THE USUAL WARNINGS:

This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind.  If you
are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or
unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this
type of material is illegal where you are, don't read
any further.

This is a fantasy.  You will have to loosen your clench
on reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in
which physical acts and human responses are not limited
to, nor necessarily based in, reality.  Some acts and
responses in this story may be physically impossible
and/or physiologically improbable.

Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this
newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful -
gorgeous, even.  Gravity has not caused breasts to
droop nor have wrinkles creased unblemished faces.  The
men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will.
In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs,
morals, or unwanted pregnancies.  Guilt is a four-
letter word.  Most important of all, neither strength
of character, courage of convictions, nor moral belief
stand a chance against any erotic stimulus.  This can
be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle
or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals.

For those of you who didn't understand the preceding
statements, GO AWAY!

This story is intended for the salacious entertainment
of consenting adults.  Do not try to do any of the
things described in this story.  You could injure
yourself or your partner, be arrested, or shot by her
father....

If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY!  This story
will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.

If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited
where you are, GO AWAY!

By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility
for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure
that results from reading this story.  If you don't, GO
AWAY!

You have been warned!

If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on
a <free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for
it.

So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy
the story!....:)

NightShade

















Sandcastles

by NightShade
Chapter 21

"AND THE WINNER IS... JANEY!"  I announced, holding up
her arm in the air like a prizefighter.  "And as your
prize, my dear, which seat would you like, front or
middle."

"Front!" she beamed.

I looked over at Sally, who was watching the victory
celebration with a sadly amused look.  I caught her eye
as she glanced at me, and in the instant before she
lowered them back down, I thought I saw fear, or maybe
hurt, in them.  It was the only time I saw her look up
in my presence for the remainder of the day.  It
disturbed me, deeply.

I spread a blanket in the shade of a stately old oak
tree and an early lunch was served.  Janey and I sat.
For some reason, Sally preferred to stand.  I didn't
force the issue and it wasn't mentioned.  We were all
ravenous after the work we had done that morning and
were still hungry when the sandwiches, chicken, chips
and fruit were gone.  Reaching into the bottomless
basket, I pulled out three huge slabs of moist
chocolate cake and a thermos of ice cold milk.  For
being health nuts, the calorie-laden cake disappeared
very quickly and without one complaint.  It was
beginning to look like it might just be a good day,
after all.  I hoped.

When we got back to the house, showers were in order.
Sally and I took one together, and, although playful,
she was still subdued.  I did my best to lighten her
mood, and I was very concerned I might have injured her
when I had taken her so forcefully in the woods.  She
insisted that she was not hurt, that she was tough
enough to take whatever I could hand out, even to the
point of offering to let me ass-fuck her again - her
words, unfortunately - right then and there in the
shower.  I passed on the offer.  I held her close to me
until we ran out of hot water.  I don't think it
helped, but I didn't know what else to do.

The next phase of the day was initiated as I delivered
another package to each of the girls containing a skin-
tight Lycra bicycle body suit.  Janey's was red,
Sally's green.  I waited for them at the door, and
whistled very appreciably at their appearance.  The
lush bodies of my girls were highlighted to perfection,
from the tight cheeks of their asses to the firm flesh
of their tits.  Even the slits of their pussies could
be seen through the material.

To their visible disappointment, I handed each of them
another pile of clothing containing a pair of nylon
shorts and a baggy shirt.  Their luscious bodies were
to be well covered on this day.  Shoes, helmet and a
fanny pack completed the ensemble.  Their freshly
cleaned and loaded pistols were in the fanny packs.

I drove about an hour to a town on the shore.  It was a
quaint village that hadn't quite been hit by the hordes
of vacationers yet.  We rented a bicycle built for
three at a local rental shop and I intended to spend a
leisurely couple of hours riding up and down the
boardwalk getting some fresh air and sunshine.  It was
a beautiful day and the sand, sun and salt air off the
ocean combined in an invigorating way.  I felt we could
ride forever.

Janey had control of the handlebars that controlled the
front wheel and so we went wherever she wanted.  We
rode by several of the ubiquitous male `hunks' that
were walking, working out or sunning themselves on the
beach.  We never stopped to meet any of them, but Janey
steered us by a couple of them several times so she
could get a real good look at them.  Or, perhaps it was
vice versa.  I noticed she didn't seem to have a
particular `taste' in body type, hair coloring or other
physical feature.  Unless visibly bulging crotches in a
tight Speedo can be considered a `taste.'  It wasn't
necessarily one of mine, anyway.

There was no rigid schedule to keep as there had been
last week, and the afternoon was simply a relaxing time
together.  The view from my position in the back seat
was outstanding.  For the beginning of the trip
traveling away from the parking lot and the car, the
ride was pretty mundane; circuitous, but mundane.
Then, on the way back to the rental shop, Janey
misjudged a pothole, and hit it pretty hard.  The
jarring force of the front wheel hitting the rough edge
of the pavement jammed the seat of the bike up into her
crotch.  It hit her with enough applied force on the
implanted vaginal and anal devices to release some of
the sexual enhancer into her system.  Sally and I found
ourselves in the helpless situation where a girl in the
throes of a totally unexpected orgasm was suddenly
steering us along a winding pathway, or attempting to,
anyway.  Janey had no hope of maintaining headway or
her balance and we tumbled in a tangle of arms, legs
and bicycle into the nearest dune.

Sally moved over to Janey, holding her tight until her
raging orgasm passed, and she lay still, breathing
deeply as if winded from a hard workout.

"Mom, what was that?  Geeze, I mean, I know what it
was.  But what the Hell just happened to me?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, I think you can thank your dear ol'
Dad for that.  Just his way of saying `I love you,' I
guess.  If you don't want it, I'll make him take it
back."  I could tell she meant it.

"Oh, no!  It was nice, ya' know, real nice.  Just,
well, a surprise, that's all."

"Mine was a surprise to me, too, Honey.  This morning.
A big surprise."

"Oh!  So that's why...in your bottom..."  Janey turned
her face to her mother's and lowered her voice to
almost a whisper.  "Do you like it in, well, back
there, Mom?"

"That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?
Let's get on back to the car, OK?"  I think that was
the first time ever that Sally had avoided answering
Janey when she asked a question about sex.  It made me
wonder just how big an error I had made that morning
when she now wouldn't answer, or couldn't answer Janey
truthfully.  I knew she liked it up the ass.  Something
was seriously wrong.

It was a rough and bumpy ride back to the bike shop.
Janey seemed to manage to hit every bump and pothole in
the path, circling around to hit the good ones a couple
of times.  The `hunks' with their bulging Speedo suits
were forgotten as she bounced her way to giggling
orgasm after orgasm riding a bike in broad daylight.
Both women were riding high on the sexual rushes they
were having, leaving me to do most to peddling, and, as
the route was quite circuitous, it took a lot more time
to get back than it normally would have.  But we made
it.

Janey drove back to the house, again doing a good job.
She and I had been out several times during the week to
give her additional practice driving.  She drove
through the heavy downtown traffic with assurance,
always leaving good safety margins between her and the
cars in front.

We arrived home just as a large van pulled away.  The
driver gave me a cheerful wave as she drove by.
Apparently everything had gone according to plan and
the arrangements for the evening were in place.  I
smiled innocently at Janey's questioning look and she
got an excited smile on her face, anticipating another
surprise for the evening.  I turned to watch Sally
reading the logo on the side of the van and shake her
head knowingly.  She'd recognized the driver and the
van.  There was a little grin tugging at the corners of
her mouth, but the sadness in her eyes was still there.

At the door, I stepped between them and held my hands
lightly over their eyes.  "Eyes closed please, ladies,
until I say to open them."

They dutifully closed them and made the obligatory
attempts to peek to see what was going on.  I led them
sightless, or nearly so, to a room on the second floor
in the back of the house.  It was a room that we seldom
used.

"OK, you can open your eyes."  They looked around.
There were pillows scattered on the floor arranged
around a large Persian rug.  The walls were covered
with draperies of sheer material in pastel colors and
the windows were covered with thick tapestries.  It
really did look like something from Arabian Nights, and
I was smugly pleased with the results.

"I wondered what Cece was doing here," Sally said.  "I
didn't remember her calling to say she was coming
over."

"You know Cecilia Washington?" I asked carefully.  More
of Sally's undisclosed past was coming out, but this
was just too coincidental that she would know the new
wife of my best friend.

"Sure!  She was my roommate in college for the year and
a half I was there.  Why?"

Oh, Shit!  "Oh, nothing.  It's just that, well, Mac and
I are good friends, too.  I just wondered how come it
never came up before."

Sally didn't answer, but had what I refer to as her
`Mona Lisa' smile on her face; totally unreadable, but
promising depths of intrigue and mystery that would
drown any man who ventured in unawares.  I let it drop.

Mac's new wife, Cecilia, ran a catering service that
specialized in arranging quality theme parties and
dinners.  I had never met her and, when I had
approached her through Mac about this project, she had
accepted the challenge immediately, even on short
notice for such a small group.  Now I knew why.  I
wondered just how much of a surprise this really was
for Sally.  This Arabian Night style theme had been a
new one for Cece's business, but she had attacked it
with enthusiasm.  I could tell Sally and Janey were
impressed, as was I.

In the corner of the room was a tent flap that covered
the door to an adjoining room.  I urged them through.

"Your attire for the evening is in the other room.  I
am not allowed to go in there, as that room is reserved
for women only.  And eunuchs, one of which I will
refrain from becoming for the time being."

They laughed.  Thank goodness.

"We are entertaining special guests this evening.  You
may not leave that room until our guests arrive.  I
expect you both to be on your best behavior, and to
follow the example of one of the guests who will be
here to help you and to explain your duties for this
evening."

They looked intrigued, but confused.  I simply put my
hands together in front of me, bowed, and said, "Go
with God," in my best Yul Brenner impression.

I heard their squeals of excitement as they explored
the room next door and found their costumes for the
evening.  Satisfied that they were happy, I went to
check on the food.  I heard the shower in their room
start up.  I had just enough time to clean up myself
before Amud and his wife arrived.

At seven o'clock sharp the doorbell rang.  When I
opened it, I saw Amud in a very impressive - and
expensive - Western style business suit and a
diminutive figure standing quietly behind him covered
in cloth from head to toe.  Without a word to them, I
bowed and swept my hand back to usher them into the
house.  Still not speaking, I turned and led the way to
the room where Sally and Janey waited.  I pointed,
showing Amud where to send his wife.  He spoke briefly
with her and she entered the room.

I then led him to the back room with the rug and
pillows and spoke to him for the first time.  "Amud, my
friend, welcome to my tent.  Come in, rest and wash the
sand from your feet."  I spoke to him in his own
tongue, giving him a traditional greeting.  In my
research, I had learned I had two choices of greeting
guests to my home, depending on my familiarity with the
guest.  One greeting used the word `sand,' the other
the word `camel shit.'  Since this was his first visit,
I figured I should go easy on the familiarity.

Amud smiled broadly, and gave the traditional reply,
which, loosely translated means, `If there's water left
after my camels drink, I'll wash my feet.'  He
respected the level of familiarity I had set and did
not add the ending, `Then my wives can drink what's
left.'  He entered my `tent' and sat in the place of
honor.

"Would you like a drink, Amud?" thinking he would
prefer tea or coffee or water.  Or a soft drink,
perhaps.

"Scotch, neat.  Thank you."

I looked at him perplexed.  All the preparations we had
discussed had stipulated that no alcohol and that
certain animals and animal by-products were not to be
used in the preparation of the meal.  Now he asked for
Scotch?  I couldn't figure it out, so I asked him if he
would mind explaining.

"Oh, yes.  In our beliefs and in our practices, we must
be pure.  But the religious leaders recognize that for
certain cultural and business situations with non-
believers, we must be allowed some latitude in these
restrictions.  For those times when we knowingly
consume forbidden food or drink, we can pay a penance
and be purified.  But if we consume them unknowingly,
we will die impure."

I didn't follow his logic, exactly, if one can call any
religion logical.  It sounded like a religious
moneymaking scam if I ever heard one.  But, a man must
follow his beliefs or else be a hypocrite.  Better an
earnest fool than a hypocrite.  I got him a Scotch, and
had one myself.

We discussed a broad range of topics, from his business
and mine to the novel - to him, anyway - customs of
Americans that he found somewhat perplexing.  I learned
that he was university-educated at Oxford, but that his
love of hides and skins, as well as his talent for
working with them, had led him to open the tack shop.
His amusement at Americans' repressed fascination with
the relationship between leather and sex was surpassed
only by the amusement he found at the amount of money
they would pay for common everyday leather items; with
slight modifications, of course.

During the course of our conversation, we were served a
variety of foods, some traditional, some not.  Three
lovely ladies brought out the food on silver trays.
All the ladies were veiled.  The only skin visible was
around their eyes, hands and their bare feet, yet they
never seemed so seductive.  The veils and gauze-like
material that clothed them hinted more than it showed.
Dark shadows on the bodices gave a promise of breasts
and nipples, but the loose fitting material resisted
all attempts to ascertain shapes and sizes.  Even
though I was familiar with two of the three serving
wenches, the diaphanous covering clouded their familiar
lines, adding a sense of the unknown or unexpected to
the evening.

It was on Sally's second time as a server that Amud
began to watch her with intent interest.  I noticed he
continued to watch her every time she served, but he
didn't speak to me about it, although he seemed on the
verge of saying something each time she left the room.

At the end of the serving time, music began to play.
Amud settled back on his pillow, a cup of thick sweet
coffee in his hands.  With a `ting-ting,' the curtains
parted and a willowy figure entered our enclosure.
Amud's wife danced to the center of the room and did a
fascinating traditional dance that promised everything
and revealed nothing.  It ended with her bowing before
Amud as if in supplication.  He looked puzzled.

"My apologies, Mr. Sampson, my rude wife wishes to
interrupt our peace."

"Please, Amud.  No apologies necessary.  Please go
ahead."

There followed a quick conversation between them,
ending with Amud lifting her hand, turning it over and
kissing her palm.  I thought I saw his wife blush at
this intimate gesture in a stranger's house.  Amud
continued to look thoughtful as the dancer gracefully
rose and glided from the room.

He produced from an inner pocket a cigar case - another
forbidden item - and offered me a fine Cuban cigar.

"These Cubans are not only forbidden to me, they are
forbidden to you.  Mine is religious, yours is foolish.
As they are illegal in this country, shall we burn the
evidence?"

"Yes, we probably should," I responded with mock
seriousness.  "But slowly, no?"

As we were enjoying the rare treat, he seemed like he
wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin.

"Amud, you look troubled.  Is there something you wish
to say to me?"

"Mr. Sampson... Lawrence...  My friend...  It is hard
for me to speak to you in your house of these things,
but it is harder to see these things and not speak of
them to friends.  Please do not take offense at what I
say.  It is not my wish to bring criticism into your
tent."

I nodded, and indicated for him to continue.  I hadn't
the foggiest idea what he was talking about.

"My beloved and I have sensed you have begun to
practice those things we spoke of last week; those
things between men and women and their places in the
tent; those things which concern the heart and soul of
the woman, and the pride of the man.  But what I sense
is that the acts you committed have disturbed the peace
in your tent.  You have acted rashly, as a stupid man,
one with no sense of his power or his place.  A
powerful man is foolish to use his might on the weak.
No good can come of it.  I do not know what you have
done, Lawrence.  It does not matter.  I also cannot
tell you how to fix it.  But I can tell you that you
must repair the breach with your love, the mother of
the Fresh one, or peace will never return to this tent.
The Happy one, although calm on the outside, is no
longer filled with the joy you bring to her.  In your
harshness, you have taken from her, and not given.  She
now fears for the joy and peace in the tent.  That is
not her position, not her task.  That is the task of
the master.

"Lawrence, my friend, in some way I feel responsible.
I told you of a wonderful place but not the path to
follow to get there.  If you had taken no steps along
that path, you would have nothing to undo.  But having
taken a step, even a small one, along this path, you
must now continue.  But to lead your beloved down that
path, one must be familiar with the path himself and
know the destination.  You must experience the path
yourself, first, my friend.  Otherwise you will become
a cruel master and your time in this tent will be short
and painful."

With that ominous prediction, he stood, clapped his
hands and left.  His wife followed him obediently out
of the room, leaving me sitting alone in the large
room.

The silence was deafening.

Chapter 22

I heard the front door close behind them and their limo
pull away.  I was still sitting there when Janey and
Sally came in to say `Good night.'  I sat there all
through the night and into the next day.

Sally brought me breakfast, set the tray down, and left
in silence.  She picked it up later, the food
untouched.  She looked at me strangely, but didn't say
a word.  Lunch was the same way.  Janey brought me
dinner.  She force-fed me a bite or two, but that was
all I could eat.  I felt their concern for me, but it
was as if I was hovering above my body, watching a dull
soap opera.

I had really screwed up.  Big time.  I had kind of
figured out what it was, but I didn't have a clue why.
I knew the relationship between Sally and me was
evolving, changing and that there were going to be
strains and stresses as we re-defined our respective
roles within the new paradigm.  Maybe it was going a
bit faster than we were both willing to accept.  I knew
I had been unprepared for the responsibilities of my
role, which I still didn't have a label for.  I think
that's what Amud had been talking about.  I wasn't
prepared.  I hadn't been down `the path', as he called
it.

I spent a long time agonizing over what to do.  The
ball was definitely in my court.  On the one hand,
Sally had made it clear that she could accept it if I
could not bring myself to put her in bondage, and not
to be her `Master.'  But could I live with knowing that
the woman I loved was being refused the thing that
totally fulfilled her?  I had seen, felt and
experienced the explosive climax she'd had when I had
tied her hands with the belt of her robe that one time.
I had seen the basement and the evidence of her need
for this.

The question was, how could I do something to her -
safely - that I had never experienced?  I had
absolutely no desire to experience it!  How would I
know the limits?  In fact, there was a gripping terror
in me when I thought about experiencing bondage myself.
Even worse was the thought of experiencing pain.  I
hate pain.  So I brooded, trying to find a way out of
the mess I had gotten myself, and us, into.

By late Wednesday night I came to a decision.  Right or
wrong, it was what I was going to do.  At least it was
doing something.  I never was one to let life make my
decisions for me.  If something was going to go wrong,
I wanted to be the one to screw it up.  Go out with a
bang, and the bigger the better.

I went into the bedroom I shared with Sally.  She was
still up.  She watched in silence as I packed an
overnight bag.

"I've missed you," was all she said.

I gently kissed her forehead, wiped the tears from her
cheeks.

"I know.  Me, too."

I hesitated, almost changing my mind.  She was so
beautiful and alluring.  My body wanted to slip into
the bed beside her and make gentle love to her.  But my
mind could not ignore the fact that there were some
issues that we, no, that I had to resolve.  I forced
myself to keep packing.

"Look, I have to do something, but I'll be back
tomorrow afternoon.  We'll talk then - if you want to.
I promise."  I looked at her sitting there.  "I love
you.  I want you to know that."

"I know.  I love you, too.  We'll talk tomorrow.  I'll
be waiting."

I left and drove to a motel near the Rosen Clinic.
Thursday I underwent Dr. Wang's procedure on my wang
and drove home.  It really was painless, although I
felt as if something was different.

During the hour-long surgical procedure tiny emitters
were implanted in and around my penis and groin.  A
couple more were slipped just under my scalp at pre-
determined locations over the parts of the brain that
were pleasure centers.  The end result was that by
merely thinking about something erotic, I could bring
my prick to an erection.  It was all done with such
small amounts of electricity that the devices were able
to use from the bio-electrical discharges inside my
body.  It was a neat, self-sustaining system.

One of the more surprising features of the procedure
was that I could control when sperm were included in my
ejaculate; a kind of variable vasectomy.  That was one
less worry where Janey was concerned.  I was still
undecided about actually fucking her, but if I did, I
sure as hell didn't want a teenage pregnancy to
completely ruin her life.

It took about three hours for them to go through all
the features and for me to practice them.  When I was
satisfied that I could control myself, I left them with
my sincere thanks and the news that Dr. Wang's
paperwork was already being processed.  He could expect
an answer within seven working days.  I had sent his
and his daughter's papers to Judge Hawthorne's office
last week for processing.  Dr. Wang looked at me in
disbelief, then to Dr. Rosen.  She simply beamed at him
and nodded in confirmation.  He was hugging his
daughter and they were weeping for joy when I left.

Sally was waiting for me when I got home.  She met me
at the door, but instead of greeting me with a kiss,
she knelt before me as a servant.  My heart hurt at her
subservience.  Not that she gave it, but that I wasn't
worthy of receiving it from her.

That point was at the center of the issue was between
us.  She loved me, I loved her.  That was not in
question.  She had submitted to me.  She needed to be
totally committed.  She needed me to be totally
committed, as well.  We both knew I wasn't, and thus
there was still an element of fear in her submission.
She was not afraid that I would intentionally harm her.
She knew that if I ever did harm her physically, I
would curl up and die of shame and guilt.  What she
feared was that I would hurt her unintentionally, and
not just physically.  That was because in terms of what
we were entering into, I was just plain stupid and
ignorant.  I had no idea of her limits.  I didn't know
the path, as Amud called it, or where it went or why.

I was determined to change that.  I had to take away
her fear - and my own terror, as well.  To do that, I
had to `experience the path' myself, as Amud had said.
It had taken me a long time to figure out what he
meant.  I may be slow, but I get there eventually.  It
took even longer to admit to myself that I could do
what he meant.  But I think I had always known what I
would have to do and that, eventually, I would do it.
My own fears held me back, almost to the point of
losing Sally.  But it was what I had to do, terror or
no.

I knelt down beside Sally right there in the hallway by
the front door.  I took her hand and turned it palm up.
I kissed it lovingly, knowing it would soon be causing
me much pain.  Then I placed the key to the dungeon in
her hand.  She closed her fist around it slowly.  I
think she thought I was rejecting that side of her,
that I was closing that door.

Without a word to her, I put my wrists together in
front me and presented them to her as if for binding.
I bowed all the way down in front of her, my head to
the ground.  I stayed that way for a long time.  I
intended to stay that way until she released me.

I heard her gasp as she realized what I was doing.  To
her credit, she did not question if I was crazy.  I
would have had to say that I probably was at that exact
moment.  I heard her get up and leave, going down to
the dungeon.  After a time, she returned.

"I have to ask.  Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes."  I could barely talk for fear.

"Do you want a safeword?"

She had told me all about safewords, those escape
clauses for submissives who weren't really sure of
their Master or Mistress.  Sally had never asked for
one before she subjected herself to me, even with her
fears.  She'd had one with Gary, but he never honored
it.

"No.  You'll know."

"You realize this may take some time."  She bent and
slipped a hood over my head.  The only openings were
for my nostrils and a zipper over my mouth.  I was
blind and deaf when wearing the hood.  She laced it
tightly behind my head, pulling the thick leather
smooth and tight around my head.  I heard a bit of
static, then a "click" and her voice, tinny from the
small speakers, was in my ears.

"Stand and strip."

I struggled to my feet, slightly disoriented by the
hood.  Pins and needles shot though my legs as the
blood flow was re-established.  I had been on my knees
a long time.  I had not groveled that much lately and
wasn't used to the position.  I took off my clothes and
dropped them on the floor.  I stood before her naked
when I finished.  I didn't know what to do with my
hands and they kind of flopped around, very much like
the limpness I was experiencing in another part of my
body.

"What am I supposed to do, pick up after you?  Fold
them neatly!"  I felt a sudden horrendous pain in my
left buttock emphasized this last command.  It was my
first taste of what was to come and it was biting and
bitter.  I almost shit, but I was afraid I would have
had to clean that up, too.

I jumped and hopped around trying to avoid any more
blows.  The zippered hood muffled the yelp I let out,
but it was still loud in my ears.  When the pain
subsided, I bent to pick up my clothes.  This was no
easy task, as I had moved when I jumped around.  My
clothes were no longer in my immediate vicinity.  I had
to get down on my hands and knees and do a grid search
of the hallway before I found the last sock.  I suspect
she was moving some of the clothes around, keeping them
from me, as I would swear I had twice searched the area
where I finally found the last piece hiding.
Regardless, I retrieved them all and was able to place
a neatly folded bundle before her feet.  Or where I
imagined her feet were.

"Stand."

I stood.

I felt a strap being placed around my penis, down by
the base.  It looped once between my penis and scrotum,
then again behind my sac.  A last strap bisected my sac
in two, one nut on each side.  Then the whole thing was
tightened until I thought my balls would burst.  I felt
a click of metal on metal and then a firm tug on my
balls, urging me forward.  I nearly fell over.

"If you want to keep them attached, you had better
learn to follow when I tug on your leash."  A harder
tug followed, and so did I, quickly, if a bit
awkwardly.

We descended into the basement.  I assumed we were
headed for the dungeon.  I was correct.

I felt my wrists wrapped tightly with what felt like
stiff leather cuffs.  Then they were lifted over my
head.  I strained, standing on my toes to keep in touch
with the ground for as long as possible before I lost
even that touch.  I felt her push against one side of
me and my equilibrium went haywire.  I was spinning
with no points of reference.  Vertigo set in quickly
and I was totally disoriented.  I vomited in the helmet
and the fluid ran down between the mask and my face,
dripping down my chest.  The smell was awful.

An icy cold torrent of water beat against my body.  She
must have had a fire hose installed down there, there
was so much water.  She focused on my head and chest,
rinsing away the vomit.  I was torn between being
thankful for the smell being gone and the terror of
drowning in the hood.  I learned how to drink through
my nose, something I would not suggest to anyone.

Then nothing happened.  I mean it.  She must have left
the room.  I just hung there by my wrists.  I didn't
know if I was still spinning or not.  I also had no
recollection of time, other than my heartbeat.  Under
normal circumstances, I could estimate time by my
regular resting pulse.  I had always maintained a
resting pulse of about 60.  But these were not normal
circumstances and my heart rate seemed faster than
normal.  I had no way of telling how long I hung there.

More time must have passed than I thought.  The water I
had ingested had worked its way through my system and
was now ready to exit.  I had to piss, but I couldn't.
Call it pride, stubbornness or whatever I didn't want
to urinate when I couldn't see where it was going.  I
don't think psychologists have ever figured out that
peculiar fascination a man has with watching himself
pee.  It stays with a man from the time he is a little
boy.  Maybe it has to do with being able to write his
name in the snow.  I don't know.  I just know I didn't
want to let go while I was blinded.  I focused on
blocking out the urgent messages I was receiving from
my bladder.

The first savage pain hit just below the back of my
neck.  It was a thin fiery strip of heat that stretched
from one shoulder to the other.  One end of the painful
strip of fire curled into my armpit, as my arms were
held over my head.  The following blows descended
slowly down my back, each one slightly lower than the
previous one.  I fought the pain, resisted giving in to
it.  I hated the pain, the whip.  I began screaming
when the first blows landed on the backs of my thighs.
The pains continued.  Not even the soles of my feet
were spared that painful lash.

I had been hanging for so long that I didn't even try
to move my feet or kick to avoid the lash.  Moving
caused more pain in my shoulders, arms and wrists than
the whipping did so I just hung there, screaming.

The pain on the front parts of my feet, across the tops
of my toes alerted me to the beginning of the next
round.  My screams raised several decibels in volume
and, as the lash curled around my tender testicles,
rose several octaves in sheer panic.  No part of me was
spared the lash.  I was sobbing uncontrollably when it
stopped, the pain in my groin agonizing, excruciating.

At some point I had voided, soiling myself, the yellow
fluid and stinky solids streaming down my legs and
pooling below me.  I could smell the acrid human smell
of urine and shit even through the hood.  It smelled
like fear.

I was not broken or submissive.  I was mad.  My anger
was palpable.  I roared into the hood; into the
stillness of the dungeon; to myself.  Sally had left me
alone again, hanging over my own pile of shit.

I don't know when I awoke.  I didn't remember falling
asleep.  I couldn't get my bearings at first, didn't
remember where I was.  The sudden burst of fresh pain
broke through the haze of sleep shrouding my brain.
Pain came in multiple points, many stripes at once.  I
could feel the thuds of the knots on the ends of the
straps solidly landing on my back and sides, sometimes
wrapping clear around and impacting my chest.  I
screamed.  And I voided myself again.  I fought the
pain and humiliation.  The agony grew in my back and in
my spirit as the blows continued relentlessly.

I must have passed out when the lashes curled around my
hip and the hard knots at the ends of the braided
strands hit my unprotected, harnessed cock.  I remember
having a clear premonition of disaster as I felt the
pain in one ass cheek but not the other and then I
remember a split second when I thought that I would
die, hanging there in a basement.  Then - then...there
was nothing.

When I came to, I was lying on my back on a hard
surface.  My hands were stretched out straight over my
head, which was still hooded.  My ankles were now
cuffed and my legs were pulled straight out and held
slightly apart.  Something narrow and hard that felt
like a two-by-four on edge was jammed under my butt,
raising my pelvis above the plane of my body.  That
made my groin, and my bound cock and balls, the high
point.

What was confusing was that what I was feeling at that
moment were the soothing hands of my lover moving over
my aching body, tracing the angry red lines that I
could only imagine were criss-crossing my skin.  I felt
moisture then coolness as the water evaporated.  I
responded to the soft caresses and my erection became
the prominent point, lofting high and proud.  What a
foolish, vain and predictable organ.  The constraining
straps around the base of my cock tightened due to the
expanding size as a result of the influx of blood into
that area.  The constriction increased to the point
where the outflow was constrained more than the inflow.
I would now have a permanent hard-on until the straps
were loosened.

"Cum for me.  Now!"  My lover's voice was with me in my
darkness, a tinny voice in my ears.

I tried.  Even with Dr. Wang's improvements, I couldn't
do it.  I was still fighting the bondage.  I couldn't
find the path.

I felt the surface I was lying on begin vibrate.  The
tension in my arms and legs increased.  I was slowly
being stretched out.  She had me on a rack.  Never
again would I underestimate the effectiveness of
medieval torture techniques.  An added twist of a lever
or wheel elevated my pelvis area more, bowing me
completely off the table with only a single contact
point under my hips.  I felt as if I would break if I
were forced to bend backwards any more.

I was whipped on the frontal parts of by body from the
tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers.  Special
attention was paid to my hands and arms, as they had
been too high for Sally to reach when I was hanging by
my wrists.  Even my shielded face received several
terrifying blows.  Then I was left alone again.

I was beginning to hate being alone.  Even to the point
of looking forward to the pain, strange as that sounds.
At least then I wasn't alone.  I began reaching out to
my tormenter in my mind.  I knew, from my time with the
State Department, that this was a classic response of
kidnap and torture victims.  What they hadn't told us
was how helpless the victims were to resist that
response.  I had no choice but to try to curry the
favor of my tormentor.  The depth of my visceral
response frightened me.  I had to do it.

The tender touching was repeated, but this time I was
given water to drink through a straw before it started.
It was the first fluids I had had since I had been
hosed off.  The zipper over my mouth was opened, and a
drop of water placed on my parched lips.  I felt the
straw and I sucked in as much as I could, as fast as I
could.  The first rush of cool water hit my stomach and
I vomited.  The acid taste of bile stayed with me, even
after I was able to take in more water.

She hosed me off again, and then commanded me to cum
again.  When I couldn't, Sally moved away from me.  The
pain when she whipped me on my wet skin was even worse
than before.  I was unconscious when she stopped, but I
had lasted a long time before I lost my senses.  Longer
than either of us expected me to, I would guess.  I
could feel her frustrations at my resistance to the
pain, but I didn't know what to do to, how to help her.

It went like this without an apparent end.  I was hung,
tied, bent, whipped, stretched and then left alone.
Then again.  And then again.  The pain and the
loneliness eventually became secondary to the terror
and the frustration I experienced when, at the
initiation of each session, I heard that same whispered
"Cum for me!"  When I failed to please my Mistress, I
was beaten senseless.  The command was given again at
the completion of each session, if I was still
conscious.

When I was left alone, I continued the futile fight
against the pain and the bondage.  I could not, would
not give into it.  It was blackness and void.  Terror.
Unknown.  I sensed in it a danger of deathly
proportions.  My very being, my spirit, the essence of
who I was in my head, would not give itself up to that
perceived evil that I sensed lurking in that darkness.
I would not break.  I could not.  I was more afraid of
that unknown than the pain.

I was delirious, too.  I knew it.  I was getting
desperate, as well.  In the back of my mind, I knew
that if this did not work, I could and probably would
lose the most precious thing I had ever known.  I would
lose the respect of Sally, if not Sally herself.  In
desperation, I did the only thing I could think of.

I surrendered not to the darkness, but to the Will of
my Mistress.  It was that simple.  Why I hadn't thought
of it before is an indication of my ignorance, I guess.
Or how paralyzed I was by terror.  Or how much of a
stubborn, prideful son-of-a-bitch I am.  I couldn't
give in to the darkness, but my Mistress was light.
She was a guide into the unknown terror.  With the last
desperate thoughts of my sane mind, I surrendered
myself to my Mistress.

I don't remember what happened after that, but Sally
said she knew something was different as soon as she
woke up from her catnap.  I was resting peacefully in
one of the more uncomfortable positions she had bound
me into.  I had stopped screaming, stopped fighting.
When she gave me the command to ejaculate, I did.  I
don't remember.  I was literally out of my mind.

I later learned that Sally had never me alone in the
dungeon.  She or Janey were always there.  I had
thought I had felt a different set of hands soothing
me, but I wasn't sure.  Only one set used the whips and
caused me pain.  But there had been two sets of hands
that soothed me.

I remember little after my surrender.  I was just
there, floating.  I know there was more bondage, more
pain.  But it was what my lover, my Mistress wanted,
and I only hoped it gave her joy.  That she wanted it
was the only reason I needed to accept that she was
giving it to me.  I was hers totally.  That time of
total abdication of my will to Hers was the most
peaceful time of my life that I can ever remember.

The last thing that happened, my final test, I guess, I
do remember.  Very well.  My hands were bound tightly
behind my back, my ankles and calves tied to my thighs
with my knees forced wide apart.  I was forced to kneel
on the cold cement of the dungeon floor, which was
still damp from my last `bath'.  I was tightly hooded,
as I had been throughout the ordeal.  I could not see
or hear, but I could feel the footstep vibrations of
other people walking around me.  I cringed inside,
beginning to fight the fear.  But then I reached out
and found that Mistress was there.  I don't know how,
but I could feel her, and I relaxed.  What she wanted,
I wanted.

The zipper over my mouth was opened and I was offered a
drink.  Then I felt something I had hoped to live my
entire life without feeling.  The warm solid flesh of a
real cock was introduced to my mouth.  It was a large
one with a broad circumcised head.  I froze.

A soft gentle voice came to my ears, my Mistress.  "Cum
for me, my love.  Cum."

I blew my wad across the room and sucked the cock into
my mouth.  All for my Mistress, because She willed it.
I was bobbing and sucking as best I could, trying to do
all the things that I thought would feel good to me.
For some reason, it was important to me that I do a
good job at this vile task, the very best I could.  It
was as if the prestige of my Mistress was at stake.  My
performance would be her grade.  I did my best, but I
failed.  The cock did not spew it's cum into my mouth.
As it slipped out of my mouth, I cried out to let me
try again, I would do better, I pleaded.  Please....

A soft fingertip on my lips stilled my anguish and the
zipper was closed.  I bent forward in shame, awaiting
my punishment for failing Her.  My head rested on the
ground.  I thought I knew what was coming, but I was
wrong.  It wasn't the whip I felt on my ass.  It was
the head of that stiff cock wet with my own saliva
being placed against the opening of my virgin ass.  My
head jerked up off the ground, my back arching in
silent protest against this invasion.  Gentle, soothing
hands spread my ass cheeks and a cool substance was
forced past the tightly clenched puckered ring.

I knew better than to resist, but to a completely
straight male, this was almost more than I could take.
I fought against this intrusion of my body by another
male's member with every fiber of my being.  In my
current position, the only things I could move were my
fingers.  I clenched and unclenched them in utter
frustration as the plumb-sized head of that solid
phallus slipped past the straining muscular ring.
Tears of frustration and humiliation filled the hood
covering my head.

Mistress lightly took hold of my clenching hands with
hers.  I vented all my pain and frustration into that
touch.  I cried out my terror and revulsion to this
homosexual act to her with my mind.  She drew it all
out of me.  But the penetration didn't stop.  I
understood it was what She wanted.  She knew that as
much as the pain and bondage had been hard for me to
accept from her, asking me to submit to this act was
the ultimate test for me.  I almost couldn't do it.  I
almost failed.  I could still feel and taste the
strange slipperiness of the male pre-cum in my mouth.
It gagged me.  And almost broke me.

I sensed the force of her gentle will surrounding me,
comforting me.  I relaxed into it, releasing into her
the abject terror in my soul.  I forced myself to
swallow the residual male fluids that were still in my
mouth.  I forced myself to push back on that intrusive
shaft, opening myself up to this rape, this homosexual
coupling.  I pushed back willingly, if not joyfully to
meet the hard, frenzied thrusts until I felt the hot
flooding of my colon.  I had not failed my Mistress
this time.  I wept at the immense pleasure I felt at
pleasing Her.

"Cum for me my love.  Cum."

And I came.  For Her.

Chapter 23

I woke up in bed.  I smelled hot coffee and bacon.  I
was famished.

I stumbled getting out of bed, my legs not wanting to
support me.  I didn't know how long I had been in the
dungeon, but it was long enough that my legs were not
used to supporting my weight.  My arms, Hell, my whole
body ached, including my eyelids.  Even the light
coming through the curtains hurt.  I felt like shit.

I held on to the dresser until I was stable, then
slipped on my robe.  I looked briefly at my body in the
mirror as I passed by.  There were remarkably few marks
or bruises, given what I had been through, and what I
felt like.  The marks around my wrists would last the
longest, I guessed.  I grinned, realizing I was almost
disappointed there wasn't more visible damage.  I was
definitely looking for the sympathy factor.  Or was it
I was looking for them as badges of courage?

I made my way to the kitchen, noting in passing that
Janey's room was empty, the bed made.  A sure sign she
was not at home.  I found myself standing at the
kitchen door, uncertain of what was to happen now.
D‚j… vu, all over again.

Two place settings, two coffee cups, one mine.  Fresh
squeezed OJ, red robe, tied extra tight.  I knew what
that meant.  Suddenly, I didn't ache quite as much.

I took her on the kitchen table, breakfast forgotten
for the time being.  Our coupling was gentle and
vicious at the same time.  We were at once equals to
each other and submissive to each other.  It was a
contest to see who could bring the most pleasure to the
other.  We both won.

I had to eat something, other than Sally, and wolfed
down an egg, some toast, bacon and washed it down with
OJ while Sally was recovering from her latest climax.
The coffee was cool by then, and we both downed a quick
cup before heading to the bedroom.

"Janey?"

"Out."

"How long?"

"Until I tell her I'm ready for her to come home."

"That bad, huh?"

"Shut up and make love to me."

I noticed she didn't say `Fuck me.'  So I didn't.  I
made love to my Love.

We called Janey home two days later.

That marked a major turning point in our relationship.
Right or wrong, what I had gone through had stilled the
fear that was growing in Sally.  I had experienced the
path Amud had talked about.  I would not lead her down
the wrong one, or take a wrong turn to a disastrous
destination.  She knew now she could trust me
completely as I had trusted her.

She literally glowed in her happiness.  Amazingly, over
time we found we could sense each other.  Not in a
conscious sense, but at a certain subconscious level.
I learned to trust this sense to guide me in our times
together, and she experienced climaxes of an intensity
that surprised even her.  As I became more adept at
sensing her needs, I could meet them better.  Sally
would stagger around the house for days in a state of
bliss, simply from the knowledge that we would be
together that night, or whenever she needed me.  Which
was often.

But as the time passed, she grew more and more anxious
as the much-anticipated start of her bondage sessions
didn't happen.  I could sense in her a restlessness, a
palpable spring of longing.  It was winding her up
tighter and tighter.  But I still needed time to
understand the things I was sensing, to get used to the
things I was feeling.  And to figure out what it was I
wanted to do with us.  She had let me know in no
uncertain terms that what happened next was up to me
alone.  Her complete and simple trust in me scared me
more than what I had just gone through.

I had always been pretty self-confident.  I had been
described as handsome, rugged, charming, etc.  I know I
never had problems attracting girls, and later, women
into my bed, at least up to the time I had met and
completely fallen for Sally.  But even that was in
character for me.  I always went after what I wanted,
and generally got it.  Not by luck, but by skill and
determination.  OK, some luck, and a lot of family
connections, too.

But now?  Even though I was scared shitless, now I
knew, or felt I knew what direction to take us.  I
wasn't just confident.  I was absolutely sure.  And it
scared even more shit out of me.  I remembered what had
happened when I had brutally taken Sally on the
shooting range.  I had been sure then, too, and I had
hurt her spirit, if not her asshole.

So I took my time, feeling my way slowly through this
new experience.  I practiced sensing her, then acting
on that information.  I learned to trust myself, and
grew stronger as a result.  I also found that that mind
control thing between us had grown.  I discovered I was
stronger now, much stronger that Sally or Janey.  Not
only that, but I found I could project it onto others
in a crude manner and affect their feelings.  I was not
just a transmitter of my own feelings and a receiver of
other's emotions.  I had control over what was sent
out.  But it was like playing with Nitroglycerin while
riding a bucking bronco.  Because my ability was so
powerful and unpredictable, I didn't play with it much.
I needed more help with that.

Other than that, things were getting down to normal.
Janey was settling into her summer routine.  Time heals
all wounds, and as the time passed, she seemed to
forget.  She seemed more at ease around the kids from
school, too, having them over on occasion for
cheerleading practice.

It was at one of these practices that I manage to
expose myself to the entire squad, and firmly re-
establish Janey as one of the most popular kids at
school, among the girls, anyway.  Janey had been at
cheerleading practice at the high school gym, and, as
usual, Sally and I took advantage of the privacy to
make love.  Not that Janey's presence ever held us
back.  With their link, Janey was very much a part of
the sexual experience - when she was around.  But it
was different, novel for Sally to do it alone, so we
took advantage of every opportunity.

Sally had drifted off into a light sleep after a
rigorous and satisfying bout.  I got up to get a bottle
of wine for when she awoke, so we could continue the
session uninterrupted.  I dashed into the family room
on my way to the kitchen.  It wasn't until I was
completely into the center of the room that it
registered that there were several people, all young
girls, all around me.

Gasps, silence.  Then, one girl, a brave one, no doubt,
whispered into the reverent silence, "Wow, Janey!  Your
Dad's big!  I didn't know they got that long!  Or
thick!"  I don't think she was referring to my feet or
my nose.

Beet red, but what the Hell,  "Hi, girls!  Uh, Sally
and I weren't exactly expecting you here today.
Obviously.  I just wanted to get some wine from the
kitchen.  I'll just grab a bottle and, uh, leave you
alone."  I started walking at what I thought a normal
pace would be for a naked man in a room full of excited
young girls towards the kitchen door, my erection
pointing the way.  The girls weren't the only ones
excited at that moment.

"That's OK, Dad.  I'll get it for you.  Would you like
to stay here and chat with the girls, or should I bring
it to you in your room?"

I grinned, looking around at the mixture of awed,
confused, embarrassed and outright lustful expressions
on the faces in the room.  "You'd better bring it into
the room.  Before I do anything really, really
embarrassing.  Thanks, honey."

Groans.

"No prob.  White or red?"  She was enjoying my
predicament way too much.

"White.  I'm red enough already!"  I raised my hand to
tip an imaginary hat to the girls, gave a gallant bow
to them and walked proudly - and stiffly - out of the
room.

Giggles and shouts of "chicken" and "please stay"
chased me down the hall, but fortunately none of the
girls did.  Sally was surprised at my sudden ardor as
she was still asleep when I entered her.  Then she
sensed Janey at home and heard the other girls' raucous
and bawdy laughter.

"Just what did you do, lover boy?  Is there anything I
should know?"

"Oh, nothing.  I just introduced myself to the girls on
the cheerleading squad."

"Oh, OK.  Hey, wait a minute!  Is that `myself' that's
poking into me right now?"

"Uh-huh.  Really, it was an accident.  Honest!"

"I'll bet, knowing how you like the young stuff.  Shit.
Nobody called the cops?"

"Not yet.  But the day is still young and Janey only
brought us one bottle.  I may have to go back out there
for another.  Would you like something to eat?  I'm
starved!  I'll just hop out and get..."  I was cut off
as she lowered herself over my face.

"Chew on this, dear.  I have all I want right here."
She gripped my cock firmly, letting me know what she
was referring to.  I mumbled my muffled reply, deeply
content with my current situation.

Not surprisingly, that one bottle was enough.

About a week later Sally and I were relaxing in the hot
tub.  It was just off our bedroom but Janey could get
to it by an outside door.  Besides, the doors were
never closed and she could get to it through our room.
Janey had been surprisingly respectful of our privacy
lately, as if she understood that we needed the time to
learn our new roles.

Sally and I never used suits when we were by ourselves,
as we were then.

"Hi, guys!  Mind if I join you?"  Janey's voice came
through the lattice.  I was surprised she asked.

"Not at all, come on in," said Sally.

"Hope you don't mind Mom, but I borrowed one of your
suits.  Fits pretty good, don't you think?"

I partly opened one eye and looked up at this blinding
vision of loveliness pirouetting on the deck.  I was
instantly hard.  She had on `the suit.'  Sally only
wore it now on special, very special occasions.  It
never failed to get me hard when Sally wore it.  And it
seemed to be having the same effect on me when Janey
wore it.

"Oh, dear."  Sally said softly.  Her hand immediately
went to my chest and slipped down to grasp the
periscope I had raised in celebration of the vision on
the deck.  She slipped up out of the water briefly and
straddled my body, facing away from me.  As she sat
back down over me, I entered her tightness and slowly,
ever so slowly felt myself slip up into her heat.

"Does she know?"  I whispered.

"Do I know what?" asked Janey, innocently.

"How special that suit is, for one," said Sally.

"What's so special about it?"

Sally turned to me.  I shrugged.  Janey already knew a
lot.  A little more shouldn't hurt.

"I wore that suit the first time we, uh, the first
time, uh..."

"What, Mom?  The first time you kissed? The
first...oooohhhh."  I could see the twinkle in her
eyes.  She sensed there was something more behind it
than just that, though, and she almost trembled in
anticipation of learning the juicy parts.  I grinned,
thinking I could cut to the chase and bring the
conversation to a halt.

"Your mother and I went to the shore for the day.  She
wore that suit.  She looked so hot in it, still does,
too, I couldn't keep my hands off her."

"Really?  He attacked you, Mom?"

Sally looked back around at me, smiling softly at the
fond memories.  "He didn't stand a chance.  It was a
calculated provocation, honey."  She turned back to her
daughter.  "It was very much like you're doing now."

"Oh."  I almost thought I saw a look of guilt flash
across that impish face.  "Am I that obvious?"

"To me.  But I think you'll need it to get through to
him, though; or something just as obvious.  He's pretty
dense about these things."

I was lost.  What the hell were they talking about?
Were they saying what I think?

"Just be careful with that particular suit especially
the bottoms.  He took me seven times that first time I
wore it.  And we've put it to good use many times since
without fail."

"No!  You're kidding, right?  Seven?  Guys can't...
they aren't supposed to... seven times?  All at once?
Bang, bang, bang?"

"Well, it took him the best part of that day.  And
believe me, it was the best part, too!"

"So what happened?"

"I discovered he can't resist my ass when I wear the
bottoms."

"Your ass?  You mean he put it in back there, like he
did in the woods?

"Uh-huh.  And like it is now."  I thought I had
recognized that particular tightness.  It was such a
lovely feeling.

"You mean you're doing it, right now?  Up your
butthole?  Wow!  Wait, you said the bottoms.  Don't you
wear the top?"

"Uh-uh.  Don't need `em."  She turned again to me,
wiggling her bottom cheeks provocatively against my
crotch.

"Like this?"

We both watched the tiny piece of cloth drift to the
deck. This time, as she turned, she paused facing away
from us, and bent slightly at the waist.  She looked
around at us over her shoulder.  She winked at me.  I
couldn't help it.  I flooded Sally's passage and did
not soften.

Sally looked back at me and grinned.  She enjoyed
teasing me with her luscious daughter, knowing I would
have her when Janey was ready.  And that point was fast
approaching.

Janey, topless, got in the hot tub and slid over next
to me, her bare breasts bobbing in the bubbling water.
"Mom, are you going to get off him anytime soon?  Do I
get a turn?"  She looked from one of us to the other.
"Come on, guys.  I've been pretty patient with you as
you acted like newlyweds, but a girl gets horny hearing
all that screaming.  And those moans Mom makes, too."

We laughed at her attempt at humor.  I could feel
Sally's indecision.  The time for me to deal with Janey
was approaching very fast, indeed.  She knew it was
what we agreed needed to be done, but she still just
couldn't quite accept the actuality of sharing me,
especially with her daughter.  I helped her make her
decision.  I slipped my hand around her waist and
captured her clit between my finger and thumb.  As I
rhythmically squeezed the sensitive nub, I slid another
finger into her cleft.  I heard her sigh, as she knew
this was one of the things I did when we were just
getting started for the night.

"No, dear.  Not tonight.  Tonight he is all mine."
Spoken softly into the night, her voice quivered, as if
she was crying.  Janey looked at her curiously, then
snuggled up against me, content that her mother was
extremely happy.  I felt the sharp points of her bare
nipples against my arm as she brushed them back and
forth.  She wasn't trying to turn me on, although I
didn't mind.  She just needed to feel someone else, to
share with us.  I put my free arm around her briefly
and gave her a hug.  Her wan smile told me she knew she
was out of luck tonight, but also told me that soon.
Soon...

I turned my attention to my lover, moving the arm that
had just hugged Janey around her to pull her back
against me.  I established a firm grip on her floating
breasts, switching from one luscious orb to the other,
teasing them, reveling in their resilience.

Sally was riding me slowly, tantalizing me, telling me
in her own special way that I belonged to her, now and
always.  I knew that, but it was nice, anyway.

"I will always be yours, my love."  I whispered in her
ear.  I paused.

"Cum for me."

I felt her anal muscles tighten around my iron prick as
she cried out and spasmed, the energy from her orgasm
flowing into all three of us.  Janey basked in those
feelings she shared with her Mom and soaked in the hot
water for a while.  She was still just a little jealous
of her mother's orgasms that she could only share
through their special link, but she was even happier
for her Mother's happiness to let it create a wall
between them.

We never noticed when Janey left.

Chapter 24

The start of the opera and symphony concert season in
the Fall was a big social event in our community.  The
first concert to be performed at this year's gala was
scheduled to be a collection of pieces by one of
Sally's favorite composers.  I thought his work was
pretty good, but personally I liked a more bombastic
style, like Wagner.  But for romance and setting the
mood, the season opener held a lot of promise.

Two weeks prior to the concert, I announced that the
opening night would be a special event for both Sally
and Janey.  Both immediately started bugging the shit
out of me, but, as I expected them to try their
damnedest to get a hint out of me, I was able to simply
smile at them.  It drove them nuts.  They didn't have a
clue what to expect.

The ornately wrapped packages from The Guild began
arriving shortly after my announcement.  Everything
that organization did, they did with style, and their
delivery service was no exception.  All packages not
taken by the customer immediately were delivered by
shining golden vans with ornate filigree detailing.  It
was much in the style of the royal coaches in the 18th
century.  There was no mistaking one of them as it
drove through the countryside.  You could almost feel
the envy of the neighbors when one of those vans
arrived in your driveway.  Some particularly nosy
gossips had been known to follow a van for miles out of
their way just to see who the lucky person was who was
on the receiving end of the delivery.

The vans were driven by special bonded couriers dressed
in distinctive red uniforms and pompous-looking tall
hats with plumes.  The couriers were male or female,
fit, polite, well-trained and well-armed.  It was a
good thing, too, given the value of some of the
deliveries they had to make.

The delivery area for the vans included a five-state
area.  Beyond that, the bonded couriers hand-delivered
each package, using whatever mode of transportation was
best suited to meet the delivery schedule.  And always
with that dash of style and panache, of course.  More
and more of the distinctive red uniforms were being
spotted on over-seas flights as the craftsmen of The
Guild became known throughout the world for the quality
of their work.  It was unparalleled.  The red uniforms
soon provided automatic and easy entry into countries
with normally very tight customs officials.  It didn't
usually take more than one reprimand from a king or
high official to grease the skids.

I had specified that the packages were to be delivered
sealed, and they were.  Sally and Janey had some very
unkind words for me when they realized the boxes were
sealed with a wax Guild seal, and their efforts at
snooping were thwarted.  Again, I merely smiled,
enjoying the mounting frustrations and tensions in
them.  Anticipation and the unknown make a wonderful
combination in a woman.  I only hoped what I had
planned for the evening lived up to their expectations.

The morning of the event I placed new silk robes on
their beds and awoke each with a kiss and a light
breakfast.  They were instructed to bathe - not shower
- using the special bath beads I had placed in their
bathrooms for at least 90 minutes, and not to leave
their rooms.  They were to be in my office down the
hall ready for their first appointment of the day at
11:00 that morning.

Both appeared in my office about 5 minutes early, their
reddened skin glowing pink through the light white silk
of the short robes.  The robes had no belts, much to
Sally's disappointment, I think, and opened with the
slightest motion.  I smiled at them, motioned for them
to sit in the chairs in my office, and proceeded to
ignore them for the next 5 minutes.  With extreme
difficulty on my part, I might add.  The robes were
opened quite often and intentionally.  I didn't get any
actual work done, but I made my point, I hope.  I was
surprised they were only 5 minutes early.

At exactly 11:00 I stood up, kissed the back of Janey's
hand and led her out to the family room.  There was a
table set up inside a cloth booth.  I held out my hand
for her robe, which she gave me.  I looked at her nude
form for several moments, touching her lightly.  As I
anticipated, even those light caresses caused shivers
of delight to chase each other up and down her spine.
She was panting by the time I helped her up onto the
table and instructed her to lie face down.

I placed a folded towel across her glorious posterior.
This brought a moan of disappointment from her.  I
think she thought I was going to screw her on the table
right then.  As tempting as that was, I had other
plans.

I held back one of the flaps of the booth and motioned
for the person standing silently outside to enter.  The
slightly built woman of Asian descent moved gracefully
into the booth.  She bowed low to me, then shrugged off
her over-blouse.  This left her in just a short band of
cloth covering her genital area, tied at one side
sarong style. As she turned to Janey, I caught sight of
a pair of firm apple-sized tits topped with chocolate
nipples.

The masseuse kneeled up on the table next to the girl,
lightly tracing the lines and patterns of the muscles
on her back.  As I left the cubicle, I heard the first
of many moans as Janey relaxed into her first massage.

Sally was pouting prettily when I returned for her, but
brightened as I took many more liberties with her than
just kissing her hand.  I brought her quickly to the
edge of a climax, then eased off and just let her
simmer on the edge.  When I was done teasing her, I
pulled her robe back around her to cover her arousal
and led her into the family room.  A table in the
second booth waited for her.

She gave me a quizzical look when she heard the low,
long moans coming from the adjacent booth.  I held out
my hand and helped her off with her robe in answer.  I
beheld her naked beauty once again, appreciating it as
if for the first time.  My open - and very obvious -
admiration of her charms brought a pleasing blush to
her skin, spreading from her face, down her neck and on
to the tops of her creamy breasts.

I helped her onto the table.  With nudges and lingering
touches I maneuvered her so she was face down and then
let her masseuse into the booth.  The two Asian women
could have been twins, the only difference being that
Sally's had longer hair.  She, too, climbed on the
table and straddled Sally's waist, one knee on each
side of the prone woman.  One rubbery ass cushioned the
other.  I waited until the low purring Sally makes when
she is contented started to come from her booth as
well, and left them alone.

I grinned maliciously as I went back to the office, not
to work, but to rest.  I was going to need it.  The two
masseurs had instructions to keep the two women relaxed
but aroused for the next hour.  Under no circumstances
were Sally or Janey to be allowed to orgasm.  I wanted
them so on edge their teeth hurt.  Tonight would be
special indeed.

Sally and Janey kind of oozed into my office an hour
later, their eyes glazed and knees wobbly from the
stimulating massages they had just undergone.  But the
blush on their cheeks was unmistakable.  Janey's
expression mirrored her mother's, and I was very
familiar with Sally's `if I don't get fucked in two
seconds, I'll chop it off and stuff it in myself' look.
It was time for the first box.

I reached into my desk and pulled out two small
packages.  I handed one to Janey and one to Sally.

"You may open these now," I said.

The bows were ripped off with the ferocity of lions at
the first kill in a month.  Their twin gasps of
pleasure were almost synchronized to the nanosecond.

"Oh, Dad!  It's beautiful!  Mom, look!"  Janey held up
a white-gold necklace with a ruby encrusted key on the
chain.  The length of the chain let the key snuggle
into the top of her cleavage.  I moved around behind
her and put it on her.  It was her first piece of
expensive jewelry, and she was as pleased as I had ever
seen her.

"That is the key to my heart, Honey.  I wanted you to
know how I felt about you and that you will always have
a special place there," I whispered in her ear as I
hooked the clasp securely.

She turned and hugged me, tears in her eyes.  "I love
you, Dad.  Thank you so much!  It's beautiful."

Sally was still staring at her present.  It, too, was
jewelry.

"Here, my love, let me help you with that."  I moved
behind her and waited until she finally lifted the ends
of the jewelry into my hands.  Her head bowed as I
fastened it behind her neck with a solid click.

I leaned down and whispered so that only she could
hear.  "Do you understand what it means when you wear
this?"

She nodded.  Her hand slipped up to lightly touch the
jeweled slave's collar I had locked around her neck.
The collar was wide, about two and a half inches.  It
was an intricate weave of platinum wire and rods that
let it flex around her neck, but not warp or roll in
any other axis.  The wire and rods were covered with
reflective stones, mostly diamonds with some emeralds
mixed in.  The effect was to create a band of light
around her neck with mysterious flashes of emerald.  It
was more beautiful than I had hoped when I described it
to the jeweler.  It was devastating.

As I stood behind her, watching her reaction, drinking
in her beauty, I noticed the trembling of her body, and
I wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement.  I hoped
the latter.  I brushed her cheek lightly with my lips
before continuing.

"I want this night to be special for you.  I know how
much you have longed for this to begin, and it will,
tonight.  But it will still be a little while, yet.
You may wear this collar now, or not, your choice.  I
will not require anything of you until all your
preparations for this evening are complete.  Until
then, you will behave as Sally.  Understood?"  I lifted
her chin and looked her in the eye.

"Yes, Master," she whispered softly.  Then she threw
her arms around me, squealing with delight.  The two
women ooohhed and aaahhhed over each other's adornments
until I ushered them out to the next appointment.

I led them back into the family room.  The booths and
the massage tables were gone and in their places stood
two barber-style chairs.  An exclusive beauty salon
from a near-by town had sent two highly skilled
technicians and two assistants to pamper my two
princesses.  When they had been comfortably seated in
the chairs, the technicians flew into a choreographed
dance of activity around my two blondes.  I had ordered
the works for them.  They were manicured, pedicured,
trimmed, oiled, scrubbed, rubbed, tubbed, sanded, face-
packed, mud-packed and every other tortuous process
women go through for the sake of beauty.

As much as I loved doing it myself, I had Sally shaved.
Janey's pubic region was trimmed way back from her
bikini wax to just a thin strip of short soft hairs
pointing to paradise.  The technicians and assistants
had the same instructions as the masseuses.  They were
to keep the treatments as sensual as possible without
letting them go over the edge.  From the cries of
frustration I heard coming through the open door of my
office, they were very good at their jobs.

When the treatments were done, two of the technicians
led the pampered women to their respective bathrooms
where the assistants had drawn another steaming bath
for each them.  There the girls were stroked, soaked,
soaped and rinsed, stroked some more, hair washed and
conditioned, and then stroked and soaked again in
steaming hot water with bath oils added.

When they were done, they were led back into the family
room where their hair was done.  At my instructions,
Janey's blonde tresses were done up in an elegant style
leaving her shoulders and neck bare.  Sally's hair was
braided in an elegant French braid, the broad
intertwining stands hanging down in a single plait that
reached halfway down her back.

Makeup was applied skillfully after their hair was
done.  Although only 15, Janey looked much older when
she was finished.  Sally was made up just as
skillfully, looking regal but more like her sister than
Janey's mother.  Of course, all the powders and paints
could only accent the beauty of the canvases they were
applied to.  The flashes of excitement in the eyes of
the two painted ladies were repeated many times over in
the tiny sparkles embedded in the blush applied to
their faces.  I smiled in satisfaction.  They were like
two little kids, full of excitement on Christmas
morning.

The day was creeping by, closing in on the opening of
the opera.  I saw the technicians out to their van.
They would return after we left to pack their
equipment.  Their service had been excellent.  They
would be retained again, and often.

Alone with Sally and Janey, I began the difficult final
phase of the preparation.  I would now have to reveal
more of my plans for the evening to them, taking away
some of the mystery.  I took Janey by the hand and led
her to her room.  There I presented her with a stack of
boxes, all with The Guild's seal.

"Your attire for this evening is in those boxes.  I
hope you like it."  I paused, feeling almost like a
teenager again.  "Uh, Janey, I would like this evening
to be kind of like our first date; a special time just
between you and me.  Will you go with me as my `date'
this evening?" I offered formally.

Her eyes got big, then clouded as she remembered Sally.
"What about Mom?"

I looked directly at her, holding her hands in mine.
"Janey, your mother will be there, too.  She will be
with us, but she won't be, kind of."  She looked
quizzical.  "Look, I hope I'm doing the right thing
with her tonight.  But it's kind of hard to explain.
When you have dressed, come into our room.  Perhaps you
will understand after you see her.  She will be happy
tonight, Honey.  At least, I hope so."

I could feel her questioning eyes burning holes in my
back as I left the bewildered teenager standing there.
At the door, I turned.

"Is it a date?"

"Oh, yes!  I'm sorry.  Yes!"  She shook off the rest of
her questions and tore into the many boxes.  I wished I
could stay and watch the reverse striptease as the
buxom teen got dressed.  I had no intention of
disrobing her this evening, but it would have been
delectable.  I had chosen clothing that appealed to my
sensuous side and I hoped it would appeal to hers as
well.

I had purchased soft silky under things that were as
sheer as possible for her to wear tonight.  They were
more for window dressing than function.  Unfortunately,
I wasn't planning to be doing any window shopping
tonight.  The tiny bra and panties were virginal white
and had a matching garter belt.  I had a sense it would
be her first, but the sheer white stockings only came
to just above her mid-thigh, so it was necessary.
Besides, I wanted her to be aware of the availability
of her sex.  Pantyhose, while convenient for the
workplace, acted like armor plating in a romantic
situation.

Her dress was a simple black affair, deceptive in
style.  The material was silk, with silver highlights
woven into it.  It was not a revealing cut and fully
covered her, yet the dress revealed her charms to the
sharp observer.  With the exception of two silver
straps over her shoulders, she was bare above the
swells of the tops of her breasts.  The material fell
to ankle length, hugging her body closely, outlining
and defining her breasts, abdomen, hips and legs.  Two
sexy slits from the bottom hem to just above mid-thigh
allowed her to move freely.

I had also provided her with the highest heeled shoes
she had ever worn.  I hoped she wouldn't be too off
balance by their height.  The dress was designed to be
worn with that height heel.  The silver shoes, the
silver straps, and the white gold of her necklace
brought out the highlights in the dress.  She was going
to look elegant.

There were also some strange accessories from the Rosen
Clinic in a separate box.  I hoped she wouldn't object
to them.  Having been fitted for them, they shouldn't
cause much, if any, discomfort, either on application,
or wear.  There were two soft plastic cups that fit
perfectly over each breast.  They were so exactly
shaped that they were labeled `Left' and `Right' so
they wouldn't be confused.  They were thin and pliable
and you could still see her erect nipple through her
dress when aroused.  I intended for her to spend most
of the evening in that state.

Two other accessories were designed to slip into the
vagina and rectum.  They were thin, relatively innocent
looking devices that could shake her to her core.
There were instructions with drawings enclosed in the
boxes showing how and where to insert each special
accessory.  The vaginal probe had a small curved arm at
about 90 degrees that ended in a small hollow cap.  The
cap fit snuggly over her quiescent clitoris, but would
expand as necessary.

The finale of the Rosen's gadgets was a pair of
earrings, sparkling like diamonds, which they were.
The clasps of the earrings incorporated a Rosen unit
that turned the ears into a highly erotic zone.  I
wasn't sure how it worked, but I believed in their
work, so I was sure it would be effective.  Janey was
in for a memorable night.

But I didn't watch her dress.  I had other things to
do.  Namely, prepare my lover for her own special
night.  I wasn't really sure how she would receive the
news about my date with her daughter.  That was a
gamble on my part.  I only hoped it paid off.

I went back into the family room to find Sally on her
knees, her hands clasped behind her neck, her head
bowed down.  God, what that did to her tits!  I was
tempted to let her stay in that position and use her
mouth.  It had been a `hard' day for me.  But this was
too early yet for what I had planned.  And she was just
a bit too eager.

"Sally, stand up, please.  Your preparations for this
evening are not yet complete.  I have some things to
ask you which require an honest and open response.
Please?"  I held out my hand.

She looked at me sexily, glancing up through those
gorgeous lashes.  My favorite look.  Her smile ignited
my heart as she gracefully took my hand and got up.  I
held her gaze and never noticed when she released my
hand.  I was lost in a sea of emotion, torn between my
need to treat this woman I loved with all my heart with
tenderness and love, and fulfilling her need to be
dominated and bound.  Steeling myself to keep to the
plan I had chosen for the evening, I took her hand and
led her to the bedroom, where I had laid out her
attire.

It wasn't much.  She still had on her glittering slave
collar.  I ushered to her dressing table and sat her in
the low stool in front of it.  I first took a slender
package and opened it, withdrawing a pair of stockings
similar to Janey's.  These had a bit more cling around
the top banding to hold them without garters, however.
I slowly slid them over the smooth skin of her long
legs, caressing each one as the stocking slid into
place.  We were both trembling when it was over.  It
was one of the most erotic things I had ever done for
her, and her excitement was visible, as was mine.

Next I selected a long narrow box.  Amud and his wife
had made this piece.  I withdrew a pair of shoulder-
length white gloves of the finest leather.  They looked
and felt like velvet and were without blemish.  She
held out one hand, then the other as I slipped them up
her proffered arms.  As I smoothed them out, working
the wrinkles up to the tops, I squeezed the top of each
glove, tightening my hand around her upper biceps.  The
faint click of a ratchet could be heard as the metal
rings hidden in the top of the gloves closed on
themselves, locking the gloves on her arms.

Sally's eyes were wide with excitement at this
development, though she stayed silent.  When I closed
the rings at each elbow and wrist, tightly binding the
gloves to her arms, she closed her eyes and shuddered.

"You may not cum until I give permission.  Is that
clear, Sally?"

She nodded, silent, not trusting her voice.

I gently pulled her wrists behind her and fastened the
metal rings embedded in the gloves together with tiny
hooks.  Other hooks were hidden in the seams of the
gloves and I joined and locked them one by one, until
her forearms were touching from elbow to wrist behind
her back.  The final connection was at the level of the
metal rings just above her elbows.  Sitting on the
stool, her chest thrust forward, she held my gaze with
her fiery green eyes.  Not defiant, but victorious, in
a sense.  I didn't know what she thought she had won,
other than my heart, but there was victory was in her
eyes.

I moved around in front of her, and slipped silver
heels on her feet.  Unlike Janey's four-inch heels,
Sally's were outrageous.  The heels were six inches, at
least, in height and they had a narrowing toe to
torture her all night long.  Her foot was pointed
almost straight down in those shoes.  A low moan
escaped her as the shoes tightly gripped her feet and
were buckled tight with a strap across her instep and
another that wrapped tight around her ankle.

Two boxes remained.  A large box, and a small one.  I
leaned over to the bed and picked up the small one.
Still in front of her, I got down on one knee.  The big
moment.

I took a deep breath.  "Sally, I love you with all my
heart.  In all that happened during and since that time
when you agreed to marry me, I never formally proposed
to you."  I placed my folded hands on her stocking-clad
thighs, got down on one knee, and looked up at her.
"Sally, would you do me the honor of consenting to be
my wife?"

There.  It was said.  She had the option of backing
out, saying `No,' crushing me like a bug.  Of course,
she did have her hands tied behind her back, so at
least I figured she wouldn't slap me.  My groin was
exposed to her feet, though, and with this family...

The silence was unbearable.  The heat stifling.  I
broke out in a sweat.  A lump the size of New Jersey
and almost as toxic formed in my throat.  I think my
lower lip trembled.

"Yes."

My heart resumed beating, my lungs filled with sweet
air.  I cried.  Well, just a little.

I beamed, grinned, the proverbial mile-wide, shit-
eating grin.  "We never talked about rings and stuff,
but I noticed you don't wear rings much.  I took the
liberty of getting you a temporary engagement ring.  If
you don't like this one, there are other styles..."  I
opened the box and showed her the heart-shaped diamond
I had had designed for her.

She gasped.  "Oh!  It's gorgeous!  Oh, Larry, you
shouldn't have.  You didn't need to.  You know that.  I
don't need such an expensive stone.  Oh, dear..."  She
suddenly noticed her hands were bound.  "Larry?  I
don't see a setting.  Just the stone.  How...?"

I took a fine platinum wire ring from the box.  Lifting
up my hands I gently grasped her left breast.  I worked
my thumb around the tip until the excitable flesh
hardened and swelled up.  Grasping the end of the
nipple with my thumb and forefinger of one hand I
pulled it slightly towards me.  It was unnecessary for
what I was about to do, but I loved that little flare
of her eyes and her nostrils when I did that.

I threaded the wire through the hole that was already
pierced in her left nipple and secured the stone to the
wire.  The heart shaped stone nestled just below her
aroused nipple.  It sent shards of light bouncing
around the room with each breath she took and with each
beat of her heart.

"Oh, my!  Larry!"  She was speechless.  I think she
liked it.

I leaned forward to kiss the stone, and the surrounding
environment, too.  Tears of joy dripped on her breasts.
I was glad they had used waterproof make up on her
face.

Standing, I helped her to her feet.  With her hands
bound behind her, she was rather unsteady on the tall
heels.  I had her walk back and forth across the room
to get used to them.  By the second time up and back
she had mastered them.  I had her do a few more laps
just so I could see the effect the heels and her bound
hands had on her bouncing tits and her legs and ass as
she sashayed up and back in front of me.  Her smile
told me she had been watching my reaction in the mirror
as she walked away.  I grinned back and had her do one
more lap for good measure.  She really threw herself
into that one.

I motioned for her to kneel at the foot of the bed.
She was now as ready as she was going to be.  I needed
to get dressed, however.

She watched with interest as I dressed in my tuxedo.
She raised her eyebrow when I omitted my normal boxers,
but I ignored her unspoken questions with a pained look
of innocence.  She stuck out her tongue then licked her
lips.  For a minute I wondered if she knew what I had
planned.  Tough.  I wasn't going to change it now.  I
finished getting ready for my date with Janey.  It felt
strange to be primping for one female in the presence
of another.

Sally's last box was on the bed.  We both stared at it,
the final preparation.  I walked over to the bed and
opened the box.  I lifted out an emerald green velvet
cape.  I held it out to her and she got up and walked
over to me, turning her back to me just as she
approached.  I settled the cape over her shoulders.

The cape fastened at the neck with a silver brooch.
The two front flaps had a series of discreet clasps
that kept the cape securely together.  There was enough
overlap so that no one was going to get a peepshow
through an inopportune gap.  The bottom of the cape
just cleared the floor, except in the front, where the
material was cut away to expose her legs up to her
knees.  It looked odd, in a fashionable way, but there
was a purpose.

"My love, the preparations are complete.  You are to
remain silent tonight.  Not one word.  You will be able
to enjoy the concert.  I will not take that away from
you.  You will not cum until I give you specific
permission."  She kept her head bowed, nodding her
understanding of each instruction.  I continued.

"My love, do you remember the terms of our bet?"

She nodded.

"That will be your position at anytime we are out of
the public eye."  I heard a gasp.

I had had my trousers modified to replace the zipper
with a Velcro strip.  I opened the fly and sat on the
stool.  "Well?"  My cock, having suffered through the
entire day with no attention, stuck its head out to get
a breath of fresh air.  It swelled at the sight of her
beauty and beckoned her with each heartbeat closer,
closer, closer.

Her warm mouth enveloped the head as she knelt between
my legs.  The cutout of the cape material in the front
let her get up and down on her knees without the danger
of becoming entangled in the excess cloth.

I reached down to stroke her golden hair.  It was time
for the bombshells.

"Janey will be joining us shortly.  You will not move
from your task when she enters.  Tonight, I am Janey's
date.  You are going to be an accessory, my slave."  I
fought hard not to soften that word with an expression
of my love, a reassurance to her, to me.  "You will
walk behind us when we move in public.  When we are in
public, you will act normally, head raised, eyes up,
but you will remain silent in the presence of anyone
other than the three of us.  I will not tolerate your
humiliation in the presence of strangers.  Is that very
clear?"

I felt the slightest nod through my fingers in her
hair.  She had not moved once, but I had sensed the
tightening of her muscles as she strained to control
herself.

"In the event Janey should need you, I have provided a
quick release mechanism on the gloves.  If you will
feel with your left index finger along the ball of the
left thumb, you will feel a slight bump in the
material.  Pressing firmly on that bump will release
your arms, and you may attend to Janey.  She is our
first priority, even more important than this.
Understood?

"Any infraction, however small, will result in
punishment.  That punishment will be severe."  I let
the silence build after that statement.  It hung there
like a sledgehammer until Janey strolled elegantly into
the room.

"Hi, guys.  Ready to...oops!  Sorry!  I'll come
back..."

"Stop!  It's all right, Janey, come on in."

She gave me a funny look, going back and forth between
her mother sucking my cock and me.

"I was just explaining to your mother what this evening
was going to be like.  If you can accept her going
along as a silent consort, we will continue.  You are
to ignore her unless you need her.  OK?"

Janey was still for a minute, looking to her link with
her mom.  She smiled.  "Cool!  She's happy.  OK.  Let's
go."

"One more thing, were you able to wear everything?"

She gave me a disgusted look.  "Yes, Daddy.  And some
of the jewelry was very, very personal."  She shifted
her hips as she spoke, indicating some discomfort in
her groin.

"Is everything all right?  Are you in pain, hurting?"

"Nooo!  It's just not every date that has you insert a
plastic tube up your butt before you go out.  Geeze,
Dad!"  She giggled, the little girl emerging.  "I'm
fine.  Let's go.  I heard a limo arrive just as I was
coming down the hall.

I tapped Sally on the chin with a feather touch and she
rose to her feet gracefully, without assistance.  With
her taller heels, she towered over Janey, but her eyes
remained firmly downcast.

"Oh, Janey, Honey you look absolutely beautiful.  I
hope you like the dress."

"God, Dad.  I feel like a movie star.  Thank you so
much for today.  You made me feel special."

"The night is just beginning.  And when we're in
public, you should probably call me `Larry.'  Some of
them might think something is going on between us."

"Well, isn't there something going on?"  She still
thought tonight was going to be all hers.

"What?  On a first date?  No way, young lady."  As we
laughed, I gathered her elbow in my arm and guided her
out of the room.  I didn't look back to see if Sally
would follow.  She had her instructions.

At the entry hallway, I had one more surprise for
Janey.  I slipped the white ermine stole from the small
table standing there and put it around her shoulders.
The soft fur of the innocent animals rubbed against her
cheeks as she held it to her tightly.  I saw the pain
in her eyes as she realized the sacrifice the donors of
the fur had made.  It made her appreciation of the wrap
all that more precious.

The limo was waiting, the liveried driver standing by
the rear door.  She had been well briefed on the timing
and the routes to take, both going to the opera house
and returning home.  She snapped to attention as we
exited the house and held the rear door open for us.  I
helped Janey into the car.  She slid over to the middle
of the seat.  I got in next and sat on the left side.

I did not offer to assist Sally.  It was difficult to
navigate without having her arms free to help her keep
her balance, and the high heels didn't help.  To say I
was concerned would be an understatement.  I was ready
to leap to her aid.  I just prayed the driver
remembered to be ready to catch her if she fell
backwards.  I didn't want her to smash her head on the
pavement.  It would have put a kind of damper on the
evening...

I shouldn't have worried.  Sally gracefully entered the
rear compartment and settled lightly on the seat behind
the driver.  Her head remained bowed, but I did see a
slight sheen of moisture on her upper lip.  I took my
pocket-handkerchief, leaned forward and patted her lip
lightly.  My fingers lingered on the smooth skin of her
face.

Settling back in the seat of the car, I noticed with
pleasure that the windows were darkened, giving us
complete privacy.  The barrier between the driver's
compartment and ours was opaque.  I had the override
switch.  It would stay up.  Seeing we were invisible to
the outside world, I reached down and opened my pants,
allowing my soft cock to roll out.

"Dad!  Can't you wait?  Geeze!"  Janey stared at the
soft tube then started to reach for it.

"Sorry, kiddo.  That's not for you.  First date,
remember?  You wouldn't want me to have to worry about
you when you start dating guys your own age now, would
you?"

"Well, no.  But, I mean, like, it's not like I haven't
seen it before and all.  I just thought... Hey, how
come she gets to have it?  That's not fair!"

Sally had knelt between my legs and had captured the
head of my cock in her mouth.  I was gritting my teeth
to keep it soft, but with her phenomenal mouth, it was
a loosing battle.  She slowly raised herself up to keep
just the head in her mouth as I swelled to full
hardness.  I caressed her hair absently as she kept her
place.

Janey and I maintained a light banter on the 45-minute
drive to the gala.  She tried to ignore her mother, but
her eyes would frequently drift down to watch the still
figure holding my cock in her mouth.  I figured it was
time for a distraction.

I reached into my pocket and fingered the remote the
Rosen's had provided.  The devices they had sent over
last week were advanced from what they had used before.
The earrings were tuned to Janey's brainwaves.  The
remote could be used to stimulate just a single area,
such as her ears or could hit other areas, as well.  I
had it turned so that just her ears would be
sensitized.  I dialed it to a low level and switched it
on.

She didn't show any visible signs of noticing anything
different.  She had been staring out the far window at
a view of the river.  I lifted my hand and pulled her
by the shoulder over closer to me.  Smiling, she looked
up at me expectantly.  I leaned down and lightly blew a
stream of warm, moist air so that it barely touched her
ear.  I watched the tiny cilia wave slightly as the
wind moved them.

Janey stiffened in my grasp then shuddered.  A low moan
escaped her lips and her hand, which had been resting
on my thigh, dug in with all five freshly manicured
nails.

I blew past it again with the same response.  She let
her head fall back on my shoulder and just before her
eyelids closed, I saw her eyes rolling back in her
head.  I barely touched her other ear with my finger.
My hand hovered just over her shoulder, my arm trapped
by her head.

Janey jolted from the soft touch of my finger, actually
bouncing out of the seat.  She stiffened almost
straight then relaxed into her orgasm.  A strangled cry
tore from her as she continued to climax hard.  She was
so full of sexual tension from the day's activities
that it hadn't taken much to set off a tremendous
explosion.

As she cried, I felt Sally flinch.  She had felt
Janey's release through the link.  While I didn't mind
her sharing it, I did mind the teeth marks she left on
my cock when she winced.  I reached down and lifted her
head off my cock.  With one finger under her chin, I
lifted her eyes to mine.

"That's one," was all I said.

She nodded her acknowledgement of the infraction,
understanding and accepting her pending punishment.

I kept Janey in a constant state of climax for the
remaining 20 minutes of the trip.  The driver flashed
the lights briefly to indicate two minutes to arrival.
I tapped Sally on the top of the head to indicate she
was to retake her seat.  I turned the intensity of the
signal to Janey's ears down a bit.  She had relieved a
lot of tension, but I wanted to build her back up
through the concert for the ride home.  I initiated the
signals to the devices covering her breasts.  I kept
these signals low, as I didn't want her staggering
through the lobby of the opera house.

The driver opened the rear door, handed out Janey,
saluted me, and waited for Sally to get out.  She had
been instructed not to help Sally, unless she was
falling.  I noticed she was alert for any trouble, and
I turned my attention to the crowd of fellow concert-
goers.  It was the usual crowd of the rich, the almost
rich and the wannabes.  I kept an eye out for familiar
faces, and for anyone who looked like they were heading
towards us, especially those who might want to speak
with Sally.

Janey recognized several of her High School friends.
All were dressed to be seen, but they looked absolutely
juvenile next to her.  She introduced me as her `Dad'
to those who were confident enough to come over to
speak with her.  Several of my acquaintances ventured
closer to get a better look at Janey.  More than a few
raised a questioning eyebrow, which I returned with an
innocent smile.  I introduced Janey as the daughter of
my fianc‚ to a couple of them.  Their disbelief was
obvious.

I was curious to know what Sally was doing to avoid
conversation.  I caught her reflection in a shining
brass ornament.  Her head was bowed so low it was
almost parallel to the ground.  No wonder no one wanted
to speak with her!

I turned around, tipped up her face with a finger under
her chin, and said,

"That's two, three and four."

Her eyes widened at the multiple counts.  She knew she
had displeased me greatly by disobeying.  I think she
had hoped to escape with one additional count, not
three.

Holding her head high, she took a deep breath.  I could
still see the fear in her eyes, but also resolve.  She
would not displease me again.

I turned to get Janey and guided her to our box as the
lights dimmed in the lobby.  Sally followed obediently.

I opened the door to the box and ushered my date
inside.  Stepping through, I waited until Sally was
through, then I closed the door and slid the privacy
bolt home.  I looked around the box.  The re-furbishing
had gone better than I had hoped.

About a month ago, the manager of the opera house had
called me.  He was in a bind, to put it politely.  It
seems he had promised my season seats to someone who
wouldn't take `No' for an answer; someone who
apparently could make his life very miserable, as well.
The only other seats available for the entire season
were in one of the private boxes.  He described it to
me, and as he went over the features, location, size,
etc., I had had the idea for what I had put into play
tonight.

The manager had been hoping I would just take the box
in a direct exchange for the other three seats.  He was
flabbergasted when I not only accepted, but insisted on
paying full price for this season and the following
four seasons as well.  That type of plan elevated me to
a special guest of the opera, not to mention an
immediate personal friend of the manager.  One of the
benefits of that status was that if I wanted to be left
alone, no one would be barging in on us.  Hence, the
privacy bolt on the inside of the door.  Mine was
currently the only box with that feature.

One other feature I had insisted on, which I saw had
been implemented, was that our seats were not visible
from any spot in the house, nor from the stage.  The
manager had accomplished that by moving our seats
slightly back into the interior of the box and by
slightly raising the height of the railing across the
front of our box.  Now I understood why he had asked
the height of the shortest person.  Seated, Janey could
just see comfortably over the top of the railing.  He
had also extended the sidewalls of the box to prevent
anyone from peeking around from one of the adjacent
boxes.

The intermission refreshments were waiting in the back
on a small table.  The box looked almost empty, as I
had specified only two seats and a prayer rail, the
padded kneeling benches found in some liturgical
orthodox churches.  To his credit, he had not asked a
single question about the arrangements.

Janey was giddy with the excitement of the opening
sounds of the orchestra, rushing to the rail and
looking out over the audience.  I noticed her nipples
were clearly visible, excited by the stimulus of the
Rosen's devices.  Feeling mischievous, I turned the
signals to both sets of the devices up a little, and
then goosed the output with the pulse button.  I saw
her hands grip the railing tightly and her knees
buckled slightly as she sagged against the railing.
She didn't make a sound, though.

Sally, standing behind me sagged as well, leaning into
my back heavily.  I turned to her.

"Did you just cum?"

She nodded.

"That's five.  My love, is the link with Janey too
strong for you?  I can dampen it for you if you wish."

Again she nodded, but only after thinking about it.
Being linked with Janey was her normal state.  But
neither woman was in a normal state tonight.  Both were
filled with sexual tension.  Janey was getting relief,
in a matter of speaking, but Sally was not.  In fact,
by sharing Janey's `relief,' Sally's sexual tensions
were climbing higher.  She would not be able to take
much more without completely losing it.  So she elected
to let me try to block the link, like I had done that
one time after our week of celibacy.

I had been doing some research on paranormal topics,
brain waves, meditation, and stuff like that.  I had
needed to learn not only about what was going on, but
how to control it.  Some of the most obscure stuff had
been the most helpful.  I had read about how to focus
on a picture of what I wanted to do, like I had
pictured a fist squeezing my cock to delay myself from
ejaculating that night.  It had also been suggested not
to picture specific things attached or connected to
people, as that could severely harm them if one
possessed the power of telekinesis.  We had been lucky
that time that I had only tried to delay, not prevent
it altogether.  Because I was touching Sally at the
time, she had been affected as well, and, through the
link, so had Janey.

This time I focused on a one-way mirror, the reflective
side toward Janey, the transparent side towards Sally.
The `mirror' should not affect Janey's perception of
Sally, but Sally would not feel Janey's releases.  It
was the best I could do on short notice.

Janey came back to her chair, a wary look on her face.
She had figured out I had something to do with the
erotic feelings around her tits, but her ears were new
to her.  I think she had at first assumed that because
her hair was up and they were exposed that they were
more sensitive, but she wasn't dumb.  Finally she
asked.

"Dad, are you doing that to me?"

I grinned at her.  "Uh-huh.  Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell, no!  But you could give a girl a chance to catch
her breath, OK?"

"OK."  I waited a heartbeat.  "Quick!  Take a breath."

She giggled.  I hit the pulse button, and the giggling
dissolved into a low moan.  She sagged into her chair
and leaned over on my shoulder.

I leaned over and kissed her gently.  "I wasn't joking,
kiddo.  This will be a night you will remember for a
long time.  Forever, I hope.  Just hang on and enjoy
the ride.  If it gets to be too much, take off the
earrings and I will stop.  Fair enough?"

She reached up and grabbed my tie, using it to pull my
face down to hers.  "Fair enough, but one of these days
I'll get you back."

"I can't wait."  I grinned evilly as I turned the
intensity up another notch, and activated the lower
devices as well to a low setting.  With all devices
going, she was in a constant state of arousal, crashing
over the edge, climbing out just to teeter precariously
for a minute and then crashing back over.  Her shudders
were spaced about 3-5 minutes apart.  She was going to
have a long concert.  It would be one she would always
remember, but I doubted if she would remember the
music.

I looked up to see Sally looking closely at Janey's
quaking frame.  I admired her restraint.  Her normal
means of contact with her daughter was blunted and now
it appeared as if she was having fits.  I focused on
the mirror and made it not quite as effective.  I had
focused on a total reflection of Janey's feelings.  Now
I focused on letting the shadows and vague shapes come
through.

Sally jolted as the first vague feelings hit her, and I
dampened it down a little.  I still needed a lot of
practice fine-tuning this thing.  Janey was going to be
climbing a lot higher, later tonight, and I didn't want
to overload Sally.  The look of concern eased from
Sally's face.  Just before she cast her eyes back down,
she looked at my face.  I smiled.  She paled, thinking
she had displeased me.

"My love, she is our first priority.  I had cut you off
too well, and you couldn't tell if she was OK or ill.
You were concerned.  I am pleased, by both your
behavior and your restraint.  The count now stands at
four."

She lowered her eyes, a pleased look in them.  She had
felt a little of Janey's ecstasy and was thankful that
she didn't have to share the whole force of the link,
given the restrictions of her servitude for the
evening.  She would have ridden the waves of her
daughter's orgasms to her own climaxes.  She knew the
punishment I had in mind would be severe, but she still
would not have been able to control herself.  Now she
could.

She moved to kneel between my legs, to assume her
position.  I stopped her and motioned for her to kneel
at the side of my chair on the kneeling bench.  I
grasped her by the braid in her hair and pulled gently,
until her head was upright.

"This is a special performance of your favorite pieces.
Enjoy."

I kept my hand on the back of her neck, but released
her braid from my grasp.  I mindlessly traced the edges
of the tight collar with the tips of my fingers, and
traced the patterns of the tiny hairs up and down her
neck.  I had been focusing on maintaining the mental
block for her, keeping Janey on edge, and listening to
the final preparations and opening remarks of the
concert.  I wasn't paying much attention to what I was
doing or to Sally until I felt the trembling and heard
the soft sob.

In a single move I settled Janey into her chair and was
on my knees in front of my lover.

"Sally, what's wrong?  Are you OK?  Talk to me!"

"Oh, Master!  I am not worthy of the attention you pay
me.  I have displeased you, and still you touch me with
gentleness and love.  I have earned my punishment and
your displeasure, not your tenderness."

"Ah.  Yes.  I need to make something clear to you," I
paused for effect, "slave."

Her head jerked up, the fear in her eyes visible.

Chapter 25

At the intermission, I turned Janey's stimulators down,
more so that she could help Sally to the Ladies Room
than to give her a break.  I fully intended for her to
be in a constant state of arousal for the remainder of
the evening.  It promised to be most entertaining, if
not exactly fulfilling for me.  I was beginning to get
a certain - some might say perverse - satisfaction from
the constant arousal in the two women.

They returned from the obligatory visit without
incident.  I indicated to Janey to bring a plate with a
selection of the refreshments from the buffet and a
single glass of champagne.  The food had been
artistically laid out by the Opera House staff prior to
our arrival.  Looking next at Sally, I simply pointed
to the kneeling bench.  Keeping her head bowed, she
moved gracefully to my side and knelt down.  I couldn't
help but notice her calm demeanor and that a satisfied
smile kept playing with the corners of her mouth.

I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to
meet mine.

"Are you happy, my love?"

"Oh, YES, Master!"

"That pleases me."  I smiled at her warmly.  Then, just
as I was releasing her chin, I quietly asked, "By the
way, how many times did you cum in the ladies room with
Janey?"  I had detected a more than faint odor of sex
wafting on her currents as she had come over to me.
The offhand question was rewarded with a look of sheer
panic on her face; that deer in the headlights look.
Caught!  She blushed a deep scarlet, and turned her
face from mine in shame.

"That's five, my love.  Do not make me give you more."

"Yes, Master."

I was silent for a moment, reflecting.  "Am I really,
Sally?

"Really what Master?"  She was confused by how I
addressed her with her name.  Normally, I use `my love'
to address her when she was a Sub.

"Your `Master'?"

She didn't answer for a while.  When she did it was
with her head bowed completely down, her chin resting
on her chest.  The jeweled collar must have been
choking her.

"To be completely honest, I don't know.  Sometimes,
when you are focused, you are my Master.  But other
times I sense you are unsure or defocused.  You try to
cover for your uncertainty by pretending this is not
serious.  When you are like that, then it is hard for
me to think of you as my Master.  Uncertainty is
dangerous in a Master.

"As much as I desire to do so, I cannot commit to you -
as  a slave - when you are unsure.  You know I am
committed to you as a lover, even as your future wife.
But I cannot commit myself, my will to you when..."
She looked me directly in the eye as she spoke that
last part.  She was not being cruel.  She was, in a
way, begging me to take this seriously, to be the total
Master she could commit to.

"Forgive me for speaking so openly, but you asked."

I was quiet, shamed by my own indecision.  I had sensed
the same things, but didn't know what to do.  No,
that's not true.  I did know.  I needed to take this
change in our relationship seriously, attack it the
same way I did a business problem.  Half the time I was
feeling my way, unsure of myself.  So I played it
light, like a game.  But this was not a game to her.  I
would have to get serious about this, and soon.

"Sally, thank you.  I confess I have been feeling the
same thing, but I didn't... No.  No excuses."  I
frowned at her, then made a decision.

"Slave!  Do not address me as `Master' until I am your
Master."  She looked up at me, startled at my use of
`slave' to address her.  "You may use `Sir' until
then."

She nodded.  She understood it was not an option.  She
also understood that I intended to become a true Master
to her.

"Yes, Ma... Sir.  Thank you for understanding."

I nodded curtly.  Taking the glass of champagne from
the side table where Janey had placed it, I offered my
lover a sip.  She drank gratefully.  I pointed to each
one of the selections of delicacies Janey had brought
over, one at a time.  She finally nodded her head at a
particularly small one.  I held it for her to bite and
she deftly nibbled at it until it was gone, then
cleaned my fingers with her tongue.  I grinned to
myself as I thought of how she had made a meal of that
tidbit.  I could have wolfed it down in one bite with
six others just like it.  Sally took another sip of
wine then refused all offers for more.

As the orchestra was still out, I leaned back, opened
the Velcro fly of my trousers and let the head of my
soft cock slip out.

"Slave, where is your place?" I asked her quietly.

Once again I saw a faint grin teasing her luscious lips
as she repositioned herself over my lap and swooped
down to claim her prize.

With Sally taken care of, momentarily, anyway, I turned
my attention to my `date.'  She had been taking
extraordinary pains to ignore Sally and me during our
little discussion, which clearly meant that she had
been watching and listening to everything.  To take her
mind off us, I cranked up all of her external
stimulators to full, even the one in her ass.  I also
activated the implanted neuro-chemical reservoirs in
her system to their lowest level, knowing that they
would release tiny amounts of the sexual enhancer into
her system.  She would now orgasm at the slightest
touch.  Hell, if she even thought about it, she would
cum.

I saw her blush as the sensations kicked in, then sag
slightly as the combination of the stimulators and the
chemicals pushed her over the edge almost immediately.
She wasn't going to climb back out of this for a while.
Wild-eyed, she staggered stiff-limbed back to her chair
beside me.  She sort of oozed into her seat, a puddle
of quivering teenaged flesh.  Her breathing was ragged.

"Comfy?" I asked her in a light tone.

She looked back up at me with a languid expression, her
eyes unfocused and her mouth open.  Her breath, when
she could catch it, was in short gasps; most
unladylike, but incredibly appealing.  I thought I
detected a slight nod in answer to my question, but it
could have been another spasm passing through her.

I tipped her head over onto my shoulder and sat back to
wait for the second half of the concert.  About a
minute later I felt a warm light touch on my leg.
Janey had put her hand there, right below her mother's
face.  As Janey climaxed, her hand squeezed my leg, and
gradually moved towards my iron shaft.  When her
fingertips finally grazed the velvety skin, she stopped
moving any closer.  She seemed content with just that
light contact.  Her sharp fingernails moved lazily
though my thatch of curly pubic hairs, digging in from
time to time as she crashed through another climax.

Her mother watched this from above, her mouth never
moving off of the head of my cock.  It must have been
strange for her, watching her daughter in the throes of
orgasm after orgasm and not being able to sense it.  I
still had the damper on their link, keeping their
sensations apart.

Even when the music started, Sally stayed in place.  I
didn't urge her away this time.  This part of the
program was not the composer's best work nor were they
Sally's favorites, and the conductor's interpretations
left me a little cold.  And to be honest, I don't think
any of us was paying much attention to the music.

Somehow, I managed to get both of them into the limo at
the end of the concert.  Janey's legs were a little
wobbly, but she pulled herself together to get through
the dwindling crowd.  She didn't talk to anyone and she
looked a bit flushed.  I held her close to me,
supporting her through the crowd.  She leaned heavily
until we stepped outside.  The cool night air seemed to
revive her.  Sally followed obediently behind me, as
ordered.

The limo driver moved smoothly up to the curb as we
emerged from the gaily-lit doors of the Opera House.
She hopped out and opened the rear door, timing it so
that we didn't even have to slow down.  Just down the
stairs and into the limo.  She was good.

As we settled into the rear seats, I felt my fly being
opened by two timid hands.  Since Sally was still bound
with her arms behind her, that could only mean that
Janey was doing some exploring.  I glanced at Sally,
who was just getting to her knees in front of me.  I
motioned with my head for her to get up and sit beside
me on the other side away from Janey.  She did so
without hesitation.

After Sally was seated, I put my arm around her
shoulders and pulled her into me.  I nuzzled my nose
into her hair and breathed in deeply.  I loved the
smell of her hair.  I brushed by lips softly along the
top of her head.  I hoped she wouldn't notice this
apparent weakness on my part, but I found it hard not
to express my love for her in `soft' ways.  I was still
learning, and hadn't yet realized it was the attitude,
not the action.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Sally accepted my
affectionate gesture.  She tucked her legs up under
her, and snuggled into my side.  I slipped my hand
through the opening of her cape and captured a firm
tit.  She turned her face to my chest.

"Please, Sir.  I will cum if you do that.  You know
that.  You are very skilled at arousing this slave.  I
cannot help myself.  Forgive my weakness."

I carefully captured the stiff nipple between my thumb
and forefinger.  I looked her right in the eye.

"Slave, you have my permission to cum three times
before we get home.  I will not stop playing with your
tits until we arrive, and I know just how sensitive
they are and how horny you are right now.  I will do my
utmost to make you cum as often as I can.  If you
succeed in limiting your pleasure to three climaxes,
you may choose your own punishment for your
indiscretions tonight.  You will receive only the five
strokes, which you will count aloud for me.  And then
thank me for.  If you do not succeed, the number will
be doubled, and I will choose the punishment."

She gasped as I squeezed her nipple hard as I ended.
It must have taken a supreme effort on her part to
stifle that orgasm, but she did not cum.  The driver
started the limo, and the vibrations from the road
added to her torment.  I teased the firm flesh in my
hand unmercifully.  Sally did not draw away from me or
resist my marauding hand.  She remained quiet, her
breathing very controlled.

Janey had begun her exploration of my now engorged
prick as I was dealing with her Mom.  Her hot little
hands grasped the base of shaft.  She could not
encircle it with one hand.

"Daddy?"  Her voice was small, much like I imagine it
was when she was six years old.  "Can I ask you
something?"

"Sure, Honey.  What do you want to know?"

"Are most guys this big?"  She lifted my swollen organ
in her tiny hands and waved it a little to indicate
what she was referring to.

I laughed quietly.  This was going to be an interesting
ride home.  "I'm not sure, but I don't think so.  But
the size of a man's penis is not really that important
between two people who love each other.  A man does not
need a big cock to bring pleasure to a woman."

"Does it hurt when you stick it in down there?"

"The first time a woman is penetrated usually hurts
her, at least a little.  But even after that, a small
one can hurt the woman if she isn't prepared or ready
or willing."

Janey had her own experience with that.  She knew it
could hurt, even a small one.  She was quiet, softly
stroking her fingers up and down.

"Some of the girls at school were talking about blow
jobs, putting their boyfriend's thingy in their mouth
and then sucking on it.  Is that what Mom has been
doing tonight?"

"Not exactly."  I eased off on my tit-torture of Sally
as I reflected on some of the great oral passions we
had experienced in the past.  "Your Mom and I had a bet
once that she could make me cum in a minute or less
just by holding the head of my cock in her mouth.  To
win the bet, she couldn't move, or suck, or hum or
anything.  Just hold it.  She was right and she won the
bet, the first time.  I won the second time.  I won't
bet with her like that again.  I'm afraid of what I
would lose next time."

I smiled down at my lover.  I placed a tender kiss on
her forehead.  She closed her eyes and a small tear of
happiness trickled down her cheek from the corner of
one eye.  Sally sighed as I attacked her sensitive
nipple once more, this time caressing it to its full
turgid height, then flicking it rapidly with the tip of
my finger.  I continued talking to Janey.

"Now, I have her do it that way, just holding the head
in her mouth, more as a reminder.  Giving a man oral
pleasure is one of the most intimate acts a woman can
do for a man.  The pleasure almost always goes just one
way with this act, from the woman to the man.  And the
very position the woman is in, kneeling, is a position
of servitude.  But other than that, it just feels great
to have her mouth there."

"Do you ever let her move, I mean, does she still give
you blow jobs?"

"Janey, you should know by now, I don't `let' you
mother do anything.  She does whatever she wants,
whenever she wants, and I willingly accept her gifts to
me.  By the way, I also have pretty much the same
freedom with her, to do what I want, when I want.  And
she accepts the pleasures I give her.  She even
accepted my proposal of marriage, eventually.

"So the answer to your question is, `Yes' she still
does pleasure me orally.  And I do the same for her,
too."

"You mean you put your mouth down there, on her?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow!  Doesn't that tickle?"

"Not too much.  I trimmed her pussy hair back out of
the way so that I..."

"Not you, silly.  Her!  Doesn't it tickle her?"

"OH!  Well, exc-u-u-use me."  We both laughed.  "Well,
I don't think so, but I really don't know.  You'll have
to ask her.  Later.  But I do know she never laughed
while I was eating her pussy, at least not out loud.
She moans a lot, but no laughter."

She was quiet for a bit.  Then, "Is Mom a good cock-
sucker?  Is that the right name for it?"

I chuckled.  What a loaded question!  How did women
always manage to ask questions that made you compare
them to each other?  I was just about ready to answer
her, truthfully, when Janey interrupted.  She had
sensed my quandary.

"I'm sorry, Daddy.  I'll rephrase the question.  Do you
like the way Mom gives head?  Does she have a good
technique?"

This time I laughed aloud.  "First, the name `cock-
sucker' has kind of a bad taste to it.  I wouldn't call
you or her that, no matter what.  Second, your Mom is
the absolute best, not that I have that much to compare
it to."  I felt Sally shaking as I held her.  She was
laughing, not having an orgasm.

"Third, it is not her technique that makes her the
best, although she is fantastic that way too.  What
makes your Mom so special is her attitude.  She wants
to give me pleasure that way.  It is her gift.  I have
never asked her to do it."

My voice kind of tapered off at the end.  Suddenly, a
light went off in my head.  Attitude, not actions.
Attitude, not techniques.  I needed a fucking attitude
adjustment.  Fast.

Janey was thinking about what I had said, too.  As she
was thinking, her head lowered toward my prick.  She
continued her inspection from point-blank range.  Her
inquisitive fingers pressed against the spongy head.  A
clear drop of pre-cum grew at the slit at the top.

"What does it taste like, you know, that stuff that
spurts out?"

"I, uh, I don't know."

"Didn't you, you know, that time in the dungeon?"

"No."  I cast about for a way to continue, "I failed my
Mistress that time."

She looked up at me, her face a question mark.  I
explained my comment to her.

"When I was in the dungeon, I gave myself, gave over my
will, totally to your Mom.  It was the only way I could
endure what was going on inside my head.  Understand
that I did what I did willingly.  And I would do it
again, if she asked me to.  But in my mind, when I was
in the dungeon, I came to think of her as `Mistress,'
my owner.  I still think of her in that way when I
remember what happened.  She is my Mistress even now,
in many ways.

"When I was in the dungeon, at the end, I only tasted
the clear discharge a man makes at the beginning, the
pre-cum, at that time.  All I can tell you about that
stuff is that it tasted `slippery', salty.  But
sometimes, after your Mom takes me in her mouth, we
will kiss, and I can detect a different taste that I
assume is a little of what I taste like.  It isn't
awful or foul tasting or anything, but it is different.
Tangy, I guess."

"Oh.  You don't like to talk about that time she did
all that stuff, do you?"

"It's OK, Honey.  I'm just not exactly sure what
happened or how I feel about it sometimes.  I do know
that a lot of good changes came out of that
experience."

"So, am I supposed to swallow that white stuff?  Some
of the girls thought that would be gross, but they
hadn't done it, so they didn't know.  Doesn't a guy pee
out that hole, too?"

I played with the loose hairs on the back of her neck,
careful to not put any downward pressure on her head.
"Janey, Honey, you're not even supposed to have a cock
in your mouth unless you want it there.  It should
always be your choice.  Never let a guy try to tell you
he will be injured if he doesn't get relief.  It
doesn't work that way.

"Second, it's up to you what you do with it.  Spit or
swallow.  It's your choice."

"What does Mom do?"

"Does it matter?"

She thought about that.

"No.  Not really."

That seemed to be the end of her questions as she was
silent for the rest of the ride.  A lot of the content
she had already heard from her Mom in their many talks.
I know Sally had been very thorough and more explicit
than I thought necessary.

I don't know if Janey just wanted a second opinion or a
man's perspective.  Sally and I agreed in our approach
to sex and relationships in terms of giving and not
taking, of it being a shared experience, not one
forcing or coercing the other.  I felt confident I had
not contradicted anything Sally may have told her.

Janey seemed content to hold and fondle my cock,
gaining a sense of its size, hardness, and strength.
One time she leaned forward and touched the tip of her
dainty tongue to the drop of pre-cum that had collected
at the pee-slit.  After she had tasted that, she leaned
her head back on my stomach, apparently deep in
thought.  I felt her shudder as the stimulators pushed
her over the edge of one climax after the other with
regularity.  I was amazed she had been able to hold a
coherent conversation with all that shakin' going on.

We rode the rest of the way home without incident, in
silence.

We disembarked from the limo, and I walked Janey to the
front door.  As this was still our first `date,' I took
her in my arms and gave her a good night kiss on the
porch in front of Sally.  Janey returned the kiss and
sucked in my tongue greedily.  That simple good night
kiss ended up leaving us both a little breathless.  Her
enthusiasm was highly erotic.

I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and turned her
stimulators off.  She gave a little whimper.

"Well, I guess the date is over.  Right, Dad?"  She
almost sounded disappointed.

"Yes."

She gave me another big hug.  "Thank you.  I had a good
time.  You made me feel very special tonight.  Good
night!"

With that, she gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and
let herself into the house.  The door shut, leaving
Sally and me standing in the cool night air.  I turned
to Sally.

"So, slave.  How many times did you cum on the way
home?  I didn't feel any.  Am I loosing my touch?"

She looked up at me, trembling.  "None, Sir.  But I had
cum three times in the ladies room with Janey without
your permission.  How did you know, Sir?"

It had been a damn lucky guess.  I just smiled a
knowing smile at her.  I think I almost fooled her.

"Anyway, since I had cum three times and you allowed me
three, I figured I couldn't allow myself any more,
Sir."

I was not pleased with her response, but I had promised
her that she could choose her punishment.  I was in
unfamiliar territory, and I think I overplayed the part
a bit.  It didn't feel natural, but it was what I
thought a displeased master would act like.  I was
wrong.

I reached out to the clasps of her cape.  I undid them
roughly, one by one, and jerked the cape off her
shoulders, exposing her naked body to the night air.
The nearest neighbor was 2 miles away, and the porch
was secluded.  But it was still a shock to her to be
exposed outside of the house, outdoors.  I towered over
her, backing her up against the front door.  My eyes
were angry, and my tone harsh.

"First, slave, you don't think.  You don't figure.  You
do what I tell you, and only that.  I gave you
permission to come three times in the car.  You missed
out on that pleasure, slave.  I already knew you had
cum without permission and you are going to be punished
for that.

"Second, by refusing to cum for me, you took away from
me the pleasure of pleasuring you, of bringing you to a
sweet release.  You resisted my touches, you ignored my
commands, my caresses, squeezes and pinches.  If you do
not wish my tender touches, you will get painful ones
instead.

"Third," and I softened, considerably, "I love you.
Deeply.  Totally.  For ever and ever."  I kissed her
trembling lips.  I wanted to ravish her then and there,
to fuck her on the porch.  It was one of the few places
in her house we hadn't done it.  But her fear was a
good indication it probably wasn't a good time.  She
wasn't the only one frightened.  We were on the
threshold of a new darkness.  I didn't know if the
darkness contained an abyss or if it was just another
room in the house of our relationship.  I took her in
my arms as I continued.

"Slave, my love, I promised you a punishment.  I also
promised you that you could choose it.  Here is the key
to the dungeon.  Go get something for me to use, then
come back to the bedroom and we will continue."

I turned her around and set her arms free.  She would
need them to get into the dungeon.  We stood still for
a while as I massaged some feeling back into her stiff
upper limbs.  When she was able to roll her shoulders
without grunting in pain, I opened the door and gave
her fanny a good smack to get her moving.  She
literally ran into the house in her high heels, and all
the way to the basement.  I thought I heard a sob a she
turned the first corner and went out of sight, but I
couldn't tell.

I made my way to our room, lost in thought.  I was
confused, overwhelmed by the events of the evening with
Sally.  They hadn't gone the way I had anticipated.  I
was sitting on the edge of the bed when Janey called
out from the hallway.

"Dad, the date is officially over, right?"

"Yes, Honey.  We said `Good Night' and everything.  Why
do you ask?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to give you the impression I do
this on a `first' date."

With that, she slid, - oozed is a better term - around
the corner and into our bedroom.  She had removed her
cocktail dress and her bra, leaving her in just the
wispy panties.  She still had on the heels as well.  My
prick hardened at the sight of her.  I took in her
swaying breasts as she walked towards the bed.  I
noticed she was staring at my crotch and that she was
licking her lips hungrily.  Something made me stifle
any protest I should have made.

"Janey, Honey, I hope you never dress like that on any
date, other than your wedding night!"

She giggled and shimmied her young tits at me as she
came over.  "Get real, Dad."

I hoped she was joking.  What she did next made me
think she wasn't.

She knelt down in front of my feet.  She placed her
hands on my knees and spread them, making room for her
to shuffle in closer.  I could feel the scalding heat
of her breasts as they pressed into my inner thighs.
Her stiffened nipples felt as if they would rip the
fabric of my slacks.

She deftly opened my fly with a quick tug.  My iron
hard prick sprang out, almost hitting her in the face.
Without a word, without hesitation, she opened her
mouth wide and swallowed as much of that iron shaft as
she could.

Like most beginners, she tried to take too much too
soon.  Unlike most beginners, Janey had never accepted
failure in anything she tried to do.  Her second
attempt to swallow the thick shaft was even more
determined.  I felt the spongy head of my prick nudging
against her tonsils.  Again she gagged.  And again she
came back for more.  Six times she tried to swallow me
whole.  On the seventh, she did.

And she dug her fingernails sharply into the cloth
covering my thighs.  She reared back her head, gasping
and shaking.  Janey had just discovered one of the more
deviously placed pressure sensitive implants the Rosens
had put in.  Thank God, she hadn't had a hold on my
balls.

"Dad!  What in the hell was that?"  She was shaken, but
definitely not displeased at her discovery.

"That's a little gift from the Drs. Rosen.  They told
me about it after they were already in.  They thought
you might enjoy it after they saw the length and size
of my equipment."

"Wow!"  She caught her breath a minute.  "So, how am I
doing so far, Dad?"

"Janey, you're doing fine.  Outstanding, actually.  But
remember, it's the attitude, not the technique.  Just
watch the teeth.  I admit you are the first person to
ever get that much of my prick in their mouth and down
their throat.  Not even your Mom had taken that much.
But don't tell her, OK?  This isn't a competition.  Not
that I wouldn't mind..."

"Oh, Daddy!"  She giggled as she re-captured the fat
ruddy head in her mouth.  As she began to bob up and
down, taking more of the shaft inside with each
downward stroke, I realized this was the actualization
of a major fantasy for me.  I thought she should know.

"Janey, no, don't stop.  Just listen.  When you Mom
first proposed that I be a part of your, uh, sexual
education, I immediately got this mental picture in my
head.  It was so erotic that I got an erection at a
very inappropriate moment and your Mom almost called
the whole thing off.  She almost kicked me out of the
house, for good.  Fortunately, she didn't.

"Janey, the picture that came to my mind was exactly
this:  You, naked, or nearly so, between my legs,
sucking on my cock.  You were looking up at me, - Oh,
God, Yeah, Honey, just like that - and you moved your
head up and down the length of my hard shaft.  It was
erotic then, but it is nothing compared to the real
thing.  OH SHIT, BABY!  I'M CUMMING!"

I thrust my hips forward, burying my cock head deep
into her elastic throat.  I spasmed once, twice, three,
four, five times.  A large gob of pearly white semen
surged into her esophagus with each butt-clenching
throb.  Spent, I sagged back on the bed.

She continued sucking on me until she had the last
drop.  Then, sliding her breasts up my body, she
brought her face up to meet mine.  She pressed her lips
against my sealed lips.  I knew what she had in mind.
I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers.  She
was not demanding I kiss her, only offering me the
opportunity.  I don't know why, but I kissed her,
opening my mouth to hers.

I felt a stringy substance pass from her mouth to mine
as she bathed my mouth with her tongue.  I tasted
myself fully for the first time and didn't gag.  It
would have ruined the moment.

Janey then proceeded to swab my tonsils and mouth with
her tongue, removing as much of the transferred jism as
she could.  She pushed herself up on her hands, moving
away from my face.  She made a big show of swallowing
the contents of her mouth.  I collapsed back onto bed.
I felt her slip my pecker back into my pants and then
close the fly.

"Bye, lover," she lilted.

"Bye, sweets.  Thank you for your gift.  Next time it's
your turn."

Her eyes widened at the thought of me eating her out.
"Now?" came hopefully

"No.  Next time.  I'll let you know, don't worry."

She had a pleased smile on her face as she slipped out
of the room and made her way back down the hall to her
own.  Something other than my cum had passed between us
just then.  An understanding of sorts.

I was still smiling contentedly when Sally slipped
silently back into the room.

That smile froze in place as she handed me a short,
stiff crop.  I recognized it as the one from Amud's
shop.  This one could really hurt.  I had tried it out
against my leg once and the stripe had lasted more than
a week, almost as long as my howling did.

But even as her choice of the implement for her
punishment chilled me, her next movements numbed me to
the bone.  She moved silently and surely over to her
makeup table and picked up the backless bench she sat
on when she did her makeup.  She moved the bench to the
center of the room.

She knelt with her back to the bench and bent backward
over the bench.  She reached under the bench with her
arms and grasped her ankles with her hands.  She was
bowed backward over the bench, tense.  Her breasts were
presented in a most alluring fashion.  Had I not had a
whip in my hand, I would have taken this as an
invitation to tit-fuck her.  Even with the whip I
considered it seriously.

As it was, I was trembling.  I hadn't been this shaky-
shit scared since I drove my Dad's car into the lake.

This was it.  I raised my arm and took a trial swing in
the air.  The sounds of the stiff leather whistling
through the air terrified me, and I was the one holding
the crop!  All I could think of was how much this would
hurt my lover.  It was not so much that I might hurt
her, I knew it would do that.  It was that I might
injure her, do damage.  I could not bear to mark her
lovely skin.  I was torn.  I could not bring myself to
do this.  But I had promised.

I didn't say a word as I stood up and moved to one
side.  I didn't' trust myself to speak.  Sally had her
eyes closed, which was just as well, as I was crying
like a baby.  I made a tentative swat at her upthrust
mounds, her chosen targets for this pain.  The sound of
the crop slapping against that tender flesh sounded
like a cannon going off in my head.  I almost dropped
the crop and ran.  But something was sneaking around in
the back of my head.  I thought I sensed something from
her at the exact moment the crop touched her, but I
wasn't sure.  It was like it came through the crop,
talking to me.  Sally had said nothing.  She didn't
even flinch.

I swatted again.  Again half-heartedly.  Two down,
three to go.  I thought I just might make it through
this without killing her.  Then I realized she wasn't'
counting the strokes like I had told her to.  In
frustration, I cried out at her,

"You're supposed to be counting, Damn it!"

She replied in a calm voice.  "I will count if you ever
strike me, Sir."  And then she braced herself, waiting
for what she must have known was going to happen.  She
was trying to make me mad, taunting my weakness.  She
almost succeeded.

I dropped the tip of the trembling crop so that it just
touched her flesh.  It wasn't a blow, the end was just
resting on her.  But the effect on me was electrifying.
Suddenly, it was as if I could sense her thoughts.  But
they weren't really thoughts.  It was more as if I
could sense her needs, her cravings.  I understood she
needed to be disciplined.  By me.  By her master.  Not
because she was bad.  But because I loved her and she
had displeased me.  Whatever it was that I felt, it
also let me know just how hard to bring the crop down.
I could sense what she needed, how much pain, and
where.  It was as if we were one.

I went with the feelings, followed the ethereal
urgings.  I never knew I raised my arm.  The crop came
down.  Thunder exploded in the silence of the room.  It
was louder than the gunshot when she had dropped my gun
on the bed.  The flaming red welt it left crossed the
tops of both breasts on the soft fleshy middle part.

"One.  Thank you, Sir."  How she managed not to shout,
scream, yell, or holler, I don't know.

CRACK!!

"Two.  Thank you, Sir."

Swoosh.  CRACK!!

"OH!  Three!  Th-thank you, Sir."

SwooshCRACK!!

There was a sharp intake of breath this time.  I let
the tip of the crop rest on her chest, feeling her
pain, her exhilaration, her neediness for this.

"F-f-ffffour... Thank you.  M-m-mas, S-Sir!"

I let her steel herself for the final blow.  I sensed
from within her that she knew this one would be the
worst, the culmination of all the preceding blows.  It
was what she needed

When I sensed she was ready, I released my arm to the
essence that we had become.  I know I was the one
holding and moving the whip, but it was as if someone
or something else was guiding it, aiming it, and
applying the right amount of force.  I watched,
fascinated, as the crop whistled down and landed,
bisecting the other four.  Two of them had landed above
her erect nipples.  That they were erect, fully
aroused, struck me as odd.  The other two welts were
spaced evenly below her turgid nipples.  The fifth blow
landed directly over those sensitive buds of flesh.
She arched her back even tighter than it was in the
position she was in.

"FIVE!  OH, MY MASTER!" she shouted and fainted dead
away.

I rushed to her and picked up my lover, her limp form
draping over my arms, tears streaming down my face.
Her head and feet hung down on either side.  Without
banging her head on the door, I carefully rushed her
into the bathroom and eased her down into the large
bathtub.  I climbed in behind her, supporting her head
on my shoulder.  I started the water with my feet, set
the temperature at just shy of scalding, and let the
tub fill around us.

The hot water diluted the flood of my tears as I rocked
and crooned to my love, swaying gently back and forth
as one would with a sick or injured child.  I felt as
if my heart were breaking.  The discipline, the pain
she had just accepted far outweighed anything she had
done to displease me.  I had been insensitive to her
needs.  I had not taken my responsibilities seriously
and I now had injured her.

I looked down through my tears and saw the angry welts
that striped her ivory flesh.  I attempted to cup them,
to massage the pain away, but I couldn't bring myself
to even caress that sore flesh.  I settled for cupping
my hand around them, almost but not touching, sensing
the aura of them.  I sensed pain, aching, and,
surprisingly, relief.

The water rose over our bodies and the automatic
shutoff stopped the flow of water into the tub.  Her
sore tits were submerged, and floated softly in the
steamy water.  We lay like that for sometime, allowing
the scalding water to soak the pain from her skin.  Her
breathing evened out, no longer catching in small gasps
and sobs.  Finally, after an eternity, I felt her stir.

Her first action was to check to see if her collar was
still on.  Her hand slowly rose, at first I thought to
check her breasts.  But her hand kept rising, until her
fingertips lightly caressed the symbol of her
servitude.  In all that went on, I had not even thought
of taking off the collar.  She moved her arms slowly,
as if it hurt to move.  I could well imagine it would.
As she ran her fingers lightly over the sparking
necklace, I could feel her contentment grow.

She continued to lay there, her back to my chest.  I
cannot describe what happened during that time, but I
think we became more one than we were two.  Our
brainwaves synched, something.  Her deep contentment
spilled over onto me.  She wouldn't let me feel guilt
anymore.  What I had done was my right as her Master.

I didn't pretend to understand.  And, typical of a
woman, just as I was feeling as if I understood what
was going on, she shocked me again.

"I've made you ruin your suit, Master."

"Ssshhh.  Quiet.  It's OK."  Huh?  Where in the Hell
did that come from?  My suit?  I couldn't have cared
less.  I had just about ripped her tits off, and she's
worried about my suit!

She was quiet for a while, then, in almost a whisper.
"Thank you, Master."

Feeling is one thing, hearing it is another.  Her
obvious gratitude was too much for me.  I burst out
crying, sobbing into the back of her hair.  She let me
cry myself out.

"Master, may I speak freely?"

"Yes, my love.  You know you can always speak freely to
me."

She took a deep breath to steady herself and then
plunged into a long lecture.  I listened.

"Master, I am sorry, but I had to make you hurt me like
that.  I did it on purpose.  I knew that if I didn't
force you to do it, you would never do that to me, to
whip my tits.  You are so careful with me and I know
you adore them.  I adore your adoration of them.  So I
choose for you to hurt me there.  That is what took me
so long in the dungeon.  I was not looking forward to
the pain of being tit-whipped with a crop.  I had to
build up my courage to force you to go through with
this.

"I also tried to make you angry with me, to make you
strike me in anger.  I was kind of angry with you,
Master.  You were not being serious with me.  You acted
as if we were playing a game.  So I intentionally
taunted you.  I was trying to make you mad.

"If you had struck me in anger, then I would have had a
reason to never submit myself to you again, ever.  I
understood that it would have meant we would eventually
be torn apart, as I have this need to submit to my
Master.  I don't know what it is, but it is a part of
me, just as eating or breathing.  I don't need it all
the time, just occasionally.  But it is there,
nonetheless.

"Master, you must never let a slave, this slave
especially, choose the punishment.  For me, your
displeasure, even in jest, is too much for me to bear.
This slave lives to serve you, for your pleasure alone.
Because I had displeased you so greatly, well, that was
another reason I had to choose the worst punishment I
could imagine for myself.  I felt as if I deserved that
and more.  I thought about what you said on the porch,
when you were angry with me.  I thought at first you
were not being serious again, but there was something
else there, too.  Like you were trying too hard to be
what you thought I would think a Master would be.  And
what you said, about me stealing your pleasure from you
by resisting your arousing touches; that was more true
than I think you knew.  I almost decided to end this
evening, until I remembered you said that.  It showed
me that you grasped at least some of the basics, that
down deep, you just might understand what this was
about.  I heard what you said to Janey about your time
in the dungeon, about submitting to my will.

"Master, when I am your slave that is exactly how I am.
I am yours completely.  If you treat that lightly, I
will be ... I am crushed.  I would rather be
humiliated, stripped in public, made to perform like an
animal, with an animal, even, than be brushed off
lightly.

"Master, to be my Master, you do not have to put on an
act.  Just be who you are.  Be sure of what you are.  I
crave your demands on me, I long to do what you
command.  But you can still love me as you are
accustomed to doing.  I adore your touch, whether
tender or harsh.  I need them both.  Your sweet
caresses are so honest, so pure that they melt my
heart.  Your firm hand in disciplining me just now
fires my blood.  I have never felt so alive.

"Yes, it hurts, but only for the moment.  For certain
it hurts less than an angry or careless word from you,
and for not nearly as long.  I will wear these stripes
proudly.  I earned them, and, more important, they are
from my master's hand.

"If you allow it, I wish to show them to Bala on their
visit the day after tomorrow.  Not to make her jealous,
though secretly she will be, but because I am proud of
what you are becoming.  She had a crush on you, I
think, Master.  She is very happy with Amud, but your
raw power thrills a part of her he cannot touch.

"Master, oh, my Master!  I had it all carefully planned
out.  Forgive this slave for being so presumptuous.  I
know you told me not to think, but I wanted so much for
this to be real for us.  I wanted to give you one more
chance.  And then something happened...

"Master?  What happened to you?  To us?  I taunted you,
I felt your sudden anger, and then, all of a sudden,
you were in me, in my mind.  You filled me, possessed
me as no one ever has.  You knew what I needed, you
understood.  I felt the fear flow out of me and out of
you, too.  I am sorry I made you afraid.  Master, were
you afraid for me?  That I would be hurt?  That would
be just like you, you know.  You are so gentle and
kind.

"And then I felt your strength, your tremendous power,
your goodness.  I felt you release yourself, to let
your fear go.  Did you feel it, too?

"And then you whipped me, Master.  Oh, Master, it was
wonderful!  I could feel your love beating into me with
each searing stroke of the crop.  Did you know I came
each time you whipped me?  Especially the last one.
Forgive me, again, but I have never experienced orgasms
like that.  Perhaps one day you will explain all of the
places the good doctors hid their wonderful little
toys.  You did not give me permission to cum, Master.
Perhaps you should punish me again?"

She steeled herself, I could feel her resolve, and then
she raised herself up and away from my chest.  With a
grace that would make a Polar bear envious, she rolled
over so that we were facing each other.  Without a
splash.  She pulled her knees up under her and
positioned her legs between mine.

With sure hands, she loosened the wet cloth of my fly,
and dug out the flaccid length of my cock.  She took a
deep breath and immersed her face, sucking the entire
length into her mouth.  Her gentle ministrations
produced the predictable effect and the swelling,
lengthening shaft eventually forced her face out of the
water.  She continued bobbing on the shaft, until it
had reached its full hardness.

Sally then rose up slightly, lifting her head to look
me directly in the eye.  We locked gazes.  She held my
eyes as if in a vice as she took her own hands and
cupped her injured breasts.  I felt the searing pains
she felt as she forced my fierce hardness between her
pliant orbs and gave me the tit-fucking I had thought
about earlier.

"How?  How did you know I was thinking about doing this
to you?"

She smiled that vague, mysterious smile women have.
Then she let me off the hook.

"I was peeking.  I watched you in the mirror.  This was
really hard on you, wasn't it?"

I nodded, shamed by her tenderness.

"Poor baby.  Let Mommy make it all better..."  She
tipped her head down and lightly kissed the head of my
cock on the upstroke through her tit-meat.  When she
looked back at me, she was serious again.  The love
light never left her eyes as she moved her hands,
forcing her striped tits up and down around her
master's staff.

Our eyes never left the others' as she gave me this
tender, painful gift, the gift of a slave to her
master.  To refuse her would have been to crush her
needlessly.

I let myself go, released myself into her gift.  I
reached out, thinking I could ease the searing pain in
her breasts.  But when I sensed her, I found that she
was reveling in her pain, her badge of honor.  So
instead of taking, I gave to her. I let her feel my
pride in her, of my gratitude for her love, for the
acknowledgement of the lesson she had taught me.  I let
her feel the depth of my sorrow, and she drew it out
and away from me.  She allowed me no sorrow, no regrets
for her pain.

When I came, she caught my essence in her mouth,
covering the spewing cap, sealing the leaks with her
ruby lips.

Before she could swallow it all, I lifted her up to me
and kissed her fiercely on the mouth.  Her eyes opened
in surprise as I shared the remainder of my cum with
her, savoring and then swallowing for the first time
the strange-tasting substance.  Her single raised
eyebrow queried me for a reason for this sudden change.
I just smiled at her and kissed her again, softly.

We lay together like that for a long time, finally
emerging with prune-like wrinkles all over.

Sally insisted on wearing her collar to bed that night.
For a slave, she was very demanding sexually, more so
than when she was not subservient.  She was not
satisfied until I had cum into every orifice, crevice,
crack and cavity of her body.  She discovered the same
implants deep in her throat that Janey had discovered
earlier in the evening.  She found others even I hadn't
known about.  At least, I think they were implants.
Might it have been love?  When she was covered from her
perky nose to her sexy toes in a sticky coat of my cum,
only then did she lie quietly beside me.

I listened to her rhythmic breathing, wondering at this
intricate woman and the direction our lives were now
headed.  I wondered at the unknown destination, as
well.  I felt as if we had crossed a major hurdle
tonight, but I knew that several more remained.  My
mind, although relaxed, went over and over the events
that had brought us to this point, reviewing and
remembering.  I don't remember falling asleep.

We slept late, well into the next afternoon.

Chapter 26

I woke up slowly the next morning to the soft whispers
between a mother and daughter.  It had been a taxing
night, both physically and mentally.  My head still
felt as if it was a sheep turned inside out, so I
decided to just lie there with my eyes closed.  I
drifted in and out of consciousness as the two women in
my life shared confidences.  I didn't feel as if I was
eavesdropping, as they knew I was lying right there
between them.

I cracked one eye and peeked out at the cruel, bright
world.  Sally and Janey were both kneeling at about
where my knees were.  They were facing each other,
holding hands across my legs in an almost romantic
gesture.  Two blonde goddesses, and nude, except for a
skimpy bikini bottom on Janey.

I reached out with my newly discovered mental talent
and tried to sense the moods of the two.  I didn't want
to be crude or heavy-handed and barge right in.  I just
tried to get as close to them as I could.  It took a
great effort to use a soft touch.  Heavy-handed is
easier.  Shoot first, the Hell with the questions.
Gradually, I was able to feel that Sally was very
content.  I wasn't sure, though, as it was like tasting
colors.  I was still trying to learn what meant what.
What I thought she felt, though, was contentment.

Janey's picture, or aura, was more turbulent, with
brighter, hungrier colors; nothing serious that I could
sense, but somewhat unfulfilled.  After the unrequited
arousal she had gone through last night, I assumed she
was just horny.  I was surprised she hadn't used her
fingers or something phallic on herself, but somehow I
knew she hadn't.  She continued to talk to her Mom.
Sally, I think, had sensed that I was awake by now,
although I hadn't touched her mind, or moved.  There
was so much I had to learn about this stuff.  Too, she
was an incredibly perceptive woman.

"You're still wearing the collar.  Wouldn't he let you
take it off?"

"It was the other way around.  I wouldn't let him
remove it."

"Doesn't it bother you?  It looks kind of tight."

"No.  I don't mind.  In fact, I want to wear it all the
time now.  Last night was, well, last night he became
my Master.  Janey, I don't know if you will ever
understand, but if you could only have one thing in
life, my wish for you, with all my heart, is that you
find that one special man.  That guy you can love as I
love my Master.  When it all comes down to the bottom
line in life, nothing else matters.

"Didn't he beat you last night?"  I could sense Janey
was really uncomfortable about what had happened.  The
last time her mother had gotten involved in this stuff,
it had just about destroyed both of them.

"Janey, shame on you!  You know what happened.  You
heard it, and you sensed it.  You enjoyed it, too, if I
remember right.  No?"

"Well, yeah, kind of.  But those look like they would
really hurt.  Would you let him do it again?"

"No.  I would not `let' him.  I would, no I will, beg
him to do it again, though.  As often as he desires."

"Why?"

"Because he is my Master.  I am his, to love, to whip,
even to sell, if he desires."

"You're not serious.  Sell?"

"Yes, he has that option.  But if I know my Master, he
would not even consider that.  He would die first."

"Did he enjoy punishing you?  I mean, did he get a, you
know, a, uh..."

"Hard-on?  Woody?  Stiffy?  Erection?"

"Yeah.  One of those."

"Janey.  Get used to seeing it.  Get used to talking
about sex, too.  It's going to be a big part of our
lives, yours included.  I don't know what he has
planned for you, but I trust him with you, that he will
do the right thing.  He is so tender and sweet.  He was
like a little boy last night who thought he had
accidentally hurt his new puppy.  He cried.  He is
trying so hard to please me.  I kind of made him
squirm.

"But the answer to your question is `No,' he didn't get
excited when he was punishing me.  He only got hard
when I took him in my mouth.  I just about drowned
doing it, too."  She looked hard at Janey.  "By the
way, you wouldn't have had anything to do with him
being soft, would you?  I thought I tasted something
strange on him."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?  Did he fuck you?  It didn't quite taste
like that."

"If he didn't tell you, maybe he doesn't want you to
know."

"Janey, I'm your mother.  Besides, we don't talk about
you all the time, you know.  Now tell me what
happened."

"Well, when you were downstairs, I came in and, well,
did him."

"Did him how?"

"With my mouth.  Well, my mouth and a lot of my
throat."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  Those doctors put one of those gizmos down
there too, did you know that?  It took me by surprise,
but I really didn't mind.  In fact, I kept that fat
part (the head?) down there almost the whole time,
after that.  Could you really tell just from the
taste?"

"You bet I could tell.  He's my man.  Don't you ever
forget it.  Mine!  You can borrow him from time to
time, but he is mine.  And yes, I found out about that
one last night, too.  My Master has a real soft streak
in him.  Soft, but twisted!  Do you know he had them
put them in my tits, too.  I came so hard last night
when he hit me there that I passed out.  I know they
are around my asshole.  He probably had them put them
all over the place.  I'm beginning to wonder if there
is any place he can touch us, fuck us or hit us where
we won't enjoy it.  So did you like taking him in your
mouth, other than that?"

"Uh-huh.  I even swallowed his, uh, stuff.  And I
kissed him after and shared it with him, too.  I don't
think he was sure about doing that, letting his own
stuff into his mouth, but he did it.  It made me feel
special when he did that, you know?  That he would do
something I asked him to do even though he didn't want
to."

Sally laughed quietly.  "Oh, now it makes sense.  He
did the same thing with me, later.  He kissed me while
I still had some of his cum in my mouth.  He really
sucked hard and I couldn't keep it from him.  I
couldn't figure out why he did that.  He'd never done
that before.  Now I know.  He must have sensed how
special it made you feel and wanted me to feel the same
way."

They sat there quietly for a while.  Then Janey got
down to the real question.

"Mom, what does it feel like, really?  I mean, I could
tell when you had an orgasm, and when you were afraid,
just at the beginning, and stuff.  But, what did it do
to you?  All that pain!  And right there, too.  I, uh,
I tried it a little myself last night, I hit myself
with my school ruler, and all it did was hurt.  What
did I do wrong?  Does he do something special?  But,
really, Mom, how could you stand it?"

"I noticed the stripes and meant to ask you about them.
I was almost wondering if Larry did that, but I
couldn't believe he would.  Don't do that again, OK?
Not by yourself or until you're sure that's what you
want.  It isn't the same.  I know because I tried to do
myself too after I kicked Gary out.  I don't know if I
can tell you what it feels like.  You almost have to go
through it yourself to know.  But I'll try, OK?

"First, my Master is becoming a very powerful Master.
He can `see' things.  Better than you and I link up,
too.  I can sense him a little, but he seems to be able
to reach out and take me over completely.  I don't
think he really knows yet what's going on.  It kind of
scares him, this new power.  I think it surprised him a
little last night.  It may have been the first time he
intentionally experienced it.  But whatever, it was
like he was hooked up to my brain when he touched the
end of the crop to me.

"I don't think he knows it, but after the first couple
of lame attempts to strike me, he rested just the tip
of the riding crop against my stomach.  Then he just
stood there for what seemed like about 30 minutes.  I
was beginning to be concerned for him, that he was
having a fit, or something, and suddenly I felt him in
me, inside me, in my head.  It was like he was getting
to know me, what he could do to me, just how far to
push, how hard to hit.  He was very careful to make me
feel safe.  I miss him being in there now.

"Second, I had displeased my Master.  He made an error
in letting me choose my punishment, but he made it
right later.  I don't know what the actual whipping did
to me.  I remember the pain.  I also remember being
turned on even more.  I was incredibly, powerfully
aroused.  I made him fuck my tits in the bathtub
afterwards.  I think that hurt him more than it did me,
and I just about passed out from the pain.  But I was
so turned on.  I still am.  I wish he would open his
eyes so we could fuck some more."

"Geeze, Mom!  Didn't you get enough last night?  When
are you two going to act your age?  I couldn't get to
sleep with all that racket, not to mention having to
feel your orgasms, too.  What were there, ten, twenty?"

As Sally had talked about how horny she still was, I
`knocked' on the door of her mind, letting her know I
was awake.  She moved down and lay beside me on her
side her breasts nestled into my side.  She pulled the
sheet up over her.  I could feel her waiting, quivering
in anticipation of my command.

In response to Janey's last question, all I heard from
Sally was a purring, like a contented kitten.  That low
pitched sound struck a nerve, an erotic one to boot.  I
didn't think I had another erection in me, Dr. Wang's
operation or no.  But that contented purring continued
and I was at full mast, tenting the silk top sheet.

"Uh, Mom?  Uh, I think Daddy's, uh, `up'."

"Oh, goody!"

With that, we erupted in giggles and guffaws, until
another hot body wiggled under the sheet and I felt a
warm moist mouth slide over the top and down the shaft
of my penis.

"Hey, go find your own.  This one's mine!"

Janey raised herself up off my cock.  "But I need the
practice.  Besides, you had enough last night.  You
won't admit it, but he outlasted you, not the other way
around."  An impish grin showed itself from under the
sheet.  "How's it feel, huh?  Must be the first time
you got everything you needed, huh?"

She dove back down on my prick, now slippery with her
saliva.  Then, "Mmmmm, good!  You guys taste kind of
good together."

I turned my head and opened my eyes to look at my love.
She was breathtakingly beautiful.

She smiled up at me seriously. "Good morning, Master.
I hope we didn't wake you too soon."  Her lustrous eyes
looked up at me.  I had never seen her so content.  She
was fingering her collar absently with one hand, the
other was lightly tracing the welts across her chest.
They still looked angry.

"Good morning, my love."  I bent my head to her and
kissed her softly.  She gasped as if an electric shock
went through her.

"Did Janey see what I, uh, what we did last night?"
Sally nodded.  "Is she OK with it?"

Sally's face clouded over, and she turned her head away
from me as she answered.

"What was that, my love?  I didn't hear you."

She turned back to face me, her face torn, a puzzle of
conflicting emotions.  When she spoke she whispered so
that the two little ears on the head busy at my cock
couldn't hear.  "She didn't say it out loud, and she
may not know it herself, but I can somehow sense, I
know somehow that she wants you to do the same thing to
her, too.  In fact, she... she ... Oh, God!  Master?  I
don't know what to do!  She is so much like me that I'm
frightened for her almost more now than after she was
attacked."

My normally competent, rock-solid Sally dissolved into
a puddle of tears.  It was obvious I wasn't going to
get anything more from her, so I went to the source.

"Janey?"

"Mrreoph?"

"Janey, put the toy away.  Daddy wants to speak with
you."  I said with mock seriousness.

"Awww.  Do I have to?" she teased.  Then she wiggled
her firm flesh up my torso so that her head was just
out of the sheet.  This action placed the head of my
cock right at the entrance of her cunt.  She teasingly
wiggled her butt as if to slide down on it.  The flimsy
material of her panties had bunched up to one side.  I
wondered if this was by intent or accident, but I had a
hunch she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Janey.  Do NOT move another inch!  Not one wiggle."
My tone left no room for playfulness.  She got the hint
and rolled to her side, still pressing her luscious
tits into my bare chest.

"Yes, Daddy?  You wanted to talk to me?" she asked
innocently.  I would have to remember how good an
actress she was.  I had just pulled her off my cock,
and I still almost believed she was an innocent little
girl.  God help me!

"Uh, do you have any idea what made your Mom so upset?"

"Nooo!" was her wide-eyed innocent response.  I just
came in to talk with her this morning.  She had a great
time last night, Dad.  She came so hard.  I came, too,
just from our connection.  And then she didn't stop,
but just kept on cumming and cumming and cumming."  She
raised her self up on her hands as she was speaking.
As I saw those rubbery mounds exposed to the afternoon
light, I saw what had unsettled Sally.

Thin, red lines tracked across her ivory skin.  Criss-
crossing the succulent orbs.  Lots of them.  More than
I had imagined during their whispered talk.  Sally had
kept her poise rather well, I thought.  I raised a
finger to track the lines.

"Oh, Janey!  Did you do this?"  I already knew, but I
wanted her to tell me.

"Uh-huh.  When I heard you do it to her, I hated you at
first.  She felt so afraid.  And then,  WHAM!"  She
clapped her hands together for effect.  I enjoyed
watching the jiggling repercussions.  "She went from
afraid to out of this world in love with you.  And then
you hit her.  And she just went out."  She made an
exploding motion with her hands.  "Poof!"

"But, why did you do that to yourself.  Didn't it
hurt?"

She hung her head.  "Uh-huh."

"Then why didn't you stop?"  But I already knew the
answer to that, too.  She didn't know how to fail.  She
just kept trying, and trying, and trying.  God, how
that must have hurt her.

"I just wanted to feel just a little bit of what Mom
felt.  But all it did was hurt."

"Are you going to be alright?"

She shook her head `yes'.  "I think so.  Mom said she
had some stuff to put on them."

I must have been asleep for that part.  Probably just
as well.  I don't think I could have just lain there,
knowing she was in pain.

"Daddy?"  I knew what was coming, but I couldn't hide.
"Would you, could we, well, I want to try that, you
know, what you did to Mom.  I think."

I looked at Sally for help.  She gave none.  She was
watching me for my decision.  Her calm demeanor rattled
me.  If I made the wrong choice, Oh shit.  But was
there even a right choice?

I copped out.  I did what any red-blooded male would do
when given the option.  I decided to see just how much
she wanted it.  I was going to test her AND make her
wait.  And if that didn't dissuade her, well then, God
help us all.

I hadn't thought of taking this whole submission thing
all that seriously before, but now I was thanking my
foresight to prepare.  I had made several purchases,
thinking the girls might want to role-play a bit as
slave and Master.  But now, with Sally reluctant to
give up any of her hard fought territory and Janey
wanting to take a serious look at being a submissive, I
decided that now was as good of a time as any for the
next step.  Or was it a leap off a precipice?

I turned back to Janey.  "Well, young lady.  If you'll
move those fabulous tits and let me up for a moment, I
have some more presents for you."

"Oh, Daddy!  You're terrible.  But," she looked over at
Sally, "Thank You!"

I swear she was positive I was changing the subject and
ignoring her request, but combine the word `present'
with a woman's curiosity, and you can get away with
just about anything.  It may be their only weakness.

I slipped out of bed and went over to my dresser.  I
retrieved two slender boxes from my jewelry drawer.  I
had hidden them in the open.  Another trick, guys.  If
you want them to find it, hide it.

I walked back and stood by the bed.  Both of their
tousled blonde heads followed me.  Good.  I had their
attention.

"My love.  Kneel!"  I indicated a spot in front of me
and to my right.

Sally moved immediately to kneel in front of me on the
spot I indicated.

"Would you care to join us?" I asked Janey.

She bounced off the bed and landed with a `thump' on
the floor.  It was a fantastic sight, and my prick
twitched in appreciation of all that flesh in mo-mo-mo-
motion.  Sally saw my reaction and started to laugh.
She tried to cover with a cough, but all that came out
was a `snort'.  Very unladylike.  But the show must go
on.

"Yes, well.  Nice landing, kid.  Knock yourself out."
This time Sally did laugh, guffaw, really, which she
choked off quickly.  She looked up at me shocked,
panicked, as if I would be upset at her for laughing at
my joke.  I reached down and stoked her cheek with the
back of my hand.  We had a lot of details to iron out.
Janey knelt there with a confused look on her face.
She didn't seem to have the faintest notion of the show
she had just put on for me.

As they were both facing me, away from the bed, I
stepped between them and turned, sitting down on the
bed.  I reached for the clasp of Sally's bejeweled
collar.

"Oh, Master.  Please.  No.  Don't."  She was
heartbroken.

"Shhhh.  Quiet, my love.  As much as this is a
beautiful piece of jewelry, paling only in comparison
to you, it is a bit impractical to wear it around the
house, no?"  I took the first box and opened it.  "I
think this one will be more comfortable and practical
while still serving the same purpose."

I slipped the broad leather band I had had Amud make
for Sally around her neck.  He had seemed to know just
what I needed.  Or maybe he knew what she needed.  It
fit perfectly, just a bit snug.  It was a constant
reminder of her submission to me, her Master.  The dark
leather made a startling contrast against her light
skin.  In the front center was small medallion.  It was
a silver disk with an emerald green ceramic inlay
showing two hands bound together at the wrist.  The
loose ends of the rope were in the shape of a stylized
letter `S'.

I fastened the collar at the back of her neck.  The
solid click seemed to enervate her and I could feel her
trembling.  "I have the only key to the lock on this
collar, my love.  This collar doesn't come off until I
decide."  I touched her shoulder to indicate she should
bend over, bowing down her face to the floor.  "This is
what I have decided.

"You are mine, my love, forever.  I love you with all
my heart and will do my best to be the Master you
deserve.  Do not feel guilty for this change in our
relationship.  You have not forced me to do this, this
is my choice.  I have never felt like this before,
never felt this powerful before.  I have you, my love,
to thank."

I took the second box and took another collar from it.
I lifted Janey's blonde hair out of the way and slipped
it around her neck.  Her collar buckled with a pair of
sturdy snaps.  Her collar was identical to her
mother's, with the exception that the ceramic was royal
blue and the ropes formed a `J'.  Janey turned to thank
me.

"Eyes front!"

She stopped, frozen.  I hadn't used that tone with her
before, but she knew instinctively better than to
disobey or make wise.  She turned back and settled
uncertainly on her knees.

I sat quietly behind them for a while.  I toyed with
the soft skin along Janey's shoulders and twirled the
errant hairs as I sat there.  Janey began to fidget,
nervous in the silence.  I saw Sally's hand slide
slowly over to her daughter and grasp her hand.  I was
almost jealous.  They had each other to help each other
through this learning time.  I was on my own and at
that moment, didn't have a clue of where I was going.
I only knew that this `felt' right.

I had a short, heated argument with myself about
rebelling against going with my feelings.  God, I hated
that.  I had always associated a person who made
decisions based on their feelings with wimpy suck-faces
and mama's boys.  Not something I associated with my
own self-image.  It was my opinion that if you didn't
know what to do, how the fuck were you supposed to feel
your way through?

Now, here I was, feeling my way along.  But, in my
defense, these were really strong feelings.  I didn't
understand it, but it was as if I was hooked in to
Sally's head and body and soul and spirit.  Janey's
too, but in a lesser way.  That link fluctuated.  Right
now it was coming in loud and clear.  I plowed on, into
the unknown following the faintly lighted path in front
of me.

"Janey, before you agree to wear this collar, I want
you to understand what it means.  When you choose wear
this collar, you will obey me without question, without
hesitation.  When you have the collar on, your purpose,
your only focus is my pleasure.  Not yours.  You will
be allowed to have sexual release when I decide.  In
addition, whatever, I repeat, whatever I wish to do to
you or have you do, you will do.  And you will enjoy it
for the sole reason that I wished for you to do it.
Your mother can explain that better to you later.

"Your personality will not cease to exist.  You will
still be the `Janey' I know and love.  I expect you to
be curious and playful, as you are now.  I will not
accept less than your best effort at whatever I have
you do, and I know you are very, very good at
everything you do.  I will also not accept less than
your total obedience.  You may question me if you do
not understand something.  I expect that.  You may make
suggestions that you think you, or others would enjoy
or benefit from.  But when I have made up my mind, you
may not question my decisions or commands.  I will be
as precise as possible in my commands.  Follow what I
say exactly.

"I will not hurt you in any way.  By that, I do not
mean I will not cause you to experience pain.  If you
accept my collar, you will feel pain.  If you disobey,
the consequences will be particularly painful.  At
other times, it may please me to torment you.  Perhaps
without giving you the pleasure your Mom felt last
night.  But know that that pain will pass, your body
will heal.

"What I meant when I said I will not hurt you was that
I will not break your spirit.  If anything, I will try
to build you up, make you stronger.  You have already
been hurt once, very badly.  I could not bear to do
that to you myself, to cause you that kind of pain.

"I will not break your heart or cause you that kind of
pain.  I love you, Janey, and would give my life for
you.  But it is not like I love your mother.  Our
relationship may be sexual, yes you can stop worrying
about that. But that can make this real complicated for
a beautiful young girl.  I know it confuses the Hell
out of me!

"Your collar snaps on.  It is not permanent.  That is
intentional.  It is a reminder to me and you that
someday, you will take this collar off and move on.
When you are ready.  I also want you to be very clear
that if, at any time, you feel overwhelmed, if you
sense the blackness reaching up to grab you, or if
there is something I ask of you that you are not ready
to do, you can reach back and unsnap it.

"I will not be your Master and you will not address me
that way.  Our relationship will not be what your
mother's and mine is."  I thought fast.  "I remember
one of my instructors telling me that the Japanese word
for Master is `Sensei', but that it also means
`teacher.'  Use that when you speak to me."

I sat back.  "Any questions so far?"

Hesitantly, she turned to me, waiting for the rebuke
that didn't come.  "Sensei."  She tried out the word,
letting it slip off her tongue.  "I like that."  She
smiled, irrepressibly.  "So what are you going to call
me?  You don't call Mom `Sally' when she has her collar
on.  You call her Love, or My Love.  Gushy."  She
paused, then when the time was right, "Are you going to
call me `Grasshopper', like in the "Kung Fu" TV
series?"  I saw Sally shaking, silently laughing at her
offspring's audacity.

I laughed, too.  "Well, that may be a bit plagerous.
But how about `Cricket'?  You know, I do like the
sounds you make when you rub your legs together..."  I
said, lecherously.

"Daa...  Sensei!"  She blushed a deep red, but she was
pleased, both at the comment and for her slave name.
Suddenly she grinned a mischievous grin, and looked at
me questioningly.  When I simply looked back at her,
she lay back flat on the floor, and began what had to
be one of the most sensuous movements of her legs I had
ever seen.  With each scissor-like move her upper legs
brushed over each other.  With an athletic twist at one
point in the arc, she was able to apply pressure to her
excitable clitoris.  She stopped and started a couple
of times until she had the moves down, and then began
to masturbate, using her legs alone.  I watched her for
a while, enjoying her building sexual tension as she
stimulated herself with the rhythmic motions.  Then I
popped the bubble.

"Cricket?  Remember, you may only cum when I say you
can cum.  I insist on that."  She stopped in mid-moan.
"But don't stop what you're doing.  Please continue.
It is most erotic.  It pleases me to watch you."

She blushed again.  The coloring became her.  I hoped
she never lost that part of her character.  Janey was
confused at my request and didn't know what to do at
first.  Finally she continued, her pace a bit slower.
"Sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Am I being punished?"

"Are you in pain?"

"No, of course not."  Her breathing was getting ragged.

I waited.  She was bursting with questions.  I intended
to enjoy this situation to the fullest so I tapped
Sally on her back and motioned for her to take my
throbbing shaft in her mouth.  She quickly raised
herself from her bowed posture and took her place.
Engulfing my cock head in her hot mouth, she held
still.

She groaned in absolute pleasure as I pushed down on
her head, giving her permission to move her head, to
service me.  She wrapped both her arms around my waist
possessively, her fingers tickling that certain spot in
the small of my back that always seemed to respond to
her fingers.  I thrust my hips forward reflexively,
forcing more of myself down her throat.  I wound my
hands in her hair and fucked her head up and down,
establishing a tempo that would keep me hard for a long
time.  I went deep into her throat, setting off the
implants.  She shuddered.  I felt scalding tears wash
down my inner thighs.  I searched for some unhappiness
in her, but found none.

Janey had felt the orgasm Sally experienced.  It just
about pushed her over the edge.  "Sensei, what will
happen if I, you know, uh..."

"Cum?" I finished for her.

"Yeah.'

"You will be punished."

"Hard?"

"No more than you can bear.  But from what I see from
those marks all over your body, you can bear a lot,
Cricket.  So be careful, please, for your sake."

She kept up her sinuous movements, slowly separating
her legs to reduce the friction.  I think she hoped I
wouldn't notice.  She was trying to avoid a climax by
not doing her best.  Unacceptable.

"Cricket?  Only your very best.  Remember?"

"Oh, God, Sensei, this is too hard!  I will cum if I
keep doing this."

"Do you wish to quit?"

She thought about that.  "No.  No pain, no gain,
right?"

I smiled.  I knew she was a bright girl.  "Right.
Learn to control it.  It takes a great deal of
strength.  You can ask your Mom later about that, too.
She may be able to help."

I raised Sally up off my cock.  I was a long ways from
finishing.  She knew it, but she still sucked at my
shaft as I pulled her off.  Maybe she thought she could
get something out of it that way.  I lifted her lips to
mine and kissed her.  She seemed disappointed there was
nothing to share with me this time.  I grinned at her
and lifted her a little more so that her legs fell on
both sides of mine.  Her eyes widened, hoping, longing.
I settled her down, impaling her on my shaft.  She
hissed in my ear as I filled her completely.

"You had yours earlier, my love.  You may not peak
again until Janey cums.  She will, but I haven't decide
when that will be, yet.  I am finding this `Master' and
`Sensei' thing to be an incredible turn-on.  I could
get used to this.  And I have you to thank!"  I had
spoken softly in her ear, for her alone.  She fastened
her sharp teeth into the muscles on my neck and began a
serious movement up and down my cock.  I urged her on
with rhythmic swats to her smooth ass cheeks.  They
colored nicely.  Her arms tightened around me in a
death hug.  She would have to love me to death.

Janey hadn't heard us until she heard the slapping of
my hands against her mother's ass.  She was
preoccupied, anyway, focusing her considerable
attention on not having an orgasm while still
stimulating herself.

I watched the play of emotions flit across the faces of
the two beautiful women, one openly masturbating in
front of me for the first time, the other steadily
fucking the hard shaft of her Master.  Shame, lust,
need, a little hate, aching need, passion, a slight
tremor, a twitch, and then some real fear as they both
sensed they were at the edges of the forbidden
climaxes.  I reached out with my senses and blocked the
link Janey had with her mom.  I didn't want any
extraneous blips from Sally to hit her unexpectedly and
push her over.  She was trying so hard.

Janey noticed the dampening of the feelings coming from
Sally.  She got a frightened look on her face, and
stopped moving her legs.  She hugged her arms around
herself.  "God, Sensei, is this what other people feel?
I would rather be punished.  Please, I feel so alone.
Please?"

I relented and let a little bit more of Sally leak
through to her.  She latched on to that little bit like
a drowning man to a life raft.  She began to rub her
legs again, this time with the intent of bringing
herself off rapidly.

She was putting me in tough spot.  Just like a woman to
find a way to manipulate a man, regardless of the
circumstances.

"Cricket, I do not wish to punish you.  You may cum.
But you will cum only when I count to three.  Clear?"

She nodded, shakily.  With my foot I urged her hand
closest to me to her chest.  She looked at me
questioningly.  With my hands behind Sally's back, I
held up one finger, then two then three, then I pinched
my thumb and forefinger together in an exaggerated
manner, indicating I wanted her to squeeze hard; harder
than she normally would.  She nodded and brought her
other hand up, teasing and then capturing both erect
nipples.  I watched this erotic display for a while,
until she turned her frantic eyes on mine, pleading for
release.

"One."  I lifted Sally up.  I could feel the knots in
her muscles.

"Two."  I kept her up, just the head of me inside her.
I kissed her nipples, first one then the other.  I
heard Janey grunting on the floor with the effort of
holding off her climax.  She had waited long enough.

"Three!"  I dropped Sally, letting her own weight bring
her crashing down against my balls.  I forced my hips
up at the same time, crashing the tip of my cock into
her cervix.  I shot my load up into her spasming cunt.
Her teeth bit down hard on my neck.

Janey screamed, "Sensei!"  Sally screamed, "Master!" at
the same moment.

I removed the damper from between them, and the
aftershocks that fed off each other were sweeter than
the original twin earthquakes.

We didn't get much else done that day.

Chapter 27

It was early the next morning when we finally got out
of bed for any length of time.  Believe it or not, I
didn't have intercourse with Janey once during that
time.  It just didn't seem right, with her wearing the
collar.  I think both of us, and Sally, too,
instinctively understood that her first time with me
had to be with her full choice.  That doesn't mean that
I didn't enjoy her company, so to speak, to the
fullest.  To be honest, meeting Sally's immense build
up of sexual needs took most of my attentions and
energy.  Having a second naked female body helped for
stimulation, though.

Rousting my two disheveled bedmates out of bed, I gave
serious consideration to how to proceed.  I didn't want
to be a dictator, but the lifestyle we were headed into
demanded that there be some clear guidelines - rules -
for the two women to live by.  For them to know what to
expect, how to act, etc.  Hell, I need them as much as
they did.

If working for the government had taught me anything,
it had taught me that Ralph Waldo Emerson was correct
when he said "That government governs best that governs
least."  Or something like that.  The point he was
trying to make was to make as few hard and fast rules
as possible, just ten commandments.  That's all.  Just
enough to show the intent, don't stifle the initiative.

Breakfast was a veritable feast.  The two new `slaves'
tried to out-do each other in making my favorite
dishes.  I finally sat them down and told them they
were my favorite dishes and to quit wasting good food.
While I had them down and quiet, I decided to introduce
the rules.

"Before I start, let me say that your participation in
all of this, Cricket, is voluntary.  However, you can't
pick and chose what you will or won't do, if you decide
to participate.  It's all or nothing.  Understood?"

I got a quiet, but definite nod in the affirmative.

"First, these rules I'm going to go over only apply
when you have on the collars.  Sally, I have the key to
yours, so I decide when they apply to you.  Janey, you
can put yours on whenever you are ready to participate.
After you put it on, though, it stays there until I
take it off.  Exceptions are for school or company or
when you are truly overwhelmed."

I got two nods of understanding.  Janey was a little
wide-eyed at the concept she just couldn't back out
after she was in.  Sally didn't like it, but
understood.

"Second, there will be special clothing you will wear.
Slave garb, so to speak.  Love, your first job is to
design and sew up two sets of slave garb for you and
Cricket.  It should not be blatant, but it should make
you aware of how exposed you are at all times.  Your
bodies should be totally available to me at all times.
I expect to see those outfits by tonight.  You both
have permission to go to town to shop for materials."
I quickly calculated distances and time.  "You may be
gone for two hours.  For every minute over that limit,
you will both receive one stroke of punishment."

They both gasped.  The time I allotted would almost
positively ensure at least a minimal punishment.  How
substantial it would actually be was up to them,
however, and by the amount of time they spent shopping.

"Third, when not otherwise engaged in a productive
activity, one of you will attend to me.  Love, do you
remember our bet?"

Sally nodded, her eyes widening.

"That will be the assumed position.  Please take it now
as a demonstration for Cricket."

She slowly slid to her knees to a position in between
my legs.  She parted my robe and slipped just the head
of my flaccid cock into her mouth.  I didn't stay limp
for long as I was in one of my favorite places and she
had to adjust the position of her head to accommodate
my growth.

"Cricket, you will observe that she has just the head
in her mouth.  She is not moving, sucking, licking or
humming.  Nothing.  This is what will be called `Head
Time.'  You will have your own opportunity to do this."

Sally started to rise, having given her demonstration.
I cleared my throat, and, when she looked at me, raised
a questioning eyebrow.  I nodded with my head,
indicating to her to get back into the position.
Realizing she had erred, she blushed deeply.  God, she
was beautiful.  I resumed when she had my cockhead
reseated in her fabulous mouth.

"Cricket, you have much to learn, and are really in a
training position.  I, not you, will determine your
rate of progress.  You have already begun giving me
blowjobs, but need practice.  Therefore, you will
practice every morning, to start the day."

Janey cheered at that, and I saw Sally just about
choke, but hey, what guy wouldn't want to start the day
with a gorgeous teenager giving him a blowjob?

I continued with Janey's instructions.  "Unless
instructed otherwise, you will sleep in your own room.
I don't want any unconscious accidents, clear?"

Sally relaxed a little at that.  I wasn't going to push
her little girl into a sex slave thing entirely.  Janey
wasn't as pleased, though.  Tough.

"Love, you main duties will be the household, including
the health of said household.  You will run the house.
What you say goes, even over Cricket, and to some
extent, over me.  You will determine the menu, any
social events, and, most importantly, a rigorous
exercise program..."

How she could smirk with her mouth full of cock, I
don't know, but damned if she didn't.

"... other than sexual exercises, Love.  I will
determine that area.  Clear?  I don't want flabby
slaves.  Oh, by the way.  I will be doing the exercise
program with you.  I expect it to challenge me, as
well."

I saw her face pale when I said that.  She knew I
exercised hard every morning.  If it was to be
challenging to me, she and Janey would be hard pressed
to keep up.  There were going to be some sore muscles
for a few weeks.

"Cricket, your main duty is to see to your education
and any related activities.  The collar comes off in a
heartbeat for those things.  Understood?"

"Lastly, the small room off of the living room, now the
den, will be a `Free Room.'  None of the slave rules
apply when you are in that room, for either of you,
collar or no collar.  That is your refuge, your
sanctuary, should you ever need it.  To be sure that
the sanctity of that room in enforceable, I give you my
word.  That, and I will put a loaded pistol in the
drawer of the desk in that room, readily accessible."

Sally lost it at that.  Her head jerked up and she
almost blurted out her objections.

Before she could object, I went on.  "This is going to
be our lifestyle in our own home, and is not for public
display.  Unless specifically instructed to do so, you
will act `normal' in public.  On occasion you may be
bound in public, but it will not be visible, and it
will be your primary job not to allow it to become
visible or obvious to the public.  You will never be
publicly displayed or humiliated.  Above all, you will
be expected to act with dignity and respect, both
towards each other and me.  I will tolerate no
disrespect."

"Oh, and one other thing, you will always speak the
truth to me and to each other.  Always.  Your true
thoughts, your true feelings.  You do not need to be in
the Free Room for that.  I cherish your minds more than
your bodies.  I will gag you as little as possible, and
only with your consent or for special punishments or
playtimes.  I want you to be able to express
yourselves, understood?  I will not demand silence.

"If this lifestyle limits your freedom to be who you
are in any noticeable way, it will not continue.  It
will be difficult for you, knowing where that line is,
but we will find it together."  I turned to look at
Sally.  "Now, Love, I understand you wanted to say
something?"

"Master, the gun, there is no need.  Your word is
enough."

"Love, suppose I am punishing you.  Suppose I go too
far, push you past your limits.  I am still new at
this.  It would never be my intent to harm you, but in
the heat of passion, in the contest of wills to be a
true Master to you, I might not recognize when I have
gone too far.  A doorway won't stop me.  A loaded gun
will.  I want you to know - know! - that you are safe
in that room, even from me.  However, if you can think
of a better way, I will listen."

She sat silently, stunned at the seriousness with which
I was taking this new lifestyle.  I had always heard
you should be careful what you wish for, that you just
might get it.  Well, Sally was now faced with having
her fondest wishes coming true.  And there was a loaded
gun involved.  Not quite what she had expected.

There didn't seem to be anymore comments, so I took
Sally's hand and lifted her to her feet.  With
instructions for Janey to clean up the kitchen, I lead
Sally into our bedroom and from there to the bathroom.

I looked around at the clutter on the counter, mostly
hers, got the wastebasket, and swept it all in.
Turning her with her back to the counter, I lifted her
up and sat her down, her back to the mirror.  She had a
bemused smile on her face until I lifted her feet so
they rested on the counter.

"What are you going to do, Master?  Uh, if I can ask,
that is."

Grinning, I answered her.  "I am going to attend to
you.  And, yes, you may ask anything, any time.  I
already told you that."

"Master, you are going to attend to what?"

"Well, I noticed last night that there was a bit of
stubble growing down around your pubic area.  I thought
I would clean it up for you."

"But Master, I can do that myself."

I leaned in to kiss her gently.  "I know you can.  But
would you deny me the pleasure of doing this for you?
Remember the last time?"

She groaned erotically.  It had been a most enjoyable
time for us both, but especially for her.

"Every morning, after Janey finishes her `practice,'
you and I will shave and shower together.  You will
shave me, I will shave you.  Then we will shower
together.  I will wash you, you will wash me.  Any more
questions?"

Her eyes widened.  She knew I used a straight razor, my
great-great grandfather's that was deadly sharp.  Now I
was asking, no, telling her she would use it on me.  My
face, my neck would be at her mercy.  It was another
way of my telling her how deadly serious I was about
this new way of life.

"But I won't need shaving every morning, Master."

"You would question my instructions so soon, slave?"
With that, grinning, I picked up the brush and whipped
up a good head of foam.  I applied it much more
thoroughly to her nether regions than necessary.  Her
eyes never left the razor as I sharpened it on the
thick leather strop.

A well-placed thumb told me she not only remembered the
last time I had shaved her, she was looking forward to
it now, as well.  When I heard her straining and
moaning as if in pain, I asked her what the problem
was.

"You haven't given me permission to cum, Master.  It is
very difficult to hold back."

I sat back, dumbfounded.  "Sally, Love.  You always
have permission to cum, unless I specifically tell you
not to.  Furthermore, during this special time every
morning, I will expect you to cum as often as possible.
This is our time, just you and me.  Do and say what you
want in here.  OK?"

With a sob of relief, she drowned my thumb with her
juices.  I heard a faint, "Hey, what's going on in
there" from Janey's room or the kitchen as she sensed
her Mom's orgasm, but we both ignored it for the
moment.  There were more important matters to attend
to.

Much, much later, with shaky hands, she only nicked me
once with the razor.  That was probably my fault for
making her shave me while impaled on my cock.

So what if the shave was a little ragged?  We had many
mornings ahead of us for her to practice.

Chapter 28

My two slave girls were a flurry of activity the rest
of the morning.  Around noon or so, Janey slipped in to
my office where I was working, and stood there, shyly
waiting for me to say something to her.  Finally, after
ignoring her for several long minutes I looked up at
her.

"Are you supposed to be doing something?"

"Uh, Mom said I should do some Head Time while she
makes lunch."

"And...?"

"Well, I didn't want to bother you, and, well, uh..."

I stared at her.  She got nervous and started to cry.
Damn.  I motioned her over to me and took her on my
lap.  When she settled down I kissed her gently on the
cheek and then urged her down between my legs, under
the desk.  Let me tell you, life doesn't get much
better than that!

Janey loosened my belt, unsnapped my jeans and pulled
down the zipper.  I was pleased she had some difficulty
doing that, as if she had never done this before.  I
hoped not.

"Can I use my hands?"

"Huh?"

"Can I use my hands to, you know, get it out?"

I laughed.  "Yes, you may, though I might just tie them
behind your back sometime for the fun of it!"

Blushing, she reached in and freed my semi-stiff cock.
She took the opportunity to examine it closely until I
cleared my throat to remind her why she was there.
With an impish little giggle, she slipped the swollen
purplish head into her mouth.

Not knowing how long she could stay there, or how long
I could last in that hot steaming cauldron, I busied
myself with some of the financial reports that needed
to be reviewed.  It must have been 10 minutes later
when I sensed her arousal building.  It was amazing.  I
could literally `see' the lights and colors of the aura
around her body shifting and changing, building to a
swirling kaleidoscope of feelings.  Her hands were
resting on my thighs and she wasn't moving, so I knew
she wasn't bringing herself off.  I was getting better
at this sensing stuff, so it wasn't totally unexpected
when she released me from her mouth.

"Sensei?  What's happening?  I'm going to, to, Oh, God!
I'm cummmmming!"

I could feel her climax rolling through her, kind of,
and I focused on it without touching her.  Actually, I
focused on some of the brighter colors of her emotions.
Maybe I focused a bit too much because suddenly her
eyes rolled up into her head and she sort of slumped
down onto the floor.

I leaned down and picked her up, settling her
comfortably on my lap.  For being so relaxed, I could
still feel the sexual tremors coursing through her
body.  She was purring, too.  I rocked her back and
forth like she was a little girl.

I looked up to see Sally propped up in the doorway, a
wild expression on her face.  "What in the Hell was
that?"  Her breathing was ragged as if she had just
finished running a race.

"Janey was doing some Head Time and had an orgasm."

"But you helped, didn't you?

"Huh?  No, not really.  I didn't touch her at all."

"No.  I mean with your link.  You helped."

"Oh, yeah, I guess.  Is she alright?"

"Alright?  God, I should feel so good.  I want one of
those, too..."  As an afterthought she added,
"...please, Master."

It was the first time I had intentionally helped one of
them with an orgasm.  This link thing I had seemed to
be different, much more powerful than the ones they had
and I still had a long way to go in learning to control
it.

Sally stood watching us for a bit.  I sensed a bit of
jealousy - not much, but a bit.  Then she, too, focused
on Janey and she relaxed.  She glanced at the clock on
the wall.

"Lunch is ready.  Would you like it served in here,
Master?"

"I'll bring her out to the kitchen.  I like it when we
all eat together.  Like a family."

It must have been the right answer as I saw her smile
contentedly as she turned and walked down the hall.

After lunch the two of them changed into jeans, tennies
and t-shirts for their shopping trip.  They presented
themselves to me before leaving.  I motioned Janey over
to me, had her turn around and I unsnapped her collar.
I hung it from a special peg underneath the clock on
the wall.  I motioned Sally over, and unlocked her
collar and put it on another peg.

As soon as she was free, Sally threw her body up
against mine, forcing me back against a bookcase.  Her
arms went around my neck and she drew my lips to hers
in a fierce, passionate and long kiss.  Both of us were
breathing raggedly when she finally broke it off.

"You know, you don't have to wait for me to take off
the collar to give me another one of those," I
whispered to her.  "I could get to like those really
well..."

Sally sighed and tried to meld her body to mine,
purring contentedly.  "I know.  I just wanted to let
you know, when I was free, how much I love you."  She
looked up at me and smiled.  "And to say `Thank You,'
too."

"I love you, too.  Listen, if the collar is too much of
a restriction on you expressing how you feel ..."

"Oh, no!  I'll get used to it.  It's just that, well,
before, I wasn't allowed to have likes or dislikes."

"Am I doing this wrong?"

Again she smiled.  "No, you're wonderful.  But old
habits die hard.  I will change.  You are the Master,
my Master."

I looked over at the clock.  "Well, as much as I love
you, and this little touching moment, you now have 1
hour 57 minutes to get those collars back on.  You'd
better get a move on."

With faux screams of terror, the two lovelies dashed to
Sally's car and headed for the Mall.  I knew when they
went the wrong direction down the highway that Sally
intended to push the envelope of their punishment as
far as she could.  I hoped she wouldn't make it too
hard on Janey.

I had some modifications to make on the furniture while
they were gone, adding eyebolts and straps to the bed
frames, headboards and footboards at regular intervals.
I did both Janey's bed and ours.  When I was done, the
new fixtures were hidden from sight.  I was pleased
with my handiwork.

The proximity alarm in the driveway sounded and I
looked out the window.  I saw Sally's car sitting at
the end of the driveway, almost out of sight.  I wasn't
sure if she knew about the alarm I had had installed
during that media nightmare, but regardless, I wasn't
pleased that she was so flagrantly extending their
return time.  I stood and watched for about 10 minutes
before the car started up and the two girls came back
in the house.

Janey came tearing into my office and knelt down in
front of me.  She scooped her hair forward to expose
her neck.  When I didn't move she gave a worried look
at the clock and, as another ticked off, gave a tiny
squeal of fear.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Janey?"

"Aren't you, uh, um, going to put the collar back on?"

"What?  It's my job to fetch your collar?"

The look of horrified realization on her face was
priceless.  She dashed up and snatched her collar and
tried to hand it to me.  When I wouldn't take it, she
began shaking it urgently.

"Daaaad.  Here it is.  Take it."  She paused.  "Oh!
Please?"

"Present it to me properly, Janey."

"Huh?"

"Kneel down, yes, like that.  Now take the collar in
both hands, put them together with the palms up.  Good.
Bow your head down.  Right.  Now, that's the proper way
to present your collar to me; as a gift of your whole
being."  Sally had come into the room and was standing
quietly at the doorway.  I don't think Janey knew she
was there.

"Oh.  OK.  Sorry."

"That's OK, Janey.  You're learning, remember?"

I sat and watched her squirm.

"Uh, Dad.  Was there anything else?"

"No.  I was just wondering if you had anything to tell
me."  I was looking directly at Sally when I said that.

Janey quit squirming.  Sally stood deathly still.  They
both knew that I knew they had delayed their return
intentionally.  "No," was her quiet reply.

I grinned.  Good.  She wouldn't tattle on her Mother
just to lessen her punishment.  "So, whose idea was it
to delay getting back?"

She just knelt there, silent.  I could sense
desperation in her aura, coloring my sense of her.  She
was torn between fear of the pain and punishment and of
betraying her Mother.  I'm glad she stayed silent.

Taking pity on her, I bent over, took her collar and
fastened it around that slim neck.  "Twenty minutes
late.  For you."

She looked over at the clock and back at me with big
eyes.  The clock showed that they had been over 30
minutes late, even before I delayed getting her collar
back on her.

"It wasn't all Mom's fault, Sensei.  Please don't be
mad at her."

I took her into my arms and held her while she worked
out her tears.  "I could never be mad at your Mom,
Cricket.  Don't you worry about it.  You just focus on
you.  You let your Mom and me worry about us, OK?"

She hugged me and dashed out of the room.  I don't know
if she even saw Sally standing there.  I halfway think
she thought she was escaping without her punishment.
Oh, well.  She would learn.

Sally, having had the benefit of Janey's example went
and retrieved her collar from its peg on the wall.
With the grace of an angel, she knelt in front of me
and gave me her gift.  The way it was done made me feel
honored to accept it.  I know I cherished her, but she
made it seem special.  Even so, there was an issue
between us.  I locked the collar around her neck.

As she tried to rise, I placed my foot on the back of
her head.  She froze.  I sensed dread spreading through
her.  She knew I was displeased.  Not angry.
Disappointed.

I tried to focus on that disappointment and project it
to her.  She gasped as I succeeded, then she dissolved
into a sobbing heap.  I was aware of Janey outside the
door, listening.  I tried to send her a reassurance
that it was OK.  I would not hurt her Mom.  I was
surprised to feel her calm down.

I let Sally stay down.  I did not try to comfort her as
I had her daughter.  I did relax the displeasure I was
focussing on her and when she finally got her sobbing
under control, I spoke to her.

"I expect to see the slave garb by tonight, 10:00.  No
delays, understood?"

"Yes, Master."  Her voice was quiet.

"Do Janey's outfit first and have her wear it in when
she is ready for her punishment."  I felt the fear
surge through the trim body listening outside the door.
She really had been hoping I had forgotten.

"Yes, Master."

"Your punishment is 45 minutes."  I had tacked the
remaining time from Janey's punishment to hers.

"Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master."  I didn't sense that
she really was thankful, but I didn't want to push it.

Dinner, as you can imagine, was a quiet affair.  I was
rather amused that they were both so somber.  I was
also amused, and pleased, that neither was afraid.
Janey was anxious, not knowing what to expect.  Sally
was sad, sorry she had displeased me.  I had already
decided on Janey's punishment.  I also had a plan
forming for Sally's.  I hoped it would make my point.

Sally had had Janey working on the outfits while she
prepared dinner.  Janey wasn't happy about that as
getting her outfit done sooner would have accelerated
the time of her date with destiny.  She cleverly got
around that by doing all the prep work on her Mom's
outfit first, so that after dinner, when Sally went in
to sew them together, all of Janey's pattern still
needed to be cut out.  I heard them discussing it, with
Sally telling Janey I had wanted hers done first.
Janey very correctly pointed out that I had told Sally
to do Janey's first, not Janey.  Since Sally hadn't
passed that on to her, she had been free to do what she
wanted.  Damn, I knew she was a smart girl!

As a result, it was nearly 9:00 when Janey slipped into
my office.  I let her stand there a moment before
looking up.  I think I gasped, because she blushed a
deep, deep red.

Janey was wearing a vest of shiny dark blue satin.  The
sides of the vest came to, but didn't cover her
nipples, thus exposing her charms to my view.  A broad
sturdy belt of the same color with several pairs of D-
rings on the sides and in the back was cinched around
her tiny waist.  Her skirt, also dark blue, ended
before her legs began, leaving her exposed in every
position.  With her collar, that was all she wore.  It
was exquisite.

I admired her for several minutes, having her turn
around and pose for me.  I felt her getting more and
more aroused as she paraded herself, nearly naked, in
front of me.  I kept her moving and posing for a while
longer, then indicated for her to kneel in front of me.

When she knelt, I pulled open the robe I had slipped
into after dinner.  My appreciation of her beauty was
evident.  "Head Time," was all I said to her.

Without the slightest hesitation she slipped her mouth
over the head of my cock.  This time, however, it
seemed to calm her down from her aroused state.  I
began to sense softer hues in the colors of her aura,
still with the occasional bright flashes of arousal but
more organized and rhythmic.

I sat stroking her hair gently for the longest time.
It was a kind of bonding time for us.  I wanted her to
know that the punishment to follow was not done in
anger.  I think she understood.

When I lifted her up from her knees, she kissed me.
Not exactly an unchaste kiss, either.  Undeterred, I
positioned her over my knees.  Sally had provided
straps that were attached to the belt and I understood
their purpose immediately.  Capturing Janey's wrists, I
looped the soft straps around them and then fed the
ends through the double-D rings in the back of the belt
that went around her waist.

Janey struggled for a bit, and then giggled nervously,
"Oh!  That's what those are for.  Mom said you'd
probably know."

"Yeah, she's pretty smart.  You'd have figured it out
eventually, too."

I rubbed my hand all over the target she presented to
me.  This wasn't part of the punishment.  I just
enjoyed rubbing her bare ass.  It was just so perfect:
the perfect shape, the perfect size, perfect texture,
and almost the perfect color.  Well, I was going to
make it the perfect color, and right now.

WHAP!

"OH!"

WHAP!

"OH!"

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

Oooooohhhhh,  God.  I'm cummmmmmmming!

I knew she had been primed.  I hadn't wanted to focus
on her and accentuate her arousal, I was still too
clumsy with it.  So I was glad when she went over after
just five firm swats.  I think the Rosen's gadgets
helped, but I swear she would have started just as fast
on her own.

I picked up the pace and the hardness now that she was
on her way.  I don't know how high she went or how many
times.  She just kept going on and on and on.  Her
hands clenched and unclenched over and over as she
struggled against her bonds.  My leg under her crotch
was dripping with her fluids.

After the last blow, I rested my hand on the now ruby
orbs.  The heat from them was astounding.  I dipped my
finger into her dripping slit and touched her button.
That set her off anew.  I was busy watching the colors
of her aura and how they changed as I touched her.
When I brought the tip of my dripping finger to her
tightly clenched anal rosebud, the intensity of the
colors dimmed.  All except one.  That light seemed to
gather all the other light into itself.  I circled my
finger, carefully and easily rimming her asshole.  The
light followed my movements and glowed brighter still
as she became accustomed to the unfamiliar touch.

Taking a chance, I slipped the marauding digit into her
back hole to the first knuckle.  The flash of light
almost blinded me as her entire bodily aura seemed to
come alive with colors and hues of happiness.  Janey
arched her back, bowing her body so tight her ankles
almost touched the back of her head.  With a final
shudder, she collapsed across my knees.

I loosened her wrists from the convenient restraints.
I lifted her limp body in my arms and carried my
treasure into her room.  I sat her on her bed and
carefully stripped off the slave garb from the passive
girl.  I noticed that Sally had provided Velcro
closures in strategic places so that the clothing could
be removed without releasing the slave from bondage.
She had put a lot of thought into the garments.

I reached behind Janey's neck and removed her collar.
She stifled a sob when I did.  I tipped the naked girl
back and put her under the covers, then pulled them up
to her chin.  She gave me a little pout, but she knew
what was coming.  We both knew.  We had both sensed it.

"Janey?  We need to talk."

"Do we have to?"

I just looked at her and smiled.  Then nodded my head.

"I'm going to hold on to your collar for a while.  You
like this too much, and you want it for the wrong
reason.  But, you know that, don't you?"

She nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

"I am going to let you wear it, though ..." she looked
up quickly, surprised, "...on two weekends a month, but
never two in a row."  She frowned, thinking,
calculating.  "And on special occasions, of course.
Fair enough?"

She nodded, agreeing that it was fair.

"You want this too much.  A big reason is because you
think it will get me to fuck you sooner, right?"  She
gave me a wry grin.  "Well, kiddo, you're probably
right.  If you were tied up and naked, the Pope would
have trouble resisting you."  I got a wrinkled nose as
she pictured that gentle elderly statesman leering at
her, but she got the general idea.

"There is so much out there you have yet to experience.
If you were locked up in here, literally, you would
always wonder what you had missed.  There is plenty of
time for you to embrace this life later, when you know
absolutely that this is what you want.

"You should know, too, that I love you very much.  I
could never bear to hurt you."

"The spanking didn't hurt me, Daddy."

"I know, Janey.  I know.  God, I thought you were going
to explode!"

She was giggling as I leaned over to kiss her
goodnight.  She caught me around my neck and hugged me
fiercely.

"Dad?  Mom's afraid."

"Afraid?  Of what?  That I will punish her?"

"Oh, no!  She accepts that.  I'm not real sure, but I
think she knows she did something kind of stupid.  She
feels like she disappointed you and is afraid that you
won't forgive her."  All in one breath.

"Well, Janey, not that it's any of your business, but
she did screw up pretty badly.  And I am disappointed.
But I have already forgiven her.  I won't, I can't hold
it against her.  I love her too much."  I paused and
got real serious.  "I will try to help her remember,
though.  Uh, do you want me to try to turn down your
link with her?  It might get pretty intense."

That last question sent a surge of terror through the
teen, the response I was looking for.  I felt a
corresponding echo of that terror from outside the door
mixed with panic.  I quickly cut their link, then
winked at Janey.  Her eyes widened in surprise and
laughter when she realized the trick I had pulled on
the eavesdropping woman.  She was also terribly
relieved, an emotion I did not allow her mother to
sense.

I left her snuggling in her bed, trying to follow us
with her link.  I knew it wouldn't be hard for her, as
I planned to mete out her Mom's punishment in the room
over her bedroom.  I hoped she would understand.  I
hoped they both would.

I met up with Sally outside my office.  If I had stared
at Janey's outfit, I was google-eyed at Sally's.  Her
outfit was made up of light tan leather with emerald
satin trim.  Instead of a vest, Sally wore a halter-
like top.  A tight strap went around her chest snug
under her breasts.  Two more went around the outsides
of her breasts, up and behind her neck.  I assumed it
tied there.  There was very little other material and
leather.  The effect was to lift and compress her tits,
putting those glorious orbs on a type of tray.  The
welts I had placed there the night before were proudly
displayed.

Her skirt was similar to Janey's with a sturdy waist
belt, D-rings and convenient straps for binding her
wrists.  Her skirt, though, was composed of alternating
narrow leather and emerald thongs.  The thongs all
ended at different lengths, and they were weighted at
the ends, like they had fishing weights sewn into them.
I noticed the ones in the front were designed to bump
up against her clit and slit when she moved, keeping
her aroused.  Clever girl!

Without a word I took her hand and led her upstairs, to
the room where we had entertained Amud and Bala.  The
Arabian motif was still in place.  I pointed to the
other room, the women's quarters without a word.  She
emerged several minutes later in her veils and gauze
outfit I had laid out for her.

She came and stood before me, wondering what to do
next.  I clicked the remote of the stereo.  The `cling-
cling' sounds of Eastern music filled the room.

"Dance."

I could sense her indecision and her despair.  I could
also tell she wanted so badly to please me.

She began to move.  I was prepared to love any effort
she made, but even I have to admit she performed
awkwardly.  Her heart was in it, she gave it her all,
but she did not have the training necessary to make it
right.  She danced with every fiber of her being and I
loved her for it.  I made her dance the entire 45
minutes.  When I clicked off the music, she collapsed
in a sweating, sobbing heap in the middle of the floor.

I let her sob.  I was careful not to convey my
displeasure.  If she had tried to reach out to me with
her link, she would have felt how proud I was of her
for her effort, for not quitting, for her desire to
please me regardless of her lack of skill.  Eventually
she quieted down and did reach out to me.  And she
knew.

I think it made her feel worse.  She finally sat back
on her heels, her face a puffy, teary mess.  Her hair
was plastered to her head with sweat.  I had never seen
her look so beautiful.

I took her two hands and held them in mine.  She almost
broke down again.  She knew a `we have to talk' moment
when she saw one.

"Did you dance well, Sally?"  I used her name.  That
shook her, too.

"N-n-no.  But I tried... Master?"  She ended with a
question, not knowing how to address me.  I gave her a
wan smile, not much comfort, even less help.

"Are you capable of dancing better?"

"Oh, yes!  I just need to learn, and to practice.
Maybe Bala...?"  Her voice trailed off as she couldn't
see where this was going.

"Do you think your dance pleased me?"

"I, I don't know.  I tried to please you.  I sensed you
were pleased, but I also felt that you were trying very
hard not be displeased.  I danced so badly, though, how
could you have liked it?"

"I liked it very much because it came from your heart,
the heart of the one I love."

"But why...?"  There were so many questions, she didn't
know where to start.  I decided to let her off the
hook.

"Sally.  I am a new Master.  I can't `dance' very well
yet, either, but I am willing to learn.  Unlike you, I
don't have Bala to teach me.  I have to rely on you to
help me.  I am trying very hard, with all my heart, to
be the Master you want me to be, to be the best Master
I can be for you, and for Janey.  I may do things
awkwardly at first, but you must know my heart is
always there for you.

"Please do not ever purposefully seek to extend a
punishment again.  I will try to provide you with ample
discipline, if that is what you seek, what you need.  I
need to learn what I can give you first, how to `dance'
to please you, before I can do the fancy steps.
Agreed?"

Sally's eyes were closed, trying to hold back the
tears.  She nodded her heartfelt agreement.

"I will change so you can punish me now."

"The dance was your punishment."

"But...?"

"My Love, " she breathed a sigh of relief at her slave
name, "we both know you would enjoy a spanking at my
hand as much as your daughter did, if not more.  Not to
make you feel worse than you do right now, but I think
you need to know what I had planned before you decided
to lengthen your return time.   What I wanted to do was
to warm your bottom to a sufficiently rosy hue, and
then take you savagely over and over again until you
cried `Uncle'.  That is still something I plan to do
every night, or as often as possible.  But not
tonight."

With a tiny wail, she brought her hand to her mouth to
cut off her cry.  She knew she had lost something
special by trying to do it on her own.  Failing to
still her cries, she threw herself at my feet, her hair
covering them.  I could feel her tears of loss, remorse
and sorrow dripping over them, washing over them.  I
let her cry herself out.  Then I helped her up and led
her down to our room.

I stripped her as I had Janey, gently and with
worshipful adoration of her glorious body.  I led her
to the bathroom and left her to her nightly
preparations.  When she came back to bed, I laid her
softly back against the pillows.  I took her wrists
and, with a single simple loop, tied them to the
headboard.  It was tied tight, but it was more symbolic
than functional.  A firm tug would loosen her wrists in
the night, if necessary.

We cried together and came together as I made love to
her that night, passionately, slowly and with ardor,
over and over.

We both knew it would have been better the other way.

Chapter 29

Janey was calm the next morning as she came in to
practice her fellatio.  She had followed closely her
mother's tortured emotions the night before over their
link.  She had not sensed any malicious intent on my
part.  She also knew I had forgiven her Mom and that
the incident was behind us.

I was still half-asleep when her hot mouth engulfed my
limp dick.  Janey had simply crawled in under the
covers, nude, and gone about her business.  God, could
it get any better?

I turned to look at my bride-to-be and found she was
already awake, quietly watching me wake up.  We looked
at each other in silence as her daughter labored below.
I watched for any signs of anger or jealousy, but there
was only contentment.  Even when she saw my pupils
dilate and my nostrils flare as I filled that
industrious tight hot mouth with my essence, there was
only peace and pleasure at my release.  I felt the two
diamond hard points of Janey's nipples working their
way up my chest.  I turned to meet her mouth as she
kissed me, my taste still predominant in her mouth.

"Morning.  Morning, Mom."  She saw Sally's wrists still
tied to the headboard from the night before.  She
didn't seem to be alarmed or surprised.  Seeing there
was no rush, she kind of melted her fabulous body into
mine.  I was prepared for her to try to slip my cock
into her slit, but she didn't try.  I was surprised,
and proud.

With her finger she reached over and traced the letter
in medallion of Sally's collar.  I think she was a
little sad she didn't have hers, but she seemed
resolved to let me set the pace.  I know she was happy
for her Mom.

I reached up and jerked the strap, freeing Sally.  With
a lascivious grin I ran my finger lightly over her bare
pubic area.  There was just the faintest hint of
stubble, but that was all the excuse I needed.  More
than I needed.  Janey was forgotten as my love and I
headed for the bathroom.

At breakfast I informed Sally that I wanted her to set
up a regular evening with Amud and Bala.  Amud was a
fascinating young man, well versed in a broad range of
political and financial topics and I found I looked
forward to our discussions.  He had expressed that he
did as well.  He and I could talk while the girls
learned to dance and whatever else.  Bala would also
benefit from the relationship, as I was sure my girls
would educate her on the American way of life.  They
liked Bala as much as I liked Amud.

Amud and Bala visited us on Friday.  Much to Janey's
elation, I let her wear her collar.  Sally had called
Cece to help with the preparations, so things were
going smoothly.  Bala, Sally and Janey disappeared
behind the flap of the tent and we could hear them
chatting noisily.

We didn't notice when it got quiet, but suddenly we
heard Bala exclaim loudly.  We both became alert at
that and watched warily as Bala surged out of the
woman's quarters, pulling a half-naked Sally behind
her.

"Look!  Look!" she shrilled.

Bala dragged Sally in front of Amud and bared her
fabulous tits to his view.  I say `dragged' more
because I want to, rather than because Sally was
resisting.  She wasn't and that surprised me.  I also
found that her lack of resistance touched an explosive
anger deep within me that I didn't know I had.  I knew
Bala had sort of dominated Sally before during the
fittings, but I wasn't sure it still carried over.
Apparently it had.

As I had been trained to do in highly charge emotional
situations, I froze with a blank look on my face.  My
enemies, those few still living, know to fear that
expression.

The whip marks I had made earlier in the week on
Sally's lovely creamy white tits were healing nicely,
but the marks were still clearly visible.  In my
jealous rage, I thought Amud's eyes would bug out of
his head as he stared at those two whip-marked orbs,
though in honesty, he tried hard to show a purely
professional interest in them.  He didn't quite
succeed, but I later admitted his restraint.  He was
clearly uncomfortable and in an awkward situation.  I
saw him subtly shift his sitting position, trying to
ease the pressure of his obvious erection.

Janey stood paralyzed in the doorway, forgotten for the
moment.  She had seen my face, and it terrified her.  I
could sense that over the link.  She could feel my
anger very clearly.  What surprised me, as I later
thought through all of this, was that Sally didn't
sense it.  It was my first indication that their `link'
was imperfect and different for the two of them.  Only
certain things went between them, and they couldn't
sense the same things in me.  At the time, however,
that didn't mean shit.

What angered me most was that Sally had gone completely
submissive.  Again.  I recognized that at once.  It had
been a point of contention between us the last couple
of nights as we talked in bed.  I would remove her
collar and she would protest, ending with her softly
crying in the night beside me, her hot tears dripping
on my chest as we cuddled.  I could take a lot, but
when she cried, well, what can I say?  I let her tears
influence me.  OK, OK.  So I gave in completely.  Call
me a wuss.  You try it next time!

I tried to explain to her that I missed the `old'
Sally.  I told her what I had told Janey, that she
wanted this too much and I didn't think she was ready.
I knew I wasn't ready.  She didn't care.  She couldn't
get enough collar time.  She craved it after having
done without for so long.  She was like a kid with a
sweet tooth locked in a candy store at night with no
one else there.  She was an addict, and it changed her.
It scared the shit out of me.

I knew she thought she was trying to help me by being
the perfect submissive, but unfortunately, I wasn't
even close to being the perfect Master.  It wasn't a
`fit' that would work.  I needed the love of my life to
be the love of my life.  I was willing to make changes,
drastic ones to keep her, but I would not risk losing
her.

I was caught on the horns of a dilemma, with both of my
choices having a high probability of losing the type of
relationship with Sally that I needed.  It angered me
that Sally now seemed to `go sub' with anyone to get
her `fix', even another woman, in this case, Bala, the
sub and wife of my friend.  I didn't know or recognize
at that time that women - and men - could be either
dominant or submissive.  Or both or neither.  Like I
said, this was new to me.

Bala had been extolling the exquisiteness of the marks,
going in detail about the strength and control each
showed.  She had Sally hold up her tits with her hands
to Amud, putting them mere inches from his face.  In my
silent rage, I imagined his hot, fetid breath caressing
those orbs as he leaned forward, drooling down his
chin, soiling his expensive silken tie.  In actuality,
he could hardly breathe, he was so scared, and he moved
away from the temptation, not toward Sally.  I didn't
care.  I saw what I wanted to.

When Bala began touching Sally's tits, tracing the
welts with the tips of her finger, making suggestive
comments to Amud in their language, I thought Amud was
going to come in his trousers.  Sweat beaded his brow
and I saw him clenching his fists and teeth, trying to
maintain control.  It was obvious however that he was
extremely attracted to Sally and her tits.  But I
couldn't blame him for that.  Sally was an exceedingly
beautiful woman.

Janey finally reacted when Bala began fondling her
Mom's breasts, pulling out on her turgid nipples,
rolling them between her thumb and fingers.  When Sally
moaned in a small orgasm, Janey moved quietly from her
frozen position at the door and insinuated herself
between the other two women.  That seemed to snap them
out of whatever co-generated trance they were in.  Bala
suddenly realized the horrendous error she had made.
In her excitement, she had gotten carried away.  I knew
she had a good heart and only the best intentions.
Sometimes things don't cross the cultural lines that
well, however.

Sally pulled her top back together, somewhat
reluctantly, it seemed to me.  She took her damn sweet
time doing it.  It took forever before that last peek-a-
boo nipple finally bid us all adieu.  She had denied
that the humiliation Gary put her through had turned
her on, but it was obvious from the hardness of those
turgid points that she did not mind this mildly forced
exhibition of her body.  True, Amud and Bala were not
strangers and she was not being humiliated, exactly.

As she was led back to the women's quarters by a
frantic Janey, I saw her glance at the crotch of Amud's
pants, checking to see if she had an effect on him.  I
don't know what it is about women that they get
insecure at weird times.  But to me, that glance was
like pouring gasoline on a fire.  Somehow I contained
myself.

Bala, trying to make things better, threw herself down
in front of my pillow.  After several attempts to
communicate, she finally said, in broken English, "You
want more practice, use this worthless sperm catcher,"
and pointed to her own chest.  She had the sense now to
keep her own blouse closed.

Amud was even more embarrassed with that announcement,
so much so that he seemed to have been distracted from
his arousal at seeing Sally's bare chest.  He explained
that Bala, and he, were terribly embarrassed that they
had unknowingly breached a cultural protocol.  In their
country, these things were accepted.  In fact, Bala was
complimenting me on my quick learning of the handling
of the whip.  My anger and displeasure was apparent to
all but Sally.  His words helped, and though not
abated, my anger moved from the front to the back of my
mind, until it could be thoroughly and properly vented.
As will happen with good friends, the evening continued
and the events were ignored, if not forgotten.

We bid them good-bye, with both of them still acutely
chagrined at what had happened.  Sally and I both
reassured them that we wanted to see them next week,
and not to worry about it.  We watched their limo drive
off.  We stood there in silence, both dreading the
return to our lives, but for different reasons.  Janey
had filled Sally in on my reaction, and when attuned to
it Sally was able to pick it up on her link as well.

The storm clouds erupted as soon as the door closed.
Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled.  I was in a
rage.  I bellowed and yelled.  I thrashed and banged
around.  This is all very difficult to do when you
don't move a muscle or make a sound.

I don't recall ever having been so angry in my entire
life.  Not when a South American Colonel wanted me to
remain against my will in his establishment.  Not when
I had seen the photos of Gary touching and 11 year-old
Janey.  Not even at Steven, the boy who attacked Janey.
Never!  I shook.  I literally shook with the internal
tension.

My fury was palpable and must have been clear over the
link, as Sally and Janey followed me to the cellar
without a word, without protest.  I stripped both of
them without preamble, Janey, too.  I wasn't thinking
clearly.  I knew it, but at the moment, I didn't care.
I was angry, mad, furious, and I wanted satisfaction.
I wanted to hit something, hard.  I wanted someone else
to feel the pain I was feeling.

I tied both of them up, hanging them from the chains
attached to the joists.  I didn't even protect the
tender skin around their wrists as I hoisted them off
the ground, their feet several inches from the cold
concrete.  They dangled there, swaying slightly,
delicious targets for my anger.

I was in a foul mood and I was in dangerous territory.
I knew if I started on Sally, I would regret it.
Janey, innocent Janey, had been a non-participant in
the events of the evening that brought us to the
cellar.  I had no cause to hurt her, and even in my
rage I knew I couldn't bear to raise my hand against
her.

I went to the wall and selected the thong Bala had
given me.  She had used it on Janey before.  It was
soft and supple, almost like a feather when it slapped
against my palm.  It would take a lot to hurt her with
this, and that was not my intent.  I walked over to
where she was hanging, waiting quietly for me.  The
tensions were ripping through her tender teen body,
leaving her panting in the cool cellar air.  Just
before I started to vent my anger on her, I remembered
the gag Bala had used.  I lifted it to her.  She shook
her head, no.

I raised my hand to strike her.  Her quiet acceptance
of what I was about to do, even with the lightest
possible of implements, pierced my rage like a rapier.
I stood there for an eternity, my arm upraised, then
turned and left the dungeon.

I went jogging, running.  I left them hanging while I
beat up my own body.  Although I keep in shape, jogging
has never been one of my preferred exercises.  I find
it masochistic.  I think it's great if you like it but
my body strongly objects, both during and after when I
jog.

I don't recall how far I ran. It was late when I
returned to the cellar to check on my girls.  The
pounding of the pavement had vented the most of my
anger and I felt more in control.  Maybe there was
something to this running stuff after all.

I let Janey down and carried her up to her bed.  She
had been hanging for hours, senselessly.  Though she
had been brave and accepting, she must have been
terrified.  Tenderly I wiped her fevered, sweaty brow
with a cool towel, cooing to her, cuddling her to my
sweaty chest.  She woke up briefly and cocked her head,
as if trying to feel something.  She smiled wanly up at
me, sensing that I was back in control of myself.  She
was asleep before I left her.

I reached around to loosen her collar and she cried out
in her sleep.  Even in the face of my anger, she wanted
to keep her collar.  I understood she was not ready to
let go of this yet.

I tried to calm myself, convince myself that my anger
was gone.  It wasn't, but I had it under control.  The
rage I had felt had dissipated.  I slipped back down to
the cellar. Looking at my love's beauty soothed me as
cool water.

Sally tried to speak.  I silenced her with the doped
gag Amud had given us.  I hoped that whatever that
sauce did would be enough to get her though the night.
Her tears soaked into the leather of the band as I
tightened it around her head, pulling the gag in as far
as it could go.

Blindly, without forethought, I went to the wall with
the whips.  I picked up the one I thought would hurt
the most, yet not kill her.  It was a vicious
horsewhip, not designed for human flesh at all.  The
horrible lash could rip skin from the bone if used
carelessly or in anger.

I started in on Sally with no warm-up.  I was not
gentle.  This was not for her pleasure.  Or mine.  She
could not respond.  I did not want her to.  I could
hear her muffled cries behind the gag, but I did not
care.  I was walking a dark path with jealousy and rage
the only guideposts I could see in the darkness.  They
were dangerous guideposts in unfamiliar territory.

I yelled, I cursed, I cried.  I told her of the
heartache I had felt when she submitted, however
innocently, to another hand.  I told her how angry I
had been with her actions, her non-selective
submissiveness.  I told her how close I had come to
striking Janey in anger, and why I could not.  I told
her I never, ever wanted to strike either of them in
anger.  I told her she was the light of my life, my
reason for being.  I told Sally over and over that I
loved her, would always love her, regardless.  I ranted
and raved, cried and wept until I could not, then I
simply sobbed, holding her hanging body in my arms,
until I could no longer find any hint of anger within
me.

Stepping back from her, I dropped the whip on the
ground, unused, having never lifted it against her.  I
stepped up to her and thrust my iron hard prick into
her depths.  She was not well lubricated, but not bone
dry, either.  Yelling is not a particularly good form
of foreplay, regardless of its popularity.  My entry
filled her, supported her and helped ease the stress on
her arms.

I had the sense to wait for her to secrete enough
fluids so that I wouldn't rip her apart when I moved.
She was whimpering softly behind her gag.  I moved my
face next to hers as I felt her finally begin to
lubricate.

"Sally!"  She opened her eyes.

I thrust in sharply.  "I..."

I thrust again.  "...am..."

And again.  "...your..."  This word was said with
particular emphasis.

Once more.  "...Master!"

Her eyes widened a she heard what I was saying, and
understood why I was displeased with her.  She had
submitted to another, a Mistress.  She had been
exposed, vulnerable to another man.  It was a habit,
she was a submissive.  I was going to break her of
that, if at all possible.  She was mine.

I repeated my emphatic message to her, one word per
stroke.  And again.  And again.  Over and over I drove
that message into her.  Her eyes never left mine, their
sadness at her failure to please me overwhelming.  In
the end I shot my seed into her and held her tight.
After a time, my softening prick pulled free and I
heard the plop of dripping cum spattering on the cool
cellar floor.  I'm not sure, but I don't think she
climaxed at all that night, even with the doped gag.

I left her hanging there all night, gagged, suffering,
unfulfilled.  It was probably the only time in her life
she had had sex with a lover and didn't climax.  Then
again, I hadn't entered her as a lover, but as a
Master.  I lay down on one of the cots along the wall
close to her but out of her sight.  I didn't sleep.

In the morning I let her down.  Slowly, carefully I
helped her up to our bathroom and prepared a steaming
whirlpool.  She refused to let me put her in until she
had prostrated herself at my feet.  Her hand slipped up
to feel her neck, to see if my collar was still there.
She cried out in relief when she felt it was still
there.

"Master.  You are my Master."  She repeated that over
and over, sometimes sobbing, sometimes almost singing
it, as if to herself.  She hugged herself to my feet.

Finally, I reached down and touched her collar.  I
slipped my finger in between it and her neck.  The
extra tension caused it to choke her, cutting off her
air and the blood flow.  I lifted her to her feet, her
face to mine.  She did not struggle.

"You are mine.  Only mine."

She nodded, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Sally?  My Love?"

She looked up when I said her name.  I think my voice
quivered.  I know my hand was shaking.  I drowned in
those beautiful eyes. Her gaze did not hold the terror
for me I had expected.  To be honest, I wasn't sure
what I had expected to see in those sparkling green
eyes of hers.  Hate?  To be sure.  Terror?  Certainly.
Or maybe I'd see just a dull stare, an indication that
the life had been beaten out of her, her spirit broken.

I didn't expect to see what I saw: love, respect, hope.
Sure, a little fear and pain, but nothing like what I'd
expected.  If I hadn't believed in the link thing
before, I did now.  Only by her knowing my heart last
night could she have understood.  I would probably
never know for sure, but then, she was full of
surprises.  It was one of the main reasons I loved her
so deeply.  It also made what I was going to say trite.
She already knew it before I voiced it.

I said it anyway.  "You are forgiven. This incident is
forgotten."  That being understood, I unlocked her
collar and took it off her neck.  Her punishment and my
anger were behind us.

I helped her into the whirlpool.  The hot, swirling
waters began the slow healing process that would last a
long time, long after the visible marks on her wrists
had faded.

Sally stayed in bed for two days.  The experience had
exhausted her more than I realized.  I pampered her,
tending to her heartaches and pains.  Janey tried once
to help but Sally and I both refused her help.  This
was my responsibility.  I didn't keep them apart, as
she wasn't sick, so they chatted and talked, Janey
sitting on the end of the bed.  Sally never mentioned
what they talked about, but I don't think it was about
what happened that night.

Sally and I talked, too.  I think she finally
understood how scared I was of what she was becoming.
She admitted she didn't want to be the perfect slave,
it was just, well, so alluring.  Several things had
gone on in her life lately that made the escape into
that life comforting to her.  The attack on Janey was
not the first thing that had turned her life upside
down.  The first thing that had happened was me.  Her
feelings for me were so strong that they frightened
her.  She had never felt like this before.  As
frightened as I was of losing her, she was petrified I
would go away and leave her life empty of all meaning.
It was a new feeling for her, even at her age.

My introduction of bondage into the relationship during
the bet had thrown her for another loop.  I hadn't
known what I was doing, really, but didn't mention
that.  I had been desperate.  Then she had lost the
bet.  LOST!  Not that she minded, given that she now
had my ring on her finger, or soon would, but it
planted a seed of doubt if she would be able to control
me later on.  It had really rattled her, even though,
as the strength of my link grew, she realized how
focused and controlled I could be.

So it went.  We talked, we cried, we made love.  We
fucked savagely, the passions still raging in both of
us now.  Our emotions were raw and open.  In the end,
if you could call it that, we came to an understanding.
I was the Master.  Sally would be, at all times, my
love.  Only when the collar was on would I tolerate
submissive behavior in her, however.  Without the
collar, she was commanded to act normal, my `old'
Sally.  As twisted as this sounds, it worked for us.
She could be submissive to my wishes at all times, even
when not acting like it.

I didn't even pretend to understand.

Chapter 30

Time marched on.  The weekly visits from Amud and Bala
resumed without further incident.  Janey wore her
collar occasionally, even skipping some weekends she
was entitled to wear it.  Her social life was picking
back up and she was just too busy to be tied up all
weekend, pun intended.

Sally started getting back to normal, too.  Thank God!
Although I don't think Janey appreciated it.  Getting
back to normal meant that she now had time to focus on
her daughter's life, not just her own submissiveness.
I heard the two of them more and more, chatting,
laughing, chiding and chaffing; just normal parent-
teenager stuff.

At one point Sally even enlisted my help.  After her
last request for my help, she had tended to take things
having to do with Janey on herself, especially lately.
She seemed determined to show me that things were back
to normal.  I just grinned and let her for the most
part, mainly because teenagers were aliens as far as I
was concerned, and the females of that species were as
perplexing as human females.  It was also good for
Sally to know that she could do it herself.

This time, however, Sally was beyond herself.  Janey
had been coming home late from school.  Nothing unusual
so far, as she often had activities after school.  Her
cheerleading coach had called and asked where Janey
was, as she had taken a leave from the squad for the
entire basketball season.  Nothing surprising there,
given what had happened.  Then there was her refusal to
tell Sally what was going on, why she was late.  OK,
that was unusual, as were the tears and rips, crudely
mended, in some of her gym clothing.  She was also
spending a lot of time in the whirlpool after school,
alone.

Nothing Sally did convinced Janey to talk.  Threats,
promises, bribes to her friends, talks with the
teachers, nothing.  It didn't sound too serious to me,
but to keep Sally happy, I decided to look into it.
Sally made me promise to be discrete.  What?  Me?
Heavy-handed?

It took several days, but I found out what Janey was
doing after school.  I couldn't believe it, but she was
practicing with the boy's wrestling team.  For a while
I thought she was just hanging around trying to get a
cute boy's attention - as if she needed to do that!
But she went through all the drills with the team, and
even scrimmaged with the others in her weight class.
She lost, but she didn't do badly.  Like her mother,
she was a scrapper.

OK.  I knew what.  But why?  No amount of digging
revealed that to me.  I kept at it for several weeks,
during which time I didn't say a word to either of
them.  Janey went to practice everyday and, as I
watched her covertly, got better, much better, to the
point where she finally won a spot on the roster.

The day the roster was posted, I was waiting for Janey
outside the girl's locker room door.  Her expression
was priceless, much like a child caught with her hand
in the cookie jar, but not knowing how she was found
out.

"Uh, Hi, Dad.  Just driving by?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope."

"Oh.  Is everything OK at home?  Did Mom send you to
pick me up?"  She tried to sound worried, but didn't
succeed.

"Nope."

"Oh."  She was silent for while.  "You know?"

"Yep."

"Does Mom know?"  I could tell she dreaded that for
some reason.

"Nope..."

Her head whipped up to look at me at that.  Hope
flooded the car like a gully washer.

"...not yet."

"Oh, please Dad," she pleaded, "Don't tell her.
Please!"

"Tell me something, kiddo."  I turned to look at her.
"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wrestling?  Is it a guy?  Don't we give you enough
affection at home?  Why?"

Janey was so cute when she blushed and giggled.  Damn,
she was beautiful!  Who was I kidding?  "Oh, Daaaad."

I felt like I finally belonged to that great and
honorable club of patriarchs.  I had just exasperated
my teenager and been addressed in the proper fashion.

"Well?"

She looked at me, now thoroughly exasperated.  I wanted
an answer from her and wasn't going to take a cutesy
blush as a diversion.  It almost worked, though.

"It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

"It started as a dare."

Oh, shit.  I shuddered when I remembered some of the
things I had heard about - and participated in - that
started out with a dare.  Old Mrs. Johnson would never
be the same after waking up with 25 naked and very
obviously horny teenaged boys in her bedroom.  Well,
she was old to us.  25 is a lot older than 16...

"I see.  Who dared you?"

"Well, that's where it's confusing.  I guess I sort of
did myself.  You see, there was this cute guy..."

I knew it!

"...and he was, well, there was an argument about how
tough wrestling was and that's how come there weren't
any girls on the team.  I sort of got volunteered to
make the team if I could."

"Oh, a challenge, not a dare."  I felt slightly better,
but not much.  I remembered some challenges I had
participated in, too, mostly having to do with bare
chests at sub-zero temperature football games in
college.

"Yeah, I talked it over with the men's coach and he
said OK, as long as I had triple protection over my,
you know," she indicated her crotch, " and a double
strength athletic bra.  I talked to the women's gym
teacher - she thought I was crazy - and she helped me
get all that stuff.

"You know, wrestling's tough!" she ended.

"But you made the roster for the next match!  Aren't
you excited?"

"Geeze, Dad.  What do you do?  Know everything?"

"Only about the people I care about," I kidded.
"Seriously, your Mom was concerned and asked me to look
into it.  I did."

"It was nice to make the roster.  I earned it, too.
But I'm not too thrilled about my first match.  I have
to wrestle the defending State Champ, probably twice."

"Twice?"

"It's a double-elimination with four schools.  You have
to lose twice to be out.  I'm the only other one
entered in the weight class, so the rules say we have
to wrestle twice."

Something in her voice didn't sound right.  "What's the
problem?"

"Oh, it's nothing.  Just I heard when he found out he
might have to wrestle a girl, he made some pretty rude
comments about what he would do to me."  She started to
cry, little tears trickling down her face.

"You want me to stop your match?"

She shook her head.  "No.  I know it must be strange
for him, you know?  But why can't he just fight me like
a guy.  I mean, I know I'm not a guy, but dang it Dad,
why are some guys such big assholes?"

Now, how often do you get `dang it' and `asshole' from
your little girl in the same sentence?  She was
serious, too!  It was, however, an eternal question.  I
didn't know the answer, and knew if I said anything,
she would know I didn't know.  I said nothing.

We drove home in silence her only request was that I
not let Sally know.  I told her I couldn't promise to
do that.  I felt it was her Mom's right to know about
this.  But I told her I wouldn't spoil her match.

Friday night came.  Janey didn't come home as it was an
away match at one of the other schools.  I handed Sally
a big shopping bag and told her we were going out for
the evening.  She started to open the bag, but I
stopped her.  What was in the bag was for later.

It was unusual for us to go out, so she was excited.  I
think she was curious when I headed for a small town
about 25 miles away and not our usual bistro.  I kept
up a banal line of chatter for the hour drive, not
letting on what was up.

The fare at the local diner was a disappointment, but
the company was excellent.  I think Sally felt the same
way too, but now she was more curious than ever.  She
dropped hints, finally asking me point blank.  I
ignored both the hints and the direct hints.  As 7:30
approached I handed her the bag and told her she'd
better get ready.

Her face was a study in perplex ion as she pulled out a
big floppy hat, an over-sized pair of sunglasses and a
bulky shapeless overcoat.  I had her put them all on -
she was surprised she got to keep her other clothes on,
I think - and we headed back to the car.  She was even
more puzzled when we pulled into the crowded high
school parking lot.  I don't know if she noticed the
big yellow bus from Janey's high school in the lot, but
I parked right next to it.

The gym was a cacophony of noise as we entered as the
early matches already underway.  Behind her sunglasses
I could see her questioning eyes darting around trying
to discover what we were doing at a high school
wrestling match.  I could tell to the millisecond when
she spotted Janey.  I still have the bruises on my arm
to prove it.

"You knew what she was doing all along?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?  What the Hell does that mean?"

"Well, I knew what she was doing, just not why."

"Oh."

I was amazed to get away with that simple of an answer.
Sally knew my inquisitive nature.  She knew of my
protective instincts and the honor code I lived by.  If
Janey had asked me not to tell, I wouldn't, if I could.
I had known and that's all that mattered.  If Janey had
been in trouble, I would have intervened.  Sally had
asked for my help, after all.

"Well, you could at least have told me...."

I was going to hear about this for a long time, I could
tell.

They called Janey's match.  It was painful to watch.
The kid she fought really was good, but, as she had
said, he was an asshole.  He toyed with her.  He never
quite did anything inappropriate, but I could tell
towards the end that the referees were beginning to
watch where he put his hands on her body.  He pinned
her with 7 seconds remaining in the last period.  Like
a trouper, Janey shook his hand - after his coach made
the asshole come back out onto the mat - then she made
her way back to her school's bench.

Her team did her proud.  There were consoling "tough
match" comments and "he's a jerk" a couple of times.
They didn't treat her any differently than they would
another guy.  She held her head up proudly.  She had
fought hard, the best she could and she hadn't quit,
she had just been terribly out-classed by a better
athlete.  I saw her shoulders start to slump forward in
despair, then pull back in fierce determination.  She
wasn't going to quit now, either.

I looked over at Sally in her anonymous getup.  Covered
up the way she was, Janey would never have to know she
had been here if we didn't tell her.  She looked at me.
We nodded at the same time at the same thought.  It was
time to intervene, a parent's prerogative.  I was giddy
with excitement.  My first parental intervention!  OK,
not exactly giddy...

First thing I did was wander over to her coach.  I got
his attention and introduced myself.

"Can you get her to forfeit the second match, Coach?"

He looked at me as if I was loony.  "Janey?  Quit?  Are
we talking about the same kid here?"

I grinned back at him, "Just checking.  Sometimes
teachers have more influence than adults at home."

"I could refuse to let her fight."

Grinning like an idiot, I shook my head.  "Nah, I have
a better plan.  This is what I want you to do..."  He
nodded his head as he listened and even made a couple
of suggestions of his own when he saw where it was
headed.

Phase one completed, I initiated phase two.  I
recruited another father of one of the kids on Janey's
team and took him with me.  The coach had introduced us
and told him a little of the plan.  I finished briefing
him as we made our way over to a spot behind the kid
she had just fought.  We just stood there for a while
until the Emergency Medical Response Team showed up.
Someone had placed an anonymous call to their office.

"Thank God, they finally got here," I said loudly,
pointing them out.  "I was really concerned about that
poor kid who had to fight that crazy girl.  You
remember what happened the last time someone got her
mad, don't you?"

The other father chimed in, right on queue, "You mean
that poor bastard who lost his nuts when she kicked him
in the groin.  I heard the surgeon said they looked
like applesauce."

"Yeah, that one.  Well, at least the EMRT ambulance is
outside now.  If there's another incident, maybe this
kid won't lose both balls."

The other father piped up again, "What do you mean
`if'?  God, look at that girl kick!  I tell you, she's
crazy when she's mad!"

Just then Janey was going through the unusual warm up
routine the coach had told her to do.  She would
stutter step in a crouch like a linebacker, turning
around in a complete circle.  When facing her opponent
across the gym, she would come out with a hoarse,
fierce sounding scream.  Then, pointing her finger at
the kid, she kicked her leg as hard and high as she
could.  She did this routine four or five times.  On
the last couple of kicks, the upward force of her leg
flipped her over so that she landed on her stomach, a
three quarter backward somersault.

To say she had the attention of everyone in the
audience, including this poor kid, was to state the
obvious.  Her last kick was spectacular.  She did a
complete back flip, landing on her feet and ended up
facing the kid.  Then with both index fingers pointed
at him, she screamed in mock rage.  As a psych-out
move, it was very convincing, but still, I was counting
on the kid not being too bright.

I made my way back to Sally as they called Janey's
second match.  As I sat down, she just shook her head,
shaking in laughter as Janey charged up to the mat.
She didn't look like a loser this time.  The first
round started with them standing.  The kid was still
cocky, but a little jumpy.  He took Janey down easily
enough right away, but amazingly she escaped on her
own.  She was pumped, too.

Just as she got free from him, she started that stutter
step routine she had been doing in her warm up, only
this time, instead of turning in a circle, she circled
him.  In his attempt to keep her in front of him, he
turned with her.  At one point he stumbled.  It was the
opening she was looking for.  At that moment when he
was off balance, she pointed at him, screamed a blood-
curdling war cry and started to bring her foot up off
the ground in a straight-legged kick.

The poor kid never knew what hit him, which was
nothing.  He was so psyched out, he instinctively
slammed both of his hands over his family jewels and
screamed along with her.  Janey changed the upward
movement of her kick and took him down with a basic leg
sweep.  She had him pinned before he realized he was
still intact and unharmed.  The referee and the
audience were still laughing when Janey leaned over and
kissed him on the forehead.  Apparently, there is some
arcane rule about wrestlers kissing during a wrestling
meet, so even though she had won the second match,
Janey was disqualified from a third match.  She didn't
care.

It was the only match the kid lost all season, and
everywhere he went later on that year, his opponents
would grab their balls and fall on the ground screaming
during their warm ups.  I hope he learned something
from it all.  He did show some potential as a human
being, because after the match he came over and
apologized to all of us, especially Janey, for his
behavior during their first fight.  I think he even
asked her out, which she graciously turned down.  The
lucky bastard did get another kiss out of it, though.

For us, it was the end of Janey's wrestling career, so
don't look for her on the WWF.  It did change a couple
of things around the house, however.  Watching Janey
practice with those guys made me realize she wasn't the
fragile little blossom I sometimes let myself believe.
I mean, I know girls and women are as tough as men,
maybe not always as strong, but they certainly are as
tough physically.  Its just, well, I tend to try to
protect them from the hard things in life.  Call it
macho if you will, but it seems to be an instinctual
type thing that's easy to fall into.  That they - women
- often encourage that behavior doesn't help, either.

Anyway, I decided to take advantage of Janey's athletic
bent and started initiating more activities that
involved bodily contact, like one-on-one basketball,
rough-housing on rainy days, tag football with some
other fathers and daughters.  Things like that.  Non-
sexual solid body contact sports.  We even got Sally
involved, and it became a regular family outing for us.

The other thing that changed was that the boys at her
school, having seen her attitude at the wrestling match
about the attack on her, suddenly decided she wouldn't
castrate them if they dated her.  Our house became
Hormone Central in a short time, as her suitors hung
out.  With all that energy sitting around wasting, I
started organizing 2-on-2 and 3-on-3 basketball games.
Soon, our house was the center of the pick-up games,
with Janey always playing.  Other girls, jealous at
first, started coming over.  When they saw they could
get a good feel of the guy's bodies for the price of
playing, they joined in.  I've noticed it's hard to be
jealous and sweaty at the same time.  Granted, there
was a lot more close man-to-man, so to speak, defense
going on than necessary during the games, but
occasionally the ball would be tossed in the general
direction of the hoop.  I don't recall the kids ever
keeping score, however.

The kids even asked Sally and me to join in sometimes
to make even teams.  Sally played hard and kind of
dirty, copping feels of the young guys every chance she
got.  When the guys found that they could grab back
without her protesting, she became a regular.  I
particularly liked it when I got to guard her.  I was
sore for days from her elbows in my ribs and elsewhere,
but, God, the sex that night would be great.

That was the way things were going.  Janey was well on
her way to recovery.  I hoped I had played a small part
in that even if it was somewhat unorthodox.  Sally
seemed happy and active.  We kept some time reserved
for just us.  She needed the submissive time now that
it was possible, and I came to treasure those days
almost as much as when she was `normal.'  I began to
see `my' Sally in both sides of her, one merging with
the other.  It came to be much less of a shock to me to
see her in her submissive role.  As I became more
comfortable with that, those times together with her
being submissive became more frequent.  Still not as
often as she liked, but I think she appreciated them
more when she had to wait.

Janey would join us most times, usually for a portion
of the evening.  However, as there was always a strong
sexual content to these times, she would only be able
to participate to a certain point.  Sometimes things
would get too intense for her, and she would ask to be
released from her collar, but later on I would have to
be the one to tell her to go.  She was not voyeuristic,
mind you, she was an active participant in the
activities but I wasn't ready to have sexual
intercourse with her just yet.

She complained it was unfair to get her all hot and
bothered and then turn her out.  I retorted that life
was unfair, so shove it or something else up there.
Not my best retort, but given the fact that I had her
Mom's permission to fuck her, and that I wanted to, and
that she wanted me to, I wasn't thinking all that
clearly.  I just needed her out of the reach of my
throbbing cock before I started thinking with the wrong
head.  We both knew it could still happen that we would
have sex.  I just wanted to wait for exactly the right
time, and I didn't want her first time to be when she
was submissive.  Or maybe I was just still afraid I
would lose Sally if I actually did it with Janey.  I
usually ended up restraining her in her bed with some
of the Rosen's toys to keep her quiet, if not happy.

