My new husband and father-in-law are waiting downstairs for me to change clothes. Shortly, my new husband and I will head out on a weeklong honeymoon to begin our lives together.

My new husband.

I never thought I would say those words. My new husband. Part of me feels like a sell-out; as if I've given up on a fundamental battle of my individual rights and freedoms. The larger part of me keeps saying it - My New Husband.

How did I find him? I wonder yet again. What fate or chance brought us together?

I glance at the clock; I only have another few minutes to change or we risk being late. Alex's father is probably waiting patiently. Alex is no doubt chafing at the bit. No patience. No patience, precious little self-control, and a mouth that can only truly be stopped with a gag.

And yet, I love him. I hate admitting it because it leaves me so exposed but I do. He's a willing slave to my whims, loyal and loving, and - when I release him - an animal. When he takes me, it's overwhelming. It's as if my entire being is nothing to the storm of his passion. I can let go completely - in fact, any resistance is futile. And when he is sated and spent, I replace the collar and my mad dog becomes an obedient pup again.

I wonder for just a moment, what it would be like to live the other way. With that passion free all the time, without my will controlling it.

And then like lightening, the idea takes me. Alex has no idea where we are spending our honeymoon - no idea that my suitcase contains many things but no clothes.

I could give him this week, as a wedding gift. One week of submission. Even if I wanted it, he doesn't have it in him to be cruel. He will not push my limits as I push his. Most likely, as he would say, most likely he will simply want to have sex a lot. And perhaps make me do some publicly embarrassing things. I planned to have him chained the whole week. Maybe I should test myself and spend a week with him unleashed.

I smile to myself. Alex unleashed.

The idea has at least resolved my question about what to wear to travel in. I have a light cotton dress in pastel blue - a gift from a cousin who doesn't know me well. I kept it largely because I felt a twinge of guilt throwing it away but I have never worn it. I pull it out and am relieved to discover it fits. I find a simple pair of sandals and leave my hair up. Perhaps it is pointless symbolism, but only he gets to see my hair unbound.

Alex stands as I enter the living room. I can see his face as he searches for something appropriate to say.

"You look amazing." He finally comes out with.

"Really? Is that better or worse than 'unbelievable'?" 'Unbelievable' was how he described me in my wedding dress.

"Don't answer that one, son." his father cut in, "less you wanna fight 'bout it the next twenty years."

"Right, yeah." he reaches out, stops himself and pulls himself to a more formal pose. "You looked lovely earlier and you look lovely now."

I almost can't hide the smile. Every so often, he says something irresistible.

It doesn't take us long to go from there to the car and out to the highway. The trip to the airport is far too long so I pretend to sleep so that Alex and his father can have one last man-to-man conversation before we go.

"You sure about this, son?" His father asks suddenly in the midst of discussing the family business.

"What, crew shifts? Oh, Ame. Yeah." He laughs, "I'm totally sure."

"It ain't too late. You can get this annulled."

"Dad. I'm sure. I love her. An' she really does love me."

"I gotta ask, how in the hell can you tell?"

"I just know."

"Yor Granddady never approved uh her."

"Yeah, despite the fact that she'll go out her way ta take care uh him. An' Grandma woulda loved her."

"Well. Momma woulda admired her strength, that's sure." He hesitates. "She at least, y'know, keeping you happy, right?" I can hear the quotes around 'happy'.

Alex nearly chokes laughing. "You have no idea. Every night. Twice on Saturday."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, hell, yeah. Grandma woulda loved her strength but she ain't be to cool 'bout what we done on her furniture."

"Ok, ok, let's not share too much information, right?"

"Cool."

"I mean, I just wanna make sure, when she paintin' yo' toenails that you gettin' rewarded fo' it." he paused, "You are gettin' rewarded fo' it. Right?"

"Dad! Yeah. Ame's not uh prude she's just quiet. Still water, right? She goes deep. Real deep."

"Ok, ok."

There silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, does Mom still...?"

"You god damned right she does."

There's a beat before they both have a fit of laughter. Then Alex remembers that I'm sleeping and they quiet down. "She's had a long day."

"Why? She ain't do much. Walk down the aisle, castrate you, had one drink, one dance an' gets ta sleep to the airport."

"...Dad..."

"'Obey', boy? You promised ta love honor cherish an' obey? That's the woman's part - I don't know if you was payin' attention at any other wedding on God's green earth."

"...She an' I agreed..."

"An' what the hell kinda uh vow was that from her? 'Do you Amelia accept this promise from Alex?' 'I do.' What the hell was that?"

"...Dad..."

"She ain't promise you uh damn thing boy, not uh damn thing."

"No, Dad, she didn't. She won't. That's the deal." He chuckles, "I told her she could say anything she wanted so long it ended with 'I do'."

"That's where it start and end." He huffs. "She ain't even wear uh damn ring."

"Dad, look, I know she loves me 'cause I know why she ain't wanna get married in the first place. The fact that she showed up at all is proof enough fo' me. I know she ain't the woman you'd uh picked..."

"...damn straight..."

"...but she's the woman I love. Let me run my own god damn life. I ain't marry ma high school sweetheart..."

"...Watch yo'self boy. Don't make 'er uh widah on her weddin' day."

"...Dad, damn it just listen! I meant Lisa, ok, not you an' Mom. Jees! Get uh grip! I ain't never met anybody who made me feel right - just right - in my own skin. She treats me the way I want her ta treat me."

"I ain't raise you ta..."

"You an' Mom raised me fine. I'm real glad you my folks. I can't thank you enough. But, look, remember you told me once that the right answer and the answer everybody want ain't always the same answer?" My Father-in-law grunts. "Well, she's the right answer. I know she ain't what everybody want, but she's trying ta fit in, Dad. give her uh break, Ok? She's my wife."

There's more silence. I had no idea his Father felt that way about me. Other family members had been more vocal; George had always been very cordial, almost vacuously so.

We eventually arrive at the airport and Alex wakes me. I tell him which airline and send him off with the luggage. George moves to go with him but I touch his arm.

"He'll manage. May I speak with you?"

He watches Alex for a moment. "Of course, Honey. What's on yo' mind?"

"I just wanted to thank you."

"Fo' drivin' out here? Oh, that ain't nothin'. Glad ta see ya'll off. I just wish..."

"No, not for the ride, although, thank you for that as well. No. For," The words catch and again, I find myself irritated by the fact that I can't do these things easily. I can pitch million-dollar design proposals to complete strangers but I can't tell someone I love them. And thanks to Alex, I discovering that more and more often. I'm not sure if he should receive a good beating for that or not. "I mean for him." I say eventually.

"Him? Alex? My son, Alex? That him?"

"Yes..."

"'Him' got uh name. We got uh lotta 'him's in the family. Givin' 'em all names kinda sort it all out."

"Yes, Alex, your son. Thank you for Alex."

"Why?"

"Just...just...just, thank you."

He mulls that over for a moment. "Yor welcome. When you done with him, give him back in one piece."

I consider it a moment longer, then take a breath. "George, do you know why I married him - Alex?"

"Honestly, I can't say that I do."

"My Father's death was very sudden."

"I recall that. I'm sorry he couldn't be here."

"So am I, deeply so. Dad liked Alex. He asked me frequently when I was going to break down, give in and marry him. In one of our last conversations, he told me he was going to stop asking me that because he had decided that it was a forgone conclusion. He started to call me and leave voice mails for 'Ms. McElroy' just to tease me. One day, I realized that Dad was right. That night, by sheer chance, Alex asked me again. I couldn't refuse."

We both look away from each other. George seems to realize how difficult it can be to share. "Well, I uh, guess that uh better reason than why I married Ms. Stacy." I wait a moment and he answers the unspoken question. "Knocked her up."

"Not unheard of. And given what, thirty years and you're still together, perhaps an act of fate."

"Act uh God, Ms. Ame. You gonna have ta get ta church more often, young lady, if-n you gonna be uh proper member uh this family."

"So he's told me. Often."

"Well, now you best start listenin' to yo' husband."

Which is exactly the attitude the pushed me away from marriage in the first place. Luckily, before anything can escalate, Alex returns with our boarding passes.

"'Ey mon, what you hold up me bride fo'?" He shouts exuberantly with the most appallingly bad Jamaican accent ever heard.

"If you ever do that again, I will glue your tongue to the roof of your mouth." I snap.

"Yeah, boy, you ain't from no island." George shakes his head.

"Ima drink rum 'til it run out mah ears." he hands me back the paperwork. "Dad, thanks for everything, dude." He hugs him. It amazes me how Alex can so freely and openly connect with virtually every human being he meets. And with his family, his holds nothing back. Alex promises to take plenty of photos and bring home lots of junk and to have a great time.

When they're done, George takes my hand, "Now, Ms. Ame, you gonna have ta keep him in line more-n usual. You think you up to it?"

"I shall bear the challenge." I hold his hand and kiss his cheek. "Goodbye, Dad. We'll see you when we get back."

It's the first time I've called him that. I don't give any of us a moment to respond to that. I let him go and walk into the airport. Alex has to hustle to catch up. He knows me well enough to not ask what just happened. We wait in silence at the boarding gate. Alex is fidgety but handles it reasonably well by trying to meditate.

Alex meditating is actually laughable but the fact that he took a class - twice - was a testament to his earnestness in finding a way to calm his over-active nature. He doesn't see what I see.

A paragon of masculine beauty virtually sculpted of muscle - he is required to workout once a day to stay in the same shape as when we meet. I do as well but I haven't told him I live with the same restriction. But the barrel-chested, energetic man wrapped, coiled like a spring. Strength, power, speed, and, at my will, direction. Hurting him is sex; controlling him is foreplay.

"Perhaps drugs would help." I comment, largely just to needle him. I see his jaw working to hold back what he wants to say and I can barely resist a smile.

Eventually our flight boards. Once we are settled into our first-class seats and served our glass of champagne, I call the flight attendant. "Would you tell me when we have left the US. I don't need the exact moment, just when we're over the ocean in fine." Alex is bursting to ask me why but know he will suffer if he misbehaves in public.

After take off, I finally ask him. "Was that what you wanted?"

"What, the service?" He smiles broadly, "Yeah that was it. Was it ok for you? I mean, goin' through it?"

It was surreal. My Wedding. "Actually, it was quite pleasant." I don't complement him often, but he deserves one. "You and Peter looked quite handsome." He and Peter looked like Olympians.

"Yeah?" he's always surprised when I admit any kind of physical attraction for him. "'Cause you were utterly amazing."

"Really? And what exactly amazed you?"

"I was amazed by this intelligent, talented, stunningly beautiful woman walking down the aisle and agreeing to spend the rest of her life with me."

"Oh no, you are the one who made promises."

"Yeah, an' you accepted them." He smiles smugly. "I ain't totally stupid an' I know you. I pledged for better or worse an' all that and you said 'I do'. You just as stuck with me as I am with you."

He's right of course. In theory, by accepting his promise, I am obligated to allow him to love honor cherish and obey. I wasn't sure if he'd been aware of that this morning. Once again, I find myself please that I found a good-looking, passionate, intelligent slave.

Without warning him, I kiss him. His mouth tastes like chocolate and champagne. I'm beginning to look forward to a week as his love toy. I pull away from him, sit back and pull out a book. He's always a bit stunned when I do that, always has been even when we were in college. The flight is only four hours long but I'm hoping to finish some technical reading before we land.

I can't read. Every time an attendant walks past us, I'm waiting to hear that we've crossed the line and his gift starts. I could always simply not do it. He wouldn't know one way or another.

But I would. And I know that this is as much a gift for myself as for him. Finally, as they are passing out the headphones for whatever bad movie we are stuck watching, the woman says, "I just got word from the captain. We are officially in international waters." I thank her kindly and when she moves on, I look at him.

My New Husband. Alex. "I have a gift for you. Of a sort."

"Yeah? Actually, I got one for you too. It's in my suitcase."

"Mine is this week."

"Why? Where are we goin'?"

"A small resort on the southern end of the island. I'm sure you've never heard of it. But it had two qualities that I thought made it ideal. First, it caters to the life style."

"Oh, baby. I love you. I's afraid I'd have ta take the chains off this week."

"They are, in fact, the only things you'll be allowed to wear outside of meals - it's a nudist resort."

"Now that's uh gift. One week uh you, naked."

"Actually, no, that's not the gift." I stop I don't know how I want to say it. "I will always be your Mistress..."

"...Of course!"

"...but for this week, I will consent to be your submissive." He looks confused as he mulls that over. I take my hair down and let it fall unkempt past my shoulders.

"My submissive." he says.

"Yes, Alex." his eyes flicker when I call his name. He's so Pavlov-ian, I'll bet he also just got an erection. "For this week, you may use my body when ever and how ever you chose to."

"Just this week?" He looks doubtful.

"I am hardly sacrificing all future control simply because we got married."

"And I don't want you to. We got a good thing; I like things the way they are. You lead, I follow."

"I will still lead. But for this week, when you want me, take me."

He's on me almost before I finish the sentence, pushing me against the window. "Like this, Ame? You don't mind if I take you here like this?"

"Not the most comfortable position." I point out. Really, I'm holding my breath. He pulls back and sits down properly. "Yeah, ok. We'll see."

I can't read at all. I keep going over the same paragraph. Alex removes one earplug to ask me what's wrong.

"Frankly, I keep waiting for you to attack me."

"You can stop worrin'," He says with a laugh, "I'm not gonna attack you."

"Have I lost my appeal already?"

"No. it's just too cramp ta do anything fun on uh plane." He goes back to the movie. I put my reading away and wonder for the rest of the flight if I hadn't made a huge mistake.

We get through the airport and onto the resort shuttle fairly quickly. There is only one other couple riding with us. Alex tentatively puts his arm around me - normally he's only allowed to touch me with explicit permission. I scoot a bit closer to him.

"You really mean this, don't you?"

"Letting you have your fun this week? Yes, Alex, I do."

"Quit callin' me that. It makes me hot. Like Gomez Addams and French."

"You must spend a great deal of time 'hot' if calling your name does it."

"Not every body. Just you."

"You get hot only when I call you 'Alex', Alex?"

"Now you just doin' it on purpose." he grins, kisses my forehead and looks out the window.

I find myself at a loss. I had expected the whirlwind he usually unleashes if I allow him even limited access to my person. This disinterest is unnerving. He's not guileful. If he's not acting, it's because he's not interested.

The drive to the resort is almost two hours through lush tropical mountain forests on streets as wide as the average doorway in traffic that looks like L.A. The couple in front of us spends the time nearly conceiving their first child. Alex never does anything more outré than stroke my arm.

I absolutely do not understand. Alex ordinarily has the libido of rabbit. I even gave him underside penile piercing because it was the more common view. It's not possible that he's not aroused. If he's breathing and conscious he's either building or recovering. The man never stops. I find myself glancing repeatedly to see if I can tell if he is erect but the loose-fitting shorts give me no clue. There is no subtle way I can reach down and check.

Then I remember the chains. Through a series of hoops, they connect his collar to his nipples to his wrist cuffs and down through three groin piercings, to his ankle cuffs. He took off the ankle and wrist chains when he changed clothes but he's still wearing the rest. When they are on, they form a sort of continuous feed loop for him. If he looses his erection, his flaccid penis pulls on the chains causing pain in several of the piercings. Pain re-establishes the erection.

"Is something wrong?" I finally ask.

"Wrong? With what?"

"I give you carte blanche to behave like an animal and you don't take the opportunity. It strikes me as unusual."

"Oh." he continues to look out the window. "You ain't submissive."

"I will be. For this week."

"You ain't submissive." He repeats. "I ain't marry uh submissive woman. I ain't want uh submissive woman. Submissive men? Oh hell yeah, I love that." He smiles in memory. "Remind me ta tell you about Brandon." He frowns, "But I have never liked submissive women; they piss me off. You want me, you don't want me, I don't care but tell me. Clearly. I don't care if you rip my shirt off or if you tear out my eyes, I don't want you to ever just lie there and submit to me."

I look at his face. He's so earnest; so straightforward and open. Behind those dark brown eyes, there is nothing but love. It's frightening. No one but my Father loved me so unquestionably. I don't want to love him and yet five years of abuse could not quench it.

He shrugs and looks out the window again. "You gonna submit, I don't wanna play."

"You do not want to simply take me at will wherever, whenever and however you wish?" I would be stunned if the answer were 'no'.

"Oh of course I do. I want it so much, it's hard ta think of anything else." Which I found oddly reassuring. "But if you just gonna lie there and not join me or fight me or somethin', what's the point. I've never been interested in corpses."

"I see. Perhaps I misspoke; that was never my intention." He looks at me. "I had planed to be an active participant rather than passive article. And of course, this only applies to your sexual appetite. I have no intention of allowing your behavior to run amuck this week."

"So," He looks thoughtful, "I gotta behave as normal unless I wanna bang you. Then I can just take you an' I won't get punished?"

"Yes."

"An' you may or may not let me?"

"Ultimately, I will let you this week. I may or may not make you work hard for it."

He tilts his head, considering the idea. Then he drops his full weight against me, forcing me down on the seat and crushing his lips against mine. I twist to get free of him but he has me completely pinned.

And there is his mouth to contend with. Forcing mine open, tangling with my tongue. Exploring and pushing and inhaling parts of me as I did the same to him. He is so heavy I had little choice but to try and push him off me but I crave his mouth at least as much as he craves mine. More - he has denied me for hours. He owes me the pleasure. And just like magic, there it is - that tingle that runs through me from the very first time he touched me in Marketing 101. Every time I let him touch me, let him kiss me, let him caress me, it's like some badly written love story and my heart acts like that of a lovesick ten-year-old.

Our mouths shift and I gasp for air. He shifts his position to allow me to breath but not move. I put my hands on his chest to push him away. I can't; I can't budge him and the harder I try, the more aggressive his kiss becomes. I don't want to give in. Not here, in the van, before anyone knows that I own him. He doesn't own me. I'm not a slave to his passion. I'm not, I tell myself. I'm not.

His chest could be sculpted of marble. My fingers run down it swiftly losing this battle to him and my baser self. Then, I feel the barbells and salvation. I twist them both hard.

"Ah! Shit!" He nearly leaps off me. "Oh, man."

"'Ey, you alright back ther' mon?" The driver looks back at us, ignoring the death-defying traffic for a moment. The other couple, as well, stops cooing long enough to see what made him shout.

"Yeah," Alex pants, "All cool." When they all turn away, he leans in to me again, "Oh God, did I tell you how much I love it when you do that?" He pushes me back toward the window, not kissing, really, more nipping and licking.

I pinch one nipple through his shirt, "This gives you pleasure?" I twist it slowly. He whimpers. "What about both?" He moans.

"Please. Stop. I don't wanna cum in my shorts. You make me so crazy, Ame, You don't know." He pushes his hand between my legs, pushing up my skirt.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss. I think I already know the answer, sadly.

"Makin' you as crazy as you make me."

He forces my legs apart and I twist him nipples harder. He grimaces as his eyes fall shut. His fingers pull aside my panties and push into me.

I'm lost. I gasp. I'm so weak. My body won't respond when I tell it to resist. His mouth smothers mine again and I try to stop him. But it's no use; I've already lost control of motor functions, I'm already shaking and moaning and wishing for that release he pushes on me. He makes me feel so good. I can't bear it. He makes me helpless. He makes me useless. He makes me scream over and over. I have no control, no power, no will.

And then he stops.

Before the release, he lets me go, leaving me confused and breathless. He grins at me as he sits up straight again and licks his fingers.

I'll kill him, I think. As soon as I can sit up. I have to clinch my jaw shut in order to keep from whimpering but I sit up.

Before I can put my fingers around his neck, however, the driver stands up. "Welcome to Paradise. Thank you fo' ridin' with us. You porter here will take you bags. Have a wonderful stay."

He helps us all exit the van and I see Alex slip him a $20 despite the no tipping policy. They chat and laugh for moment or two then Alex offers me his arm and escorts me into the cool lobby of the resort.

From the front desk, none of the resort is visible. We are checked in carefully before the porter takes us and our bags to the Bridal Suite. The couple that rode with us turns green with envy but neither Alex nor I is poor and I intend to enjoy my honeymoon.

The porter, Barrington - who is also our 24/7 butler gives us a brief overview of the layout as he takes us to our room.

"Thank you Jesus." Alex mutters. I look past him to see a naked all-girl volley ball game. He has probably waited his whole life to see just that.

Our suite comes with a king-sized bedroom, living room, duel-shower bath with private hot tub, private wading pool, enclosed balcony and all-access pass. We are additionally close to both the main pool/bar and the main beach.

When Barrington finally leaves, I glare at Alex. "On your knees." He sinks, trying to repress a smile. I pick up my suitcase - the blue one, the one he was only too glad to see came with us - and sort through the toys I packed until I find the short whip. 15 lashes outside his clothing is more of a tease than anything but it's exactly what he deserves at the moment. "Now," I say putting the whip away, "strip and put your chains back on."

"Yes, ma'am." he says softly, so excited he's practically shaking. He's oozing pre-ejaculate. I take off my dress, hang it and am reaching to take off my bra when he steps out of the bathroom fully chained. "Good Lord!" He exclaims. I start to ask what the issue is until I realize that he's staring at me.

Then he crosses to me and picks me up. Kisses me. Carries me to the bed. He eats me, this time finishing the job and forcing me to scream incessantly. When he's done, he lies beside me kissing me softly. I don't want him, I don't need him. I didn't ache for him every moment he was in Arizona; I didn't watch every game pleading silently for him to come home to me.

He rolls over, on top of me, poised to enter me but not yet. "Say it." He urges. He always makes me say it before we make love, always has to hear it at this moment. I think he knows it's the only time I can say it easily.

"I love you, Alex." He enters me slowly. We both sigh as our bodies merge. His kisses are more loving now, less fire and more smolder. He keeps his movements slow, deliberate. He has learned some control, and has put it to good use.

But mine erodes, evaporates into nothing as I rise closer and closer to the orgasm he is leading me toward.

This week, I think, this week I have got to learn how to resist this. He touches me, I quiver. He kisses me, I melt. He's the slave, I'm the mistress and yet, here I am, falling under his power. He touches me - neck, breasts, clitoris - as if he reads my mind and knows just what I need to push me over the edge. Orgasm is a series of chemical reactions, I try to tell myself but I can't think beyond how good I feel when he does that to me.

When He does it. No one else. Never has anyone made me so mad with desire - cliché as it is. He was first. He was my first, although I suspect he does not realize it.

I lie there, with his arms around me until my body stops tingling. I have to shower after we have sex - I'm always a sweat-soaked mess. When I come out, he has all his chains properly attached and is fixing his hair. How did I find a man who looks like that? I wonder as I appraise both his rear and reflected front views. He is worth appraising.

He catches me staring at him and grins. It's that silly, arrogant grin of his when he's trying to be seductive. He has no idea that he's much more effective when he's serious. "You sit a lot during the day, don't you?" I ask mildly as I pick up the room key. He tries to look at his butt in the mirror and it's so cute watching him frown that I actually have to turn away or laugh. "You look fine. Let's go."

I open the door but he doesn't move. I turn back and find him staring at me. "What?"

"We goin' have uh whole lotta trouble if you gonna walk around like that for uh week." He shakes his head. "I wanna jump you again already."

"You may, if you like. But I want to at least see the property once before we leave and I suspect if we don't go now, I won't see it at all." I leave the room and head down the path to the main bar.

After a moment, he follows. I can hear his chains rattling softly. I makes me shiver. Perhaps, when we return to the room, I'll pull out his mask....

The patrons at the bar and around the property are a mix of nude and semi-nude figures of all shapes and sizes. I am thrilled to find an outdoor torture chamber in a plaza between the pool and the tennis courts. A number of people stop us to admire his piercings - which is when I realize that I forgot his leash.

"You forgot your leash." I say as we pass a rack that's not in use.

"Damn!" He says, snapping his fingers. "It's on the dresser next to your gift."

"At home?"

"No, here. Seeing you come out that shower distracted me." He looks at me again, calculating. I shiver. "You said anywhere."

"You left your leash." I say sternly and his attitude changes - although his dick gets harder, I notice. I clip his wrists to the rack. "Stay put. Try not to sunburn."

I go back to our room, giggling. On the dresser, are his leash and a box. Inside the box is one of the gaudiest pieces of jewelry I have ever seen.

I've seen it before - it was his great grandmother's. A two-inch faceted crystal cut in a ball shape hanging from a thick silver chain. The last time I saw it, it was in his sister's custody. I can't imagine why he would have thought I would want it. I pull it out of the box and find it tangled with a silver armband. Not tangled, I realize, welded. It has been converted. The chain split almost in half; on one end hangs the ball, on the other, the clasp of the original necklace. There is a note at the bottom of the box.

"An old ball and chain for my new ball and chain."

It's so sweet I could almost cry. I pull myself together and start to put the band back then my eyes see the clasp and the leash in the same glance and I get it.

The clasp is the same size as the last decorative link on his leash. I fit them together; if I'm wearing the arm band, he can not be more that five feet away. I do shed a tear or two. I give my eyes a few minutes to clear up before I put on the armband and take the leash back to where I left him.

He has a small crowd.

"Is there a problem?" I ask.

"You know, it's really not safe to leave him in the sun like that." One woman observes. "He could get heat stroke, sunburn, anything. And those chains...."

"Those chains are his design," I point out, "and none of your concern."

"Well, it's really bad for you to..."

I turn away from her and look at him. "Are you suffering?"

He shrugs - as best he can given his position - and considers the question briefly. "Only because she won't shut up. I wouldn't mind uh hat you wanna do this again." He brightens up. "Hey you found it! You like it?"

"I think it's horribly tacky. But it is an admirable attempt to modernize a family heirloom." I look at it again. "I can't imagine how you convinced Gracie to part with it."

"I got the piece she really wanted; it was an easy trade. Once I thought of it, at least."

"I'm impressed." He beams.

"Take him down!" the woman stamps her foot impatiently and the couple watching laugh.

I glance from her to them and back. "How exactly is this any of your concern?"

"You can't abuse people." She says staunchly.

I laugh outright and am pleased to hear him chuckle.

"Is she kidding?" he asks.

"Surely, you understand where you are?" I ask her.

"No." the gentleman watching says. "We didn't warn her."

"Well, that was cruel." I would never do that.

"She wanted to come with us." the other woman offers. "She said she could be just as kinky as we could."

"And yet you take exception to my treatment of my slave?"

"Oh no; I stopped to admire his hoops. I want Rod to get a Prince Albert but he won't."

"I'm telling you, Jenna, I'll pierce if you pierce." Rod says laughing.

I attach Alex's leash and release his cuffs. He stretches briefly and I have to hold my breath not to drool.

"Can I borrow him?" Jenna asks.

"Is he ok?" The other one frets. "Do you want some water?"

He glares at her and then looks at her friends, "I got an extra ball gag, you need one." I give his chest chain a yank and he flinches. "Sorry. No talking out of turn. Yes, Ma'am."

"We do, however, have an extra ball gag if you would like to borrow it." I say.

"Nah." Rod smiles, "I got a better way to gag her."

We part ways and Alex and I continue to explore the property. The beach is beautiful - the water postcard blue, the sand nearly white. They have a variety of boating activities and I let him chat with the boathouse staff for a while as I review the schedule. By the time we leave there, he has made a dozen new friends. We pass through the main plaza with the gift shop, the nightclub, half a dozen restaurants, a piano bar, and several other buildings I simply ran out of energy to view.

"I think I'm ready for a glass of wine and salad. What about you?"

"I think I'm ready for uh Red Stripe an' uh steak."

We're not dressed for the main plaza - the formal dining all requiring some attire - but several of the casual bars around the property serve food. We find one where he can order half a cow and relax watching the sunset over the ocean.

"Hey?" I realize that I was beginning to drift to sleep and look up at his voice. He leans over and kisses me. Deeply. Passionately.

"Alex." I whisper.

He picks me up and carries me back to our room.

He releases the lower half of the chains and kneels over me. "Please." He whispers.

What is wrong with me? I wonder as I take him into my mouth. He's sweaty. I hate this in the best of times. And yet I want him to cum. Not in my mouth. I have never adjusted to the taste of semen. I will swallow if forced but if it's my choice....

It's my choice tonight. Moments before he release, he starts moaning, "Oh Mistress, I'm gonna - I'm gonna - "

I let go with my lips and stroke him manually, aiming for my breasts. When he cums, he coats them liberally. Then without being asked, proceeds to clean them with his tongue. His tongue, one of his best assets when he's not talking, proceeds to inch down me. He's very attentive at times like these, very thorough. He likes the taste of sweat and enjoys licking my armpit and my feet as much as my vulva and my anus. I try not to cry out, I resist it as long as I can. But I can't, in the end, do anything but grab his hair and howl like a banshee as he refuses to stop eating me.

I wake in the morning to sunlight, blue skies and the sound of waves against the ocean. He's no where to be seen. This is good. I stretch and use the restroom. When I come out, he's waiting in front of the door.

"Mornin' Mistress." He says, kissing me hard and shoving me against the wall in the process. I dig my nails into his sides. He growls into the kiss and pushes harder, forcing my legs open with his knee.

I hate first thing in the morning. I'm barely awake and trying to prepare for my day, I don't have time to indulge in carnal pursuits - especially our kind which need time to be appreciated. Morning quickie electrocution may sound fun to him but it annoys me to no end.

I finally twist my mouth away from his. "Get off me. Not now."

"You said anytime." He nibbles my neck, which would have made me crazy if I wasn't so angry, "Now is anytime. Ima take you once an hour t'day."

"I'm not in the mood." I snap.

"Well get in the mood." He snarls. "I wanna enjoy this." His hand strokes my arm, shooting involuntary shivers through me.

He likes force. He always has. More to the point, he enjoys rape fantasies. He has a twisted image confusing pain and pleasure for both parties. He's admitted that his biggest fear is of not knowing when to stop. My biggest fear is of not knowing when to stop him; of letting him victimize me, of giving in to him, of letting him win. He wants to rape me and I want to let him.

He still has me pinned to the wall and he wedges his thigh against my crotch. "You wet, Amelia." He murmurs in the ear he's biting. I can't deny it; I came the moment he shoved me against the wall. "You want it."

"I do not." I scratch down and he cries out. If I did that properly, he's bleeding. But I could feel his erection jump; I can feel the pre-ejaculate rubbing across my stomach.

"Jesus Christ! Oh God I love it when you do that."

I try to twist away from him but I can't even budge. "Let me go," I keep my voice level. Fear will only excite him.

"No."

"I am not kidding. Let me go."

"Not 'til I'm done, woman." With one hand, he pulls a few locks of my hair forward. The other hand begins stroking my thigh. "I love your hair. You oughta wear it out more." The hand on my thigh creeps between our legs and slips inside me. I shutter; I want to hate this but I can't. "Oh, yeah, you want me, don't you?"

"No." I can resist this, I tell myself. His fingers are enough to make me whimper. "Stop."

"You like this, don't you. Pussy so wet like ta swim it."

My eyes fall shut. In a moment, I'll have no choice but to give in.

"You so tight I swear you uh virgin 'cept I fuck you already." He rubs his thumb gently across my clitoris and I cry out uncontrollably. "Say that again?" he does it again and I'm even louder. "I just can't make that out. You want me ta what, now?" He brushes it continuously until I orgasm, twisting and thrashing against the wall.

It the mist of it, he pulls his fingers out and pushes in his penis. After a few strokes, I am insensitive with bliss, "Oh God you feel good. Ima get 'nother piercing - one on the tip - for you." He kisses me hard and he hammers me harder against the wall. "Do you love me, Mistress? Oh, please say you love me, Mistress."

I can't say anything at the moment. "I-I-I..." is all I can get out.

"Say it. Say it! Say it!" His thrusts get harder with every demand, pulling my nerves like a bowstring.

He so distraught he sounds like he's crying but I can't form the words. Finally, something snaps for both of us. He pounds me like a jackhammer and in seconds, my floodgates open and I come screaming.

I pant for breath, "I love you. I love you." I drop my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. "I love you. I love you." I chant between kisses.

"Oh God." He breathes softly. He picks me up and carries me, without separating us, to the bed.

I wake up much the way I awoke the first time, sunlight and quiet but this time, he is on the floor beside me, in his mask, asleep - which he shouldn't do. I slip quietly to the bathroom and wash. I want to pay him back for that but I've never made him orgasm as hard as he's made me. When I come out of the bathroom, he's awake and in his proper position - kneeling at the foot of the bed. He's re-attached all of his chains.

I open the blue case and sort through until I find the small black paddle. He moans softly at the sound of all my pain devices shifting. I close the case and have him bend at the waist. Then I spank him until his bottom turns deep red. It will bruise before we finish breakfast. He come once and regains the erection before I finish.

I attach his leash to my armband and lead him out - bruised, chained, erect and masked - out to the main plaza. Several staff members and other guests greet me. A few ask about him. Not only do I tell them he's been very naughty, I let them smack him with the paddle. I stop at the rack near the plaza - in full view of most of the resort - and clip his leash to it. His hands and feet are free but he stays put without resistance.

I step behind him. "Alex." I whisper next to his ear. He groans. "Do you want me, Alex?"

"Yes, Mistress." comes his muffled reply.

"You should see your bottom, Alex, it looks painful." He groans again. "I suppose your lucky I didn't spank you here -" I smack the paddle against his groin and he cries out, nearly doubling over. "- that might have hurt."

I let him stand there and pant for a moment. It really is terribly hot. In his leather mask, he could suffocate easily if not watched. I unhook his leash and lead him to the shaded casual buffet. It strikes me sadly that I probably won't be dressed at any point long enough to eat in the better choices. Of course, I'll him on his leash the whole time; that will make up for it.

As I enter, a voice calls out. "Mistress?"

I look over to see Jenna waving me over to a table; Rod stands and pulls two chairs over. I go join them.

"Jenna, you don't have to call me 'Mistress'."

"Well, your slave didn't tell us your name and, frankly, it does fit."

"Thank you. It's Ame. And my slave is Alex."

"Join us, please." Rod indicates the chairs, ignoring the other woman's protests.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, don't worry about Toy; we told her that if she came with us, we'd treat her just like any other blow up doll we brought. That she'd just have to deal."

"I don't mind me," Toy pouts, "but this poor man is just being tortured."

I hear a muffled comment from behind his mask and pinch him. "No talking. Do you mind if I leave him here while I fix a plate?"

"Of course not." Jenna stands. "I'll join you."

"Rod, he may speak if spoken to directly. If you can't hear him, you may open the mask but if he swears, poke him with a fork." Toy gasps in outrage as Jenna and I walk away. "So, whose the top, or do you two swap?"

"We swap usually. This week, we're taking a break and just having fun. What about you two?"

All of a sudden, I realize that it's the first time I have to say the words. "We got married yesterday."

"Congratulations!" She looks closely at the crystal on my arm. "Is that your wedding ring, so to speak?"

"Oh." I hadn't thought of that. Alex wears an actual ring but I don't - I am not willing to wear that obvious a symbol of his ownership. "No. A gift. He said I was his ball and chain."

"Oh!" She tosses her hands up. "Men are so clever!" she laughs. "Well at least it's a beautiful piece. Is it antique?"

"I don't know actually." I fill two plates - I do have to let the dear boy eat. "It was originally his great grandmother's. He had it refit for me."

"That's so sweet." Jenna grabbed a pair the juice glasses for me as we headed back to the table. "Rod's last gift to me was a 'Hello Kittty' watch." She laughs at my expression. "It's not that bad; I collect Hello Kitty stuff."

"One would hope."

"So how long has he been enslaved?"

"Well," I think for a moment. "We started going out about four years ago. But we just did the piercings about five months ago. In truth, I don't really think they're quite healed. But he's truly a masochist, so, whatever makes him happy."

We reach the table. Rod is laughing, Toy is whining about Alex's treatment and Alex's mouth is pressed into a thin line - which means that he is very close to losing his temper. I take off the mask - his face and hair are drenched with sweat - and he breaths deeply. I hand him a napkin and he gratefully dries off. Then he downs a whole glass of water.

"Jesus! Whoa! It is hot in there! Thank you, Mistress."

"This is what I mean!" Toy practically shouts trying to get someone's attention.

Alex leans over to her, placing his hand on the table firmly in front of her. "You say one more word 'bout mah wife, Ima send you home in two parts."

"Hey, whoa!" Rod starts to get up.

"Sit down!" I snap at Alex. "Or I will rip those rings out with rusty pliers."

"Quiet, woman!" He snaps back, he's eyes never leaving Toy. "You get this straight; I do not take kindly ta the implication that mah wife is somehow mistreatin' me. So you gonna stop that right now, an' start actin' like we all friendly or you an' me gonna have us a private conversation an' you ain't gonna be doin' no whole lotta talkin'. We clear?"

We all freeze for a moment until Toy softly says, "Clear."

Then Alex pulls back from her and sits down properly. He takes a deep breath, flexes and lets it out in one huff. "Sorry 'bout that, but I couldn't take no more uh that. I ain't wanna ruin yo' mornin' like that. I apologize."

I start to put his mask back on to take him back to the room where I can bind him properly - I won't kill him but I can make his wish I had - but Jenna stops me.

"It's ok." She looks at Toy. "Isn't it?"

Toy looks shell-shocked and looks at Rod for help but he gets up muttering about a coffee refill. Toy bows her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

Alex actually manages a smile. "Hey, now, anywhere else, you might have a point but round here, abuse an' love ain't always on opposite sides. It ain't uh bad thing, carin' 'bout people, just don't go runnin' it inta the ground like that."

I look from Toy to Rod and then to Jenna. "Was that a problem?"

"A reminder." She looks at Toy and smiles darkly. "Toy was the woman he was having an affair with. I told him, that if he had a toy to play with, I wanted one too. He agreed; he just didn't know I wanted his toy."

"She look like uh plaything." Alex comments between bites.

"You are already on thin ice." I scowl. "When we get back to the room, we will have a discussion about proper behavior. And by the way, your Uncle Julius may get away with that southern-style chauvinism, but if you ever 'quiet woman' me again, you will never say another word."

"Yes, Ma'am." He whispers. His eyes are downcast but his erection is at full attention.

"And need it remind you that I've have asked you to speak properly not in that provincial red-neck drawl you seem to favor?"

"No, Ma'am."

"The only reason, that you are not going back under the mask right now and staying there until our flight back leaves is because Jenna said not to and I don't want to be rude. But if you break discipline one more time, I'll stand you in the restroom and let people use you for target practice."

His lips press together and I wait. He wants to say 'peanut butter' - which is his safe word - but he gave up that right when we got engaged. I have no intention of ever allowing anyone to soil him, but he doesn't need to know that. He swallows hard finally and says, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Now, eat your breakfast. I want to take the glass bottom boat tour." I wait until he picks up his fork and begins eating to speak again. "Jenna, you must forgive us. I simply don't maintain discipline the way I should."

Jenna pauses for only a second before she pats my hand, "Don't give it another thought." Rod wanders back over to the table. "Rod, Sweetie, let's take the glass bottom boat tour with Ame and Alex."

He shrugs, "Ok. So, Alex, where you two from?"

"Virginia. Chesapeake Bay area." He answers, very formally.

"Oh. My. God." Jenna gasps.

"I'll be damned!" Rod chuckles, "We're from Annapolis."

Alex's mood picks up immediately, "That's like an hour from our place. We got uh fishery down there. Hell, we setting up uh daily charter outta Annapolis. Starting next month."

"No kidding."

We chat in general and learn we have a few other things in common. Eventually, we move the conversation to the dock. I leave Alex unleashed so that he can talk comfortably with Rod - it's not always appropriate to have him suddenly yanked back to my side. As we settle in, I notice that Jenna unconsciously treats Toy like a pet. For the most part, the girl simply follows us around but like a dog, every so often, she sees something and is compelled to comment on it at length.

"Rod, dude, seriously," Alex finally says, exasperated, "we got uh ball gag, we ain't usin'. You can have it."

Rod laughs, "Nah, man! If I get tired of her, I shove my dick in her mouth. That keeps her pretty quiet. Watch. Toy, come here, girl." Jenna gives the girl a quick squeeze and lets her totter across the boat and kneel carefully in front of Rod. Without further instruction, she proceeds to wrap her mouth around his genitalia and blow him.

"And you don't mind this?" I ask Jenna.

"She does us both. It's very convenient. I thought I'd be jealous all the time but actually, I hardly notice her anymore. Would you like to use her?"

I pause. I don't want her to go down on me - that kind of loss of control is scary enough with Alex, I don't want it with anyone else. But I watch Rod's head fall back as Toy steadily swallows him. "Well, it is his honeymoon. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Oh, please, she says she likes it. Use her. Our gift."

I smile at her. "I'll have to find something appropriate to give you. Alex?" I call out. He jumps and shivers at the same time.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"If Rod doesn't mind, you may play."

His eyes practically bulge. "Are you…" He stops before finishing that question.

"Well, I'm not going down there, so you might as well enjoy the opportunity if it arises." I turn back to Jenna, "You asked if you could borrow him…"

"…kidding!"

"…no, really. I have a variety of rings and binding that fit his piercings…"

"…Other than those chains? I love those!..."

"…oh, yes. Those are just for daily wear. I wouldn't mind letting you play with him, if, of course, Rod wouldn't mind."

"Rod, sweetie?" she calls out.

"Yeah?" he gasps, as Toy seems to relish her task.

"Can I go play with Alex and Ame later?"

"Yeah. Yeah." He grabs the back of Toy's head and thrust into her mouth powerfully. I watch Alex bite his lip and close his eyes; he's such a little voyeur.

After a moment, Toy pulls back from Rod and the boat captain takes the opportunity to point out the coral reef we are parked over. We all take some time to admire the beauty of nature. We enjoy the scenery for a while and then, when we return to the resort, find a lovely section of beach with an unused rack.

I chain Alex eagle spread. "Those chains are handy." Jenna marvels.

"Oh, yes." I show her where all the clasps are and how tugging one length can cause pain in a number of places. Alex hisses. "You may not orgasm on our guest. If you need to, ask permission."

"Oh, God." He moans. "Today she makes me beg. " He takes a deep breath. "Yes, Ma'am."

We tease him unmercifully, twisting and pulling while his hisses and groans. I send Toy to my room to drop off the paddle and mask and bring back the blue case. Rod, after watching us for a while stands behind Alex and begins stroking his shoulders.

"Hey, Alex, you seriously get off on this stuff?"

"You have no idea, dude."

Rod reaches around him and teases his nipples, "So these things really hurt?"

"Like shit. Oh, but it feels great when somebody do that."

"Rod," Jenna's voice has a note of warning, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, honey." Rod is standing so close to him, he must be rubbing against his ass.

"You may sodomize him if you'd like." I offer casually. Both men voice their surprise. "All of his piercing are in the front so it won't disturb what I want to show Jenna." Toy arrives with my case. "Ah, good girl, thank you." I open it and find the velvet pouch containing the new rings. I hold the pouch in front of him. "These are your wedding gifts."

"You got any lube in that case?" Rod asks. Alex hangs his head and whimpers.

"No. But don't worry; he likes in dry. Don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am." His eyes roll back as Rod enters him. "Oh, fuck! Oh, Mistress, may I cum please?"

"Of course not." I say lightly. "But I'll make it easy for you this time." I pull out the first ring. It a head ring designed to fit through the top ring. "There, now you can't orgasm. That should help." I pull out the second and hand it to Jenna. "Around the base."

"Ah." She smiles appreciatively and fits the metal cock ring through the second ring.

"Oh please. He's tearin' me in two. I can't - I can't." Alex whimpers as Rod reams him slowly. "Mistress please let me cum, please."

The third ring is actually a double ring that fits through the scrotal piercing and separates his testacies. It's designed just a bit small and must pinch horribly as Jenna and I struggle to fit it on him. He begins swearing and begging for release continuously. Finally, he convulses as a dry orgasm overtakes him but he physically cannot release.

"You see, Toy?" I look at the young woman. She's stunned as she watched him. "He's not abused in the least."

"Oh, God!" Jenna moans. "It's so hot. Oh thank you, Ame." She suddenly pulls me close and kisses me. Over my own surprise, I hear Alex climax again.

"Oh shit, Jenna, please do her." Alex begs, but not for himself. "Please. Let me watch you eat her. She's got uh sweet pussy an' it's so juicy."

"Have you ever been with a woman?" Jenna asks me.

I blush. I had been hoping not to tell him this. "I thought I was lesbian for a number of years."

"Oh fuck." He moans. "Oh God. Harder Rod."

Soon, Jenna and I - and shortly Toy joins us - grapple on the sand, engaging in three-way kissing. Distantly, I can hear Rod and Alex both enthusiastically cheering us on. We don't do it for long - sand in one's personal folds is not fun - but it's long enough to insure that we will continue later. Rod and Alex are still entwined, with Rod's hand stroking a frustrated, almost sobbing Alex.

"Now watch - this may be very quick." I step up to them. "Rod, may I ask you to finish please?" He moans and picks up his pace. Alex growls in response. "Alex," I whisper in his ear, "I'm going to release the ring and you can let go any time you want, ok?"

"Oh. God. Please. Please."

"I'm sorry?"

"Ohgod! Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Mistress." He's panting and sweating. I release the first ring and he literally goes off like a geyser. His response triggers Rod's and he also bursts into orgasmic convulsions. I release Alex's second ring but I leave the third set. When Rod releases him, and Alex begins to soften, I reattach the lower chains and release his ankles.

"I love you, Amelia." He whispers. "I love you so much, I can't tell you how much I love you."

I glance at Jenna and Rod; they are engaged in a passionate kiss.

When I release his wrists, he sags against the rack. "Gimme uh minute," he pants. "Ima need uh vacation from my vacation when I get back." He nearly falls on me and kisses me deeply. "Alright," he says, pulling back for air, "I'll be right back."

"Where do you think your going?" I ask him. I had planned to go back to our room and dress - for once - for dinner.

"I got an ass fulla jizz. I'd just as soon use the john here." He kisses me softly. "Gimme some dignity; I'd kinda like not ta have it runnin' down the back uh my legs all night." I let him go.

When we do finally make it back to the room, we shower and dress for dinner with Jenna and Rod. He has plenty of clothes since he didn't know where we were going but I only have my blue dress.

He laughs as I start to put in on and takes it from me. "Mistress," he says, stealing a kiss, "This is very pretty, but it's not your style. Give it ta Willow when we get home; she 'bout the only other one who can fit it."

"And what do you propose I wear tonight."

"They got uh store; go buy somethin'."

"I have a closest full of clothes at home. I hardly need to buy something over-priced here."

"So what? Buy somethin' you like. An' anyway, we gonna need ta pick up some sunscreen there soon - you gonna start peelin' soon."

He's right. It's a wonder that I'm not already sunburned to a crisp. He, on the other hand, seems immune to anything but turning an all-over golden bronze. I don't want to waste money but this little dress isn't something I love so much I'm willing to wear it everyday for the next week.

The general store on the resort carries some of everything from personal care products to BDSM gear. I spend some time looking over their selection of leather-look and spandex clothing. I finally select four dresses that don't accent my pear-shaped figure and a pair of black heels that go with all of them. At the counter is a display of liquid latex and a sign reminding guests that Thursday is Latex Party Night. I buy a sample color set.

I wear the silver spandex to dinner. Alex has a summer-weight suit but instead of a tie, he wears his collar and leash. It's stunningly handsome - actually, I wish he could wear it that way from now on. While the five of us wait for a table, Alex lifts the back of my skirt and begins stroking my behind.

"Stop that." I hiss.

"You said anywhere."

"Try to have some class and decorum." I struggle not to twitch as his hand sends sparks through me.

"Tol' you I ain't got no class; I'm 'bout as red-neck as they come."

"I can't imagine what I see in you."

"You see uh slave you can make fold like uh lawn chair anytime you want." My eyes fall shut and I bite my lips. Sometimes he says something irresistible. "I'll let you break me an' beg you for more." His fingers slip into my slit and it's all I can do not to cry out. Alex and Rod coax Jenna, Toy and I to take a turn at karaoke. We look like fools but then so did everyone else with the mike. Alex eventually does his off-key rendition of 'One in a Million' and Rod follows it with an arguably worse version of 'My Way'. We finally leave when the piano player does and stagger our way to the dance club. We would have been fine if we hadn't walked in as they were playing some old Ricky Martin; suddenly Alex switches to aggressive mode and pulls me on to the dance floor. I try to remain cool but the truth is the boy can dance and he's set me off with it ever since the first time he samba'd his way into my arms. I knew that moment that our relationship was going to become physical - and not just me hurting him but actual, sweat-soaked sex. When we dance, I can never think past my heartbeat.

The music changes and he lets me go, slipping easily into a more modern dance. I've never been comfortable on crowded dance floors and as soon as I can I slip back to the bar. He starts to follow me but I give him a little wave and let him stay put. He knows the rules - they may touch him but he can't touch them. He smiles and finds a new dance partner surprisingly quickly.

Rod joins me at the bar. "So, when are you and I gonna play?" he asks.

Subtle. "I don't actually 'play' with other men."

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you don't fool around. Women like you collect men."

"I don't." I look at Alex, having fun letting an almost naked girl rub against him. "I'm only interested in one."

"You don't know what you're missing." He whispers in my ear.

"You don't know what you're risking." I look at him. From what Jenna's told me, they limit themselves to handcuffs and a little spanking. "Tell me, what do you think of the mask he had on this morning?"

"Kinky."

"He wears it a lot." I take a sip of my drink. "Tell me, have you ever been fully bound?" If he wants to play, it will be on my terms.

"Hey, I'll try anything once."

I put my drink down. "Where's Jenna?"

"We don't need her."

I ignore him and get Alex. He stops dancing as soon as he sees me and follows me out of the club. A moment later, Rod, Jenna and Toy appear. "Come on, ladies, we're gonna go get freaky in Alex and Ame's room."

Alex stops cold, looks at Rod then looks at me, "Mistress?"

I shrug. "Rod thinks he wants to be bound."

He looks at Rod again and exhales. "Ok."

I lead the way back to our room. "Gentlemen, kneel." Alex drops immediately and pulls Rod down with him. I give Toy Alex's mask. "Put this on him." I don't have an extra one so I take a pillow case and hand it to Jenna. "He'll be fine." I whisper to her. She grins and drops it over Rod's head even as he protests.

"Oh but I thought you wanted to play." I coo. I have one coil of rope but it should be enough. I bind his wrists and loop around his neck before I bind his ankles. He starts to protest in earnest when he realizes that he is hog-tied. "No talking." I slap the bottom of his foot with the paddle then hand it to Toy. "Do you think he deserves a good spanking?" She whacks him a few times but stops when Jenna finds my short leather whip and begins teasing him with that. I have Toy undress Alex.

Alex is shaking, listening to Rod cry out but too well trained to move. I open a case within my case and pull out my PES.

"What is that?" Jenna asks.

"This is his favorite toy." Alex moans behind me. I turn it on and touch him on the hip. He cries out in pain.

"How do you hear his safe word like that?" Jenna wants to know.

"He doesn't have one." I say and zap him again. Although his body shakes, he leaks pre-ejaculate. I lower the setting considerably and zap Rod.

"Argh! Hey! Stop! Ok, ok. You win. I'm sorry if I went too - Agh! - Seriously, that hurt - Agh! - Jenna? Jenna, make her stop. Seriously." We let Rod plead for a while then I went back to torturing Alex while Jenna untied her abused husband. They finished in time to watch Alex climax.

I turn off the equipment. "That's without actually binding him. Or acupuncture. Very effective."

Jenna looks thoughtfully at my case of toys, "What do you think, Rod?"

"I think, don't get any ideas."

"I told you, Rod, I don't play." I examine his wrists. "Rope burns. Think of them as mementos."

"Right." He looks at Alex, "Dude, your wife is nuts. You guys want to hang out or just fuck, fine, but count me out of this shit."

Jenna kisses my cheek. "Really, Ame, thank you for letting us watch, but it's a little too far for us, I think."

"It was our pleasure. I'm sorry things didn't work out."

"Don't even think about it. Hey, we're going scuba diving tomorrow, morning - 8am - come with us."

"We should be up by then." Jenna and I make plans. When they leave, I unmask Alex. He looks at me with lust then pulls me down on the floor.

"One uh these days, Ima get my hands on you while I'm masked." He kisses me savagely and practically rips my dress off. His chains rub against me making me shiver. Maybe I'll get a set for myself one day. "You don't know how that thing makes me feel. Like lust." He pushes my legs apart and struggles to undo the chains without letting me go. "Like sin. Like I couldn't want you more." He frees himself and slide into my in one smooth motion. "Oh Jesus, you make me so crazy I can't think. I just wanna hear you scream like that." It wasn't until he said it that I realize that the echo in my ears was my own voice. "You make me a demon, Mistress, can you feel me?"

He is a demon; he's the embodiment of lust, passion, desire. That's why I can't resist him. That's why he makes me want to submit to his every whim anytime he touches me. My mind races to justify my total lust for him with my otherwise independent nature even as I give in to yet another body wracking orgasm. It's ok to give in to him if what he does to me is beyond human. It's inhuman to cum so hard, you suddenly believe in God.

I am vaguely aware that all of that is nonsense to justify the fact that I am not the perfectly controlled Mistress that I wish I was; that I suffer from the same human needs and weakness that everyone else has. But Alex-the-Demon has as much appeal as Alex-the-Dog does. Maybe I'll buy him a demon mask for special occasions, I think as he wraps his arms around me and we fall asleep.

Alex's cell phone wakes us the next morning. It takes him a few minutes to find it. He checks the number and calls Peter back immediately. "Hey, what up?" I can hear the note of concern in his voice and understand why; it's unlikely that his cousin would call us casually on our honeymoon. Alex's side of the conversation is largely split between sympathy and shock. I slip into the bathroom; when I return Alex is standing in front of the window.

"Is there a problem?"

"You told Gwen." He's not asking, he's telling me.

"I have spoken to Gwen on..."

"You told Gwen 'bout me an' Peter."

"I..."

"You fuckin' told Gwen 'bout Peter helping with the damn piercings." He turns on me but instead of moving forward, he catches himself and puts his hands behind his back.

I had hoped this wouldn't come up until we were home again. "I told Gwen that you, I and Peter shared a private ceremony and that next time she should join us."

His jaw works for a moment. Then he walks past me and leaves the room. I wait half an hour then I go to breakfast and the morning scuba diving. I refuse to wander around searching for him. When Jenna asks where he is, I tell her that he's having a day to himself.

Before dinner, I casually stroll along the beach and wait near the boathouse for all the excursions to return. He is not aboard any of them. I eat alone and then begin actively searching. I finally find him in the bar, drinking and smoking. "Since when do you smoke?" I ask him.

"High school." He answers. "Peter made me quit but sometimes I just gotta have one."

"I don't like cigarettes." I state. "Put it out."

He takes a long drag and lets it out slowly. Then a second.

"I don't think you get it." He finishes the beer and signals the bartender for another. "'Fore you came along, Peter was just 'bout the one person in my life I could be honest with. I owe him everything - even you."

"I don't see what the problem is." I really don't.

"Gwen filed for divorce this mornin'. She's allegin' he's gay an' suin' him for everything he own."

Gwen always tends to overreact but I can't imagine her going quite that far. "That's a bit irrational even for her."

He slams down his beer, "Why you think Peter ain't never tell her? They been together longer than us, hell, she live with him an' me two years we ain't never said uh word. Why you think that is?" He doesn't give me a moment to answer. "'Cause she so calm an' open? 'Cause she so damn understandin' she got problems lettin' fags join the Center?"

"I have always wondered how Peter could live with someone so close-minded."

"Ain't our problem. He love her, he dealin' with it."

"I'm sorry she's taking this so hard, but I'm sure they'll..."

"She already moved out, Ame."

I sigh; I never did like Gwen and I never thought she was a good choice for Peter.

"Why?" he asks softly. "Why you have ta say uh damn thing?" I don't like explaining myself under the best of circumstances. I do not appreciate him accusing me of, well, of anything.

"I don't think I need to explain..."

"I think you need ta give me one good reason why I'm not already on my way home to annul this." I know him well enough to recognize when he's at his limit. If he were masked, this would be a 'peanut butter' moment.

I hate explaining myself. Either you trust me or you don't. He should know me. "I suppose the fact that I care deeply about Peter as well and would never do anything to deliberately hurt him is not enough." I know that won't satisfy him but he should trust me by now.

He sips his beer and doesn't answer.

"You realize that most of your family does not like me. They're polite and include me in every event I attend, of course. But it's quite clear that I am tolerated for your sake."

"Can't imagine why." He signals for another beer.

"How many is that?"

"Why the fuck you talk ta Gwen?"

"She need the information."

"She ain't need nothin' from you." He takes another swallow. "I thought you were her friend."

"No."

"What?" He looks at me.

"No. I've never like her. I have been in circumstances where it was more appropriate to be friendly but I was never actually her friend."

"You were her maid uh honor."

"Only because she has so few friends." He shrugs. "She needed the information and I determined that it was more helpful to Peter if she knew. So right after the wedding, I left her a voice mail."

"You determined."

"Yes. I make decisions. I had information. I determined what to do with it."

"And you ain't care if it destroyed Peter's life."

"This is actually the best case scenario."

He sits quietly, sipping for a moment. "Amelia." He finally says, "I love you. But I swear before God an' all creation Ima put yo' head through that wall 'less you give me one God damned good reason you told the biggest damn mouth in the county that me an' Peter sleepin' together."

"Because she was already looking for an excuse to leave him."

He puts the beer down slowly and looks at me. "Come again?"

"I am not included in most of the family conversations but I listen to a great many of them. Gwen's been unhappy for quite some time. Rachael and Joan have been helping her cope but she's only stayed because she didn't feel justified in leaving because she was simply unhappy. Peter is a model husband. Leaving him wasn't practical."

"An' you couldn't just tell Peter this 'cause...?"

"For a man who is such a clear dominant, Peter can be surprisingly weak. I would have told him, he would have discussed it with her and they would, I'm sure, have come to some rational, simple solution to continue the marriage."

He nods, sips his beer and thinks. "Ok. I'm the stupid one. Why wasn't that the right answer?"

"Because he's not in love with her either."

"How the fuck you know who he is an' ain't in love with?"

If he swears at me one more time, I'm leaving. "Watch them together for longer than ten minutes. It's pretty clear. But more telling was the wedding."

"Which one?"

"Ours, of course."

"The public one," he swallows, "or the private one?"

"The public one. Although, the fact that he suggested a private one despite Gwen's disapproval is very telling. But during the public service, I was watching him. He spent most of the service looking at the guests. I couldn't tell who he was looking at, but Gwen was in the front row and it wasn't her."

He thinks about that. I can tell by his expression that he knows I'm right. He lights another cigarette. I reach for the pack but he moves it aside. "This is gonna be hell for him."

"Yes, but..."

"Yes but you ain't had the right ta make that decision for him."

"You are making far too big a deal..."

"Big deal? Oh, you have yet ta see uh big deal! Too far, Ame, this time you done gone too far." I try to protest but he talks over me. "You can do whatever the hell you want ta me - hell, my Daddy already think you done cut 'em off me so go 'head, fuck me up the ass an' don't even say thank you. But you fuckin' with mah family now an' I ain't about ta let you do that. You best listen up, woman, Peter spent his whole life tryin' ta find uh woman love him like he deserves. I'll be damned Ima let you take that from him."

He's livid. I know I've never seen him this angry - I wonder if he's ever been this angry. Certainly not for me, not on my behalf. "I see. Well." I take off the armband and place it on the bar beside him. "Give him my regards when you see him. I guess he won you back after all."

I leave the bar and go back to the room. I turn on the hot tub and climb in. He'll be back soon enough. Eventually, he'll drink enough or get angry enough or get horny enough and he'll come in. He's very predictable in that regard.

An hour later, I get out of the tub and dry off. I wander down to the beach - it's empty except for one couple walking hand in hand. I leave them to their picture perfect moment and make my way to the boathouse. All the boats are docked, all the staff are gone. I finally make my way to the bar. He's gone. He's not in the piano lounge either.

I refuse to search the entire resort for him. I sit down in the main plaza. I can hear laughter and music from all sides. I should go back to the room, I think. He can't go twenty-four hours without me. He'll come crawling back before morning. Let him have a night out - he'll be back.

The room is empty when I get there. It would serve him right if I were actually gone when he came in. I pull out the black faux-leather dress - one he hasn't seen yet - and put my hair up in the sweep I know catches everyone's eye. I go to the nightclub expecting to find him dancing with something young and willing. Instead, I find myself pulled into the dance by an overzealous crowd. I can dance in this, even if I prefer something less invasive.

He taught me to let loose without letting go.

He'd be jealous if he found me here being pawed by every man in the room. He'd start a fight. He'd react in that obnoxious, caveman, southern gentleman chauvinist way of his. He'd push in, and knock over anyone in his way, sweep me into his arms and say something like 'you my woman.'

I get a hold of myself. I am not the type of woman who has fantasies about being rescued by a prince on a white horse. I rescue myself. I am nobody's woman except my own. The simple truth is that his not at the nightclub. I go back to the room - more than likely he's already returned there.

He hasn't. None of his clothing is missing so he hasn't been back. His mask is where I left it on the dresser. When he gets back he's goin straight into it, fully bound. I'll pull the hair out of his legs one at a time. I'll raid that beloved set of fishing lures of his and hang a lead weight on him for every hour he makes me wait for him. He is going to be in so much trouble when he get back here.

Just as soon as he gets back here.

He has to come back here.

I can be patient. I sit down and wait. I turn on the TV, flip through all the channels then turn it off - there's nothing on anyway. I find my book and try to read but I lose my place every time I look at the clock.

He didn't say 'I'll be back'. He always says 'I'll be back'. They are almost invariably his last words on his way out the door. I'll be back. I close my eyes and picture the moment he left. He didn't say anything.

He should have said, "Mistress, I know you have divine insight and all things are right with you. Beat me, whip me, make my body ache as my heart does for not being physically part of you."

"But slave," I would say, "slave, I've given you enough - I took you as husband."

"Devour me, Mistress. Here's a knife, slice me in small pieces and eat me so I can truly be one with you."

"Oh, I couldn't do that."

He takes the knife for me and butcher's himself, making a variety of steaks, soups, stir-frys, and other culinary treats for my amusement. I set his head on the table beside me as I sample his parts. "Try my ass, it's succulent."

It is. He's legs are a little tough but flavorful. His shoulders are bold but tender. His penis is sweet. I finish him off except for his head. "Was I delicious, Mistress?"

"Very, slave. Was it painful to be eaten so?"

"Every bite was sheer torment, Mistress. You made me suffer. But it's my turn and I shall eat you!"

His head leaps at me, pushing me flat and holding me there no matter how hard I struggled. He bits me a hundred times and each bit brings pleasure rather than pain. He bits my nipples and as he chews through my breasts, I seem to crest repeatedly, climaxing again before the last fades. I realize the he's inside me, moving down, biting me and taunting me. He eats me from the inside, somehow hitting my clit, my g-spot and my anus at once. I shriek. No one could stand so much pleasure - I feel as if I'm literally being torn apart.

Suddenly, he's gone. "Slave? Slave, come back here..."

"But you ate me. I'm gone." His voice is everywhere and nowhere.

"You can't go. You promised. You said..."

"I lied."

"Alex!" I scream.

I wake whispering his name. My neck aches from the awkward position I fell asleep on the couch. Moments of the dream are almost real in my memory and I can still almost feel him inside me. I can hear his voice. 'I lied.' He would never say that. He said 'til death do us part'. He has to come back.

I can't live without him.

I stretch and stand. The dim gray light of pre-dawn made the room just visible and made clear that I am still alone. But at pre-dawn, I have an idea where to find him.

He's on the dock, sitting on the railing, coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other. I want to throw myself at him and beat him senseless for leaving me - even for a night - but a Mistress doesn't behave that way, even if she can hardly hold back the tears. He looks over his shoulder, nods and looks back at the water.

"Where were you?" I ask after I've waited long enough for him to beg forgiveness.

"Out."

"How's Peter?" He doesn't answer. "She was never good for him. Even in college, I could see that. She was never as..."

"Trina." He says.

I stop short. "...what?"

"Trina." He sips his coffee. "The person he was looking at. It was Trina. He said he could keep his eyes off her. You were right 'bout that much."

"Well." I'm glad he's beginning to see this my way. I can feel myself shaking with relief but I struggle not to show it.

"One phone call." He says. "One phone call an' you made his wife walk out on him. You ain't even consider how anybody else feel." He finishes the cigarette and tosses the butt aside.

"That's crass. Go get that." I order instinctively.

"No running no jumping no swimming." He answers. "Get it yo' damn self." He swings down off the rail and walks past me.

I stand there shaking, for the first time in my life aware that someone could leave me and I'd be crushed. I want to say something, do something, make him stay but I can't. I can't. I still think telling Gwen was right. She was killing him inside, putting out the flame of a good man. I couldn't stand watching him fade. I don't know haw the rest of the family could not see it - except that they are so wrapped up in their conservative religious morals that they can't see misery right under their noses.

I won't apologize for freeing him; Peter is much better off without Gwen. Alex will see that eventually. But the real issue is that he doesn't trust me. He doesn't understand how much I deeply respect Peter and how much I care about his well being. In truth, I've come to care a great deal about the whole family. Why else would I have allowed us to settle in the middle of nowhere instead of in Alexandria where there is culture and civilization? Why would I allow them to come and go through my house at will?

Their house, I remind myself. The deed to the house is in the Davidson Fishery name. If we break up, I'll have to move, not him. And thanks to one of Julius' surprisingly iron clad pre-nuptial agreements, I'll leave with very little to show for the marriage. As will Gwen; she maybe be suing for everything but if Peter's finances are arranged as Alex's are, he owns next to nothing. She'll get more than she deserves; Peter will be generous to a fault. Alex will undoubtedly follow his lead.

It's dawn in Jamaica and I'm standing on a dock wondering how I'll financially fair when my five-day-old marriage ends. If there is any sight more pathetic, I can't imagine it.

If he doesn't trust me then it's good that we discovered it now. Before either of us is emotionally involved. I sit down on the bench and try to stop my trembling lip.

I am not emotionally involved with this. He's as disposable as any other man who has changed my life. Crying is absurd, I tell myself. A very un-mistress-like action. And publicly. I'm being a fool. He couldn't love me the way I love him. He has his whole family to love. I only have him.

I finally pull myself together before anyone happens upon me and make my way back to the room. There are signs that he's been there - his suit is hanging, his shorts are missing. His chains are on the dresser. Seeing them starts the tears again and this time I can't stop myself until I'm virtually exhausted from crying.

That's done. I tell myself. You've had a good cry, you've worked any irrational reactions out of your system, time to enjoy the rest of the trip.

I shower and sunscreen, get my book and my sunglasses and spend the rest of the day reading on the beach. Around one, I wander to a casual lunch and then find a shady spot on the main plaza to finish reading. I wind up in view of the resort staff helping many of the guest prepare for the Latex party. They have a tent set up and more than a dozen colors to choose from. I watch as they paint 'newbie's for the evening festivities.

There is no need for me to go; I don't like latex and I don't like clubs. Of course, Alex does have a jealous streak a mile wide. He's willing to share me but he has an absolute fit at the idea of someone else touching me without him. But I'm not his property and there is not reason why I shouldn't attend a party if I want to.

I let the gentlemen paint me. A black V covers my nipples and crotch with lime green stripes highlighting it. He adds lime green handprints on my butt cheeks. I have to remain nearly perfectly still for almost an hour for it to set properly but after that, I'm able to continue my afternoon. I stop by the shop and buy a light wrap - I do not want tan lines outlining this particular 'outfit'.

I go back to the room. Alex's clothes are still there. I check the safe; his passport and wallet are still there as well. I try not to take too much comfort from that. I go out on our private patio and stretch out to nap.

Again, I dream of him. Alex. My master. Top from the bottom. I hurt him because he commands it. He's the one in charge, though. He owns me. He touches me and I become so aroused, so needy, so wanton. My body tingles. It burns. I wake aching with need. I haven't masturbated since before I meet him. But I'm dying to be touched the way he touches me. To feel that sweet release. My nipples are taut and throbbing and one brief swipe with my fingertips explains the problem.

The latex has dried completely and contracted as it did so. It is literally skin tight and is putting subtle pressure everywhere. Until I take it off, I'm going to be teased by the gentle squeeze of it. When I reach between my legs, I realize that I'm virtually painted shut and once I remove it, I won't be able to re-use that section. I can just feel my clitoris inside the latex; touching it was a mistake and now I'm even more tormented rather than relieved. I resolve not to eat or drink for the rest of the evening to spare myself too much indignity.

I read some more and flip TV channels and wait until ten pm when the party is scheduled. The nightclub is packed - it appears that the entire resort has come out for this event. The lime latex is florescent and under the club lights, creates and arrow shape pointing to my crotch. I can only imagine that the handprints are exaggerating my largest figure flaw. Suddenly, I no longer care if I can't pee in this thing, I just really want a drink. An employee is walking around with a tray of florescent green liquid and when I signal him, he gives me one.

I wait one hour.

I don't even know why I'm here; I don't like loud parties. I don't like crowds. I only thought about coming in the first place because He would have whined for the rest of the trip if we missed it. I only came without him because….

….because I knew he'd be here and I could see him and maybe he'd come back.

He's not here as far as I can tell and I have no reason to waste anymore of my time standing around as if I really care if someone asks me to dance or not. I get up and move toward the door. Before I can get far, a hand catches mine. I know before I turn that it's his by the tingle that runs up my arm. He pulls me on to the dance floor for a samba.

"I don't recall saying that we could dance." It was what I said the first time we danced.

"Dance is non-negotiable." That was how he replied that night too. "You look un-fuckin'-believable."

I look away; I'm torn between reminding him about his language and crying because he's so priceless. We dance for a while. It's torture. I have no idea if, in the end, he's going to go back to the room with me or vanish like he did last night.

He never once touches me outside the dance using the personal control I often accuse him of not having. Moments like this remind me that he was in the State finals in an event that requires control. For once, I'm the one struggling to remain calm. His face seems to be intent, concentrating on something but I know the truth - behind that serious expression, he's contemplating how long it would take to get me some place private and peel off this latex. He's the most dangerous when he appears to be paying the least attention. That means he's already decided how he feels; he's now trying to decide what he will do about it.

The music moves to something reggae and Alex lets me go but I grab his hand back. For a moment I'm desperate - I can't watch him walk away again. Then I realize how foolish I look and I let him go, turning away so he doesn't see my face. He places his hands - those massive, amazingly strong, incredibly gentle hands - on my shoulders and coaxes me through the crowd and outside. There are still too many people, but the music is not as loud and it's possible to talk.

"You want somethin'?" He asks.

We're still in the public eye. I'm still the Mistress here. "No." I say simply but I find I can't look at him.

He's silent for a moment. "Right." He says finally and starts to walk away.

I turn to stop him. I don't want to call his name; I don't want him to know how easily I broke without him but I have to say something. "I'm sorry." comes out. That wasn't really what I meant to say.

But it stops him. He turns and looks at me. "Come again?"

I hesitate. I hate being weak in any way. But if he doesn't come back to me, I'm not sure I'll ever be strong again. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah?" He crosses his arms. "For what?"

"For this." I wave my hand between us. "This distance. I didn't intend to hurt Peter and I certainly didn't intend to anger you. Gwen is beneath him; he will be much happier without her. Honestly, I thought he'd be relieved if she left. I was actually anticipating that she'd be so irritating that he'd leave her. If I had any idea that she'd tell everyone, I would have chosen another method."

"So, let me get this straight - 'cause I wanna be clear - you meant to break them up, you just sorry me an' Peter got hurt in the process.

I think about that. "Essentially, yes."

"You don't think anything wrong with the fact that you think you got the right ta play with anybody life you wanna."

"I don't 'play' with anyone's life. Peter's happiness affects yours. I'm not going to stand around and watch someone I love be miserable if there is something I can do to help."

"Someone you love?"

"Yes."

"You love Peter." the look he gives me is incredulous.

"Is that impossible?" I really thought he knew me better. "I do care about people. Peter is a good person."

"Yeah. He is. I was b'ginnin' ta wonder that meant anything to you." I try not to respond to that. "I used ta think it did but now..." He shrugs.

"Well." If that wasn't enough, I'm not going to debase myself in public. "That's all, then." I turn but he grabs my upper arm. There will probably be a bruise by morning. I look at his hand and then at his face and wait for him to release me.

"Is that all you have ta say? Whole relationship hangin' by uh damn thread, all you kin say is 'sorry, bye'?" He yanks me and drags me to the nearest bench. "Bitch you had best come up with more-n that."

"Swear at me again and you really will be catching that flight back alone."

"Think I care right now?"

"I don't know." I look at him closely. "Do you?"

He stares hard at me for a few seconds before his shoulders slump. "I give. You better-n I'll ever be. I can't pretend I don't care an' you can't pretend you do." He puts his face in his hands. "Ame, I don't wanna break up with you but fo'Godsake, I can't let you tear up ma' family." He really is close to tears. "Please don't make me have ta choose."

We sit for a moment. That's the question I've never asked, I realize. "Who would you chose if I did ask?"

"Please don't ask me that." He whispers.

"You would choose them, wouldn't you?" He stays silent. He won't answer me because he doesn't want to say the words but I can see it in his face. "You would be hurt and you would be angry but you would chose them." From him, I realize, it's the right answer. "The day you choose me over them - the day you give up your personal integrity just to feed my ego - that's the day I send you away. Until then, I" my voice cracks and a tear slips, "I still need you, Alex. I'm sorry I hurt you but I did what I thought was best and I won't apologize for that."

He grabs me and holds me tightly and we cling to each other, crying like idiots. "I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm sorry." He whispers.

I pull away from him and wipe my eyes. Then wipe his. "We look like a pair of fools."

He laughs. "I might. You look gorgeous."

"You are full of it." He walks over to the outdoor bar, grabs some napkins and on his way back, I get my first full look at him.

They painted his penis and scrotum only, leaving the piercings exposed. It looks like a studded black condom.

"Wow." I say as he hands me a napkin. He actually blushes.

"Only you could embarrass me like that." He says.

"Why? Because I actually find you attractive? I do, you know. I wouldn't be here if I didn't." I glance at our environs. "Certainly not here."

"Thanks. I think you're pretty awesome too."

"My chest is too flat and my butt is too big."

"I can do more with uh big butt than uh big tit." He say, smiling wolfishly.

"Whatever you can do you're not doing it now." I start to get up but he holds me down.

"You said anytime, any place, any how." He leans over me and catches my lips.

I fight his instance and my desire and attempt to get my lips away. "We can't here. We're practically in the middle of the crowd," I pant.

"So they can watch." He kisses me again, pushing me back, down against the bench with both our legs on either side. "Can I tell you how much I missed you, Mistress?"

"Can I tell you how much I love you, Alex?" I need to say it, just this once, aloud. His kiss becomes more insistent. I grab his waist and dig my nails in to pull him closer still. He groans. "Come on," I gasp out between kisses, "Let me take my bad little boy home and spank him."

"You the one need ta be spanked." He replies. He starts to kiss me again then stops. The grin that spreads across his face is positively evil. "You do need uh good spankin'."

"I am still the Mistress, here." I say pushing back as he starts to get up. I cannot stop him physically - he's far stronger than I. I try anyway, protesting firmly the whole time. Finally, he gets me bent over his knee in the classic position and spanks my bottom with the flat of his hand. It stings and I gasp involuntarily.

The sound also rings through the plaza and catches the attention of everyone nearby. I can hear people begin to gather but when I try to stand up, Alex puts one hand on the back of my neck and quite effectively holds me there.

"Oh, yeah, she's my top usually," I hear him tell them. "But she been real bad an' seein' as how we suspended some of the rules while we here, Ima give her the spankin' her little tail deserves." He leans closer to my head, "You just lucky my Daddy ain't here - he'll be right put out he missed the chance to paddle you."

I am never relaxing the rules again, I swear to myself. He is going to pay for every time his hand connects plus ten. Part of what has me fuming, however, is the unmistakable thrill of arousal that grows with each strike. I hope fervently that he doesn't check to see if I'm enjoying this - he'll never let me live it down.

All and all, he only strikes me ten times. He spends more time caressing my rear and running his finger up and down the crack. And talking about spanking me. The whole time, his erection feels like a steel pipe pushed against my side. He lets me up and I stand quickly, wishing I had a skirt or something to cover my virtually glowing red butt.

"You know you're going to pay for that, of course." I try to regain some dignity.

"Oh, yes Ma'am." He gets that calculating look that really is his best one. "I plan on it."

We go back into the party and, somehow in that crowd, find Jenna and Rod. They are painted in mirror image pink and yellow sun and moon designs. Alex whispers something to Jenna, she whispers to Rod and Rod nods in agreement. Then she makes her way over to me. "I'm so glad you guys worked things out," she shouts over the music.

"He stayed with you?"

"He stayed in our room, yes."

I smile at her. "That's rather what I presumed. Now I guess I owe you twice. Do you still want to borrow him?"

Jenna looks at me. "Seriously? Sure. But I don't want to cause..."

"I don't know what he told you, but our issue was a family matter not sexual. I don't mind. I'm not sure what to do about Rod. I'm really just not interested."

"Then he can play with Toy and you can play with me."

"He won't mind?"

"Oh he'll mind, I just don't care." She moves back over to Rod. I watched his face as she explained to him the plan. He clearly did not like it but shrugs and nods his head.

Alex moves over to me, "What up, Mistress?"

"Jenna wants to play with you."

He grins sinfully, "Alluh us or just me an' her?"

"Rod and Toy are going to their room and Jenna's coming with us."

"So, you wanna play with Jenna. I was thinkin' I dreamed you sayin' that."

"I did not say I want to 'play' with Jenna. I said she wants to play with you."

"You said you used ta be uh lesbian."

"I did not say that, as a point of fact." I said 'thought I was' but I'm not going to point that out.

"You too smart fo' me to play word games with. Did you or did you not ever have relations - sexual relations - with other females?"

"Learning from Julius, are we?"

"He 'bout the only one can hold his own in an argument with you. But you tryin' ta side step the question."

"I don't think that's really relevant at this point."

"I think you been holdin' out on me."

"A Mistress must tell her slave everything?"

"No. Fuck who you want, so long's I'm there. I just wanna know who to imagine you with."

"I think there should be some mystery about me."

"I think I just figured out what yo' problem with Gwen is." He puts his arm around me as Jenna moves toward us.

Actually, Gwen's repressed attitude about sex was one of the first things I disliked about her.

"So, you two want to hang around here anymore are you ready to go back to your room?" she asks.

"Actually, I have to stop by your room first, Alex says.

His collar and leash. His shorts as well, but it's his collar he hands me when he kneels in front of me. "Mistress?"

I take them and fasten them around his neck. Then I kiss him deeply, feeling his lips and tongue and teeth clashing against mine.

"And my ball and chain?" I ask when I can breath again.

"In my jacket pocket, Mistress."

"Then lets go."

He smiles slightly. "Yes, Ma'am."

Jenna pauses at the door. "You know, I think I'm going to take a rain check tonight."

"Are you sure?" She had seemed so enthusiastic earlier.

She looks at us with an odd sort of smile. "Yeah. I can see when three's a crowd."

We go back to our room alone. When he sinks to his knees, hands behind his back, I realize that she's right; we need a night for ourselves before we have a guest. I latch the wrist cuffs together, then latch his ankle cuffs as well. Then, I find one last joint, and connect his wrists to his ankles.

"I'll give you a choice tonight." I say, picking up the objects in question. "Ball gag or your mask?"

"The mask, Mistress." he whispers. He is already erect.

I pull on his mask. With it on, he becomes some kind of obscene mannequin. Not my Alex but some toy that I can poke and prod until my heart's content. I start with the wax, letting a long tapered candle drip on his chest and back while he hisses. Later, I'll rip the dried wax off and he'll groan.

I leave his latex in place and attach all three cock rings and most of his chains. Then I find the camera and take pictures of him from all angles. I twist his piercings until he moans. When I realized that pre-cum is forming on the head of his latex covered penis, I take a closer look and discover a small hole. I coat my finger with semen, open the mouth of the mask and make him eat it all. With each finger full, more appears.

"One word," I tell him. "Whip or electro?"

"Whip." he barely breathes it. He loves the whip. Really, he likes anything that leaves him sore for days but he has an especial love for being bound and whipped.

I want to do this properly - and besides, I owe him for that public spanking. I unhook his ankles and wrists, attach his remaining chains and walk him, masked, to the nearest rack. It is by the pool; a large number of people are lounging nearby, or at the bar. The sounds and smells of sex surround us as I clip him, eagle spread. I crack the whip behind him first; he shivers. This particular whip has a wide, flat head. It bruises but rarely cuts him. The result is a great deal of pain but no ugly scars to mar that exquisite body.

It doesn't take long to make him whimper; sometime later, he virtually screams and I realize that he's dry cum.

He's had enough for one night, I decide. I unclasp his ankles from the rack, re-hook the ankle chains to the lowest piercing and, just to relieve him, remove the head ring and the chains running through his penile piercings. That will allow him to go flaccid. If he ever goes flaccid, I chuckle to myself. He moans as if in agony when my fingers touch him even through the latex. I unhook his arms.

I realize my mistake as he grabs me. Ordinarily, I unhook him from behind and have him fasten his own chains. Tonight, I'm being careless; I'm in front of him. He pulls me tight and tries to kiss me through the mask. Awkwardly, he lowers us down oh the ground, his hands squeezing my breasts roughly.

Although he can't say it through the mask, my mind provides his voice. You wet Amelia.

His fingers make their way down the latex guiding him directly to my still oversensitive clit. I gasp as he squeezes it sharply and I orgasm. His full weight is on me for just a moment then he lifts slightly and pulls the latex aside, pulling with it more hair than I knew I had. Only his mouth still pressed firmly over mine prevents me from actually screaming.

I don't have long to contemplate the pain. He pushes first two, then three fingers into me and works them almost savagely. His teeth are inside the mask trying to bite my lips but unable to even get a solid grip on the mask itself.

Suddenly, both his hands move frantically to my hips and he lifts me slightly and without more preparation, enters me. I cannot hide the throbbing and pulsing as another orgasm washes over me. He doesn't move but I can hear his groans inside the mask.

Finally, as I crest, he begins pumping his hips in and out like a piston. I have no resistance to this. As yet a third orgasm breaks over me, I realize that between the latex and the cock ring, he could conceivably do this all night. I open my mouth to protest but all that comes out is a gasping groan.

I suddenly have a moment of clarity. This is Alex. This is how he sees himself - as a tireless, faceless, fucking machine to be used as hard as I can use him for my own pleasure and discarded when I'm done.

We have another two days. Two more days I can allow him to take me like this and make me his bitch.

And after that, it's Alex the dog again.

But, as another orgasm crests over me, I think I know where to spend our anniversary.