Author: Old Softy
Title: The Collar Around the Heart
Summary: James is sixteen today, and his birthday present is pretty unusual. But the future is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Keywords: mf ScFi rom 1st slave bd oral anal
Part: Chapter 14 of 14

Chapter 1 is at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/The_Collar_around_the_Heart/The_Collar_1.txt

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains sexual situations not 
suitable for children. It may not be reproduced in any way where 
readers are charged for it. Copyright reserved Old Softy 2007 

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Chapter 14 - Later, Sunday Morning

My right foot was definitely too cold. That foot was disturbing the
layer of warm satisfaction that enveloped the rest of me. It must have
slipped out of the bed covers so I started to reach down to adjust
them, while trying not to actually wake up. No. I couldn't - there was
a weight on each shoulder, a weight that I mustn't disturb and, now I
thought about it, these were not my covers... 

It came back to me, and I carefully opened my eyes. The weight on each
shoulder was a head: blonde on the right and chestnut on the left, and
attached to each head was a warm soft body with arms and legs, and it
seemed that most of these were wrapped over me. So, improbable as it
seemed, last night was not a dream.

I rested my head back in the slightly musty folds of the old curtains
and closed my eyes again. Cautiously, so as not to wake them up, I
gently stroked the silken cushion shapes under each hand and luxuriated
in the feel of naked skin enveloping me. Memories were shifting in my
head. Had I really done that to Penny? And she, she could not have done
that with Annie! Then both of them at once! I grinned to myself. Only
five days since my birthday, and I would never in my wildest dreams
have seen myself here, now, with these two. Then who would have guessed
Penelope Jones had such a hot dirty side to her? Even as a virgin, she
was a wildcat. Christ knows what she would be like with a little
experience under her belt.

Virgins, I mused. Not much of my virginity left. Annie should have been
one. Liz had mostly been one. Madeline, of all people, actually was one!
I wondered if that was still true. I hoped not. And I wondered how
Charlotte had got on in her hunting.

Something stirred. I stretched and looked up. The left hand head had
eyes that were open, gazing at me.

"Good morning Master" said Annie, her sweet face grave as it sometimes
was.

"Morning, Annie" I whispered, smiling, but for once she did not return
the smile. Perturbed, but not quite sure why, I gently shook Penny's
shoulders, and was rewarded with a sleepy heart warming smile from her.
Her kiss was even nicer.

Getting up was a pleasant task of unwrapping velvet curtains from
smooth naked limbs and helping sleepy girls to find their underwear. My
pecker was worn out, and I was still glowing in the happy exhaustion of
someone who has been shafted to a standstill, but oh, so much beautiful
girl flesh! The tantalising delight of covering up those delightful
private places that been so openly at my disposal all night long!

The only little cloud in my sky was Annie's expression. She remained
distracted the whole time, until I had to stop her, dress in hand, to
ask her what was wrong. She stared at me for a second, and then just
threw herself to the floor with a soft cry. Where this had come from, I
had no idea. To my irritation she took up the submission posture, with
her head bowed so low her forehead was actually touching the floor.

She moaned, "Master, I have been so bad".

"Oh, no, not all this again," I exclaimed. "If you want me to use the
crop, just ask, all right? I really don't mind!"

"No, Master, this is terrible. It's not a discipline thing. This is
a... selling me away thing... and I will never see my Master again."
There were tears in her eyes and the catch in her breath was real. This
was actually serious.

"Annie" I stroked the side of her face, hidden in her hair. "Just say
it. You can trust me to be fair, whatever has happened."

"But, Master, I have betrayed you," whispered Annie, her voice
breaking. "I wanted to stay with you so much, and Miss Penelope is so
beautiful that I knew you would go for her. What if she turned me
away... and she said... huh... I just couldn't resist the idea of
belonging to both of you, but..." I realised with horror, that she was
scarcely holding back her sobs. "So last night... huh... when she
suggested..."

"NO!" interrupted Penny, and I looked over at her in surprise.

"But I must tell him, Miss!"

"No, I must tell him" returned Penny, in a voice both quiet and
determined, and before my surprised eyes, she too lowered herself to
the floor and took up the same posture as Annie.

She had only dressed as far as panties, suspender belt and stockings,
which of course made her look just sexier. As she knelt there, hands
behind her back with her cute buttocks on her heels, and her so
spherical breasts pushed out in front by her posture, I could not help
staring despite my bewilderment.

"James, I am kneeling to apologise, and to ask you to blame me, not
your collarmaid."

A bizarre thought struck me. It wasn't just collars who were taught
these positions, it was wives as well. If I married, this is how a wife
might kneel for me. I couldn't help it, despite my aching balls I was
getting aroused yet again.

"Last night, at the end of the ball, you may have noticed I took her to
one side." I heard Penny continue with determination, but I was not
concentrating on her. I was thinking; that I could handle this, no,
that I wanted to have this; that I wanted to have a girl sitting in
just that position because convention demanded it for her husband.
Maybe this marriage thing had something after all?

I pulled my attention back to what Penny was saying, and nodded, but of
course she could not see me. I sat down myself right in front of her,
and lifted up her chin so she had to look in my eyes. "Do you know how
ridiculous this is, and how sexy you look like that?" I told her,
smiling into her frown.

"This is serious, James" she insisted, but I could see the corners of
her eyes lifting.

By now I had swung my legs around her, shuffled forward and tucked my
ankles behind her back. My wedding tackle was just in front of her,
almost touching her knees. "So," I whispered, leaning in to kiss each
corner of her mouth in turn, "You will have to tell me in a serious
voice, then."

"Oh, you are impossible!" she grumbled. She was still maintaining the
formal posture, hands still locked behind her back, but now her knees
were against my balls and she was gently banging her forehead on my
shoulder. Annie watched us, mouth open, and I winked at her.

"Look, it's just... you know the first thing any new wife does is to
get rid of his collarmaid? She'll want to appoint her own, maybe not
quite so pretty" she looked up and pretended to frown at me "and
certainly with different loyalties!"

I nodded. I didn't know, but nothing would surprise me about how the
female species worked.

"So I made Annie a proposition, that if she helped me, you know, get
you interested, then I would keep her on if I won."

"Won what?" I was becoming intrigued, in spite of myself.

"Won you, of course!"

"What, for..." My jaw dropped as wheels turned in my head until the
penny dropped. "So all the time... and when I thought I was seducing
you..." I broke off, chuckling.

"James! We are trying to be contrite here, and you are not helping!"
snapped Penny.

I controlled my amusement. "So, when did you decide to set your sights
on me? It seems, Miss Jones, that once again you are doing the asking.
Indeed, many would construe this as a Proposal of Marriage!"

Her face had the strangest expression as I teased her. Then it hit me.
She wasn't joking. She wasn't joking, and was it so silly? After all,
Liz wanted me to marry well, and I could hardly do better than Penelope
Jones!

Liz! I had not thought of her since yesterday, and somehow I knew that
if I had any idea of what was good for me, she had better not find out
about last night. But she had told me that I needed to get married.

Then the images, no, the feelings, of this night just gone swam back
into my head, and I realised that I could not do it. Not to Penny, not
to Liz and not to myself. A week ago, I would have described Penelope
Jones as the ultimate trophy wife, but now something inside me knew
that if she were in my life then it would not be as a figurehead. I
could not put her in a sham marriage, and Liz was not going to go along
with anything else. Oh, hell.

Heart sinking, I disengaged myself, and stood up. She looked up into my
frowning face. "James?"

I couldn't look at her. "No. I'm sorry, Penny, I can't do it." My voice
sounded as leaden as I felt.

"But I thought... oh... Oh, of course." She stood up to get herself
together, and gathered random clothes in one hand. "Right then. Um...
I'll just..." She turned away. Her back was towards me, and huddled in
the corner she was as far away from me as it was possible to get in an
eight-foot room. She struggled with a petticoat in an uncoordinated
way, and I could see that her hands were shaking. God, how many hours
ago was it, that I'd promised I would never hurt her?

"Penny, let me explain."

"No, no, I understand. Silly of me, don't know what I was thinking of.
Let me just..."

"Boss!" broke in Annie "The fone!" What could she mean? I had left my
fone in the dressing room. Any way, what good was a fone without a
screen? But now she was talking disjointedly, as if to someone else not
me. "He is perfectly alright, Sir... We are in the cleaners store on the
ground floor... At the end of the corridor behind the main hall... Yes,
of course Sir!"

I looked at her carefully, her head cocked, listening carefully to some
invisible silent person. It was all too much to take; she had finally
flipped. "Annie," I said cautiously "are you alright?"

"... Yes Sir... See you soon Sir... And Sir,... thank you so much Sir"
She stopped gabbling, and looked up at me to beam in triumph. "It was
your Father, on my collar fone! It works!"

It took a few moments to work it all out. My parents had become
concerned over our absence this morning, and after searching the more
obvious places, had eventually come looking for us in the dressing
room. There they had found my fone and plugged it in. They had been
scrolling down the contacts list to see who I might be with, when they
came across the entry for Annie. More out of curiosity than out of hope
they had tried it, and Bingo! They were going to be here in two minutes.

"Come on everyone, time to get dressed!" I called, and there was a
flurry of clothing as we raced to get ready.

It was more like three or four minutes than two, and it took another
three or four minutes to drill out the damaged lock from their side,
which was just as well. When the handle turned and the door finally
swung open, we were standing side by side, and looking quite
presentable. Both my parents were there, and when they rushed in and
hugged me I could not help hugging them back. The Geoffrey was also
there, standing with the drill swinging from its hand looking awkward
but grinning inanely.

It was after the greetings and garbled explanations that I noticed
Mother look around and sniff, and I realised what she could smell. The
warm fug of a small room that three people had slept in, the odour of
busy bodies, and... sex. The reek was unmistakable, now the fresh air
from outside provided a contrast. She looked at me with raised
eyebrows, and I grabbed her elbow to drag them out of there. "Come on,
let's get you all home" she concurred, the corner of her mouth lifting
as she glanced at me.

--I was stunned. Was this the mother I knew? Because as she closed the
door and jiggled it shut behind us, she and I were facing away from the
others, and she smiled and gave me a completely unambiguous wink.

With five of us in the back of the limo we had to fold out the rearward
facing seats, the ones of the back of the partition to the driver's
compartment. The glass window was open, so Geoffrey would have been
able to hear everything, but my parents had never bothered much with
"not in front of the servants." Mother started on us first of course,
but unusually, Father kept interrupting and our story was a mess of
conflicting questions and interruptions until we all let Penny get on
with telling the tale from the beginning. She was much better at it
than I would have been, although she did inflate my part in it
completely out of proportion. It was quite embarrassing hearing someone
else relating what I had done last night, as if I was some kind of hero.

Father had some very explicit questions about the whole thing with
Murdoch. "Who was standing there when he got the gun out of the car?
Did you notice? Could you get me names?"

"Gussie Fink-Nottle, for one, and I think Roberta Wickham was there. My
Mum would know," replied Penny after thinking about it.

"We must make sure Marjory is all right!" cried Mother.

--"More useful to find out if Cribbens and Burke escaped without
permanent damage," muttered Father to himself. He carried on. "You
realise what this means, James. Sheriff Murdoch is going to have an
interesting time explaining all this. You know the rivalry between the
Guards and the Sheriffs Department. The Guards never were keen on
letting the rozzers have live handguns, and this will have played right
into their hands. I am going to make a few fone calls when we get back,
and I might want you to explain your story to an acquaintance of mine."

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We were back before we knew it. Mr. and Mrs. Jones were waiting in the
drawing room, having come over while looking for Penny. Mrs. Jones was
none the worse for wear, although the two goons had escaped Scott free
despite my father's prediction. There was more cheerful chaos as the
explanations and interruptions were repeated. Father and Mr. Jones
immediately got into a huddle in one corner, and then tried to use the
drawing room screen to fone someone.

But the girls and I had a different shock in store - there on the
screen was the front page of the Hertfordshire Tattler, featuring,
guess what - myself, in full swing on the dance floor last night! With
more interruptions and congratulations I managed to get the gist of the
spread, featuring the latest hot fashion sensation - "Beau Brummel", as
introduced at the Coming Out Ball of Mr J Pilsbury and Miss P Jones,
complete with clips of Annie looking smoking hot. It was only now, on
the screen, that I saw the effect of what we had done.

Take an actual woman, with real breasts and figure, wrap her in sheer
clinging silk to show off the curves, and then put a collar and chain
on her. She was like a tethered goddess, but it was her expression that
sealed it. Just as well she did not always look at me like that!

And watching myself was even more disorienting. It was as if a handsome
stranger had borrowed my face, and was striding around the Cricklewood
ballroom with a trail of broken-hearted debutants in his wake.

The picture was completed with the interviews of a couple of young
debs, hastily rearranging their hair and smoothing down their plain
petticoats in a poor imitation of Annie's amazing dress, exclaiming in
surprise "Didn't everyone know about the new Cricklewood scene?" I was
pleased to see they got a good shot of Petunia actually looking quite
sexy in just her slinky white slip, and explaining how the trick was to
come in a ball gown with quick release fastenings so you could whip it
off at the just right moment.

Best of all, was the commentator's shocked voice decrying the latest
shocking behaviour of young debs, while the camera wandered laviscously
over the body of the half dressed girl with the rope around her neck,
kneeling at the feet of her man. Pretending to be a collar was going to
be the daring social trick of the season. They had fuzzed out the girl's
face 'to protect her identity' (for which read - add dramatic impact)
but I recognised the ornate braided rope, and the white tablecloth. It
was Madeline.

Mother shooed Mr. Jones and my poor father out to his study so she
could use the drawing room screen connection to fone Mrs. Haversham,
and Mrs. Jones crowded at her side.

Me? I just stood there bemused, and let it all flood around me. It was
funny how you needed something like last night to appreciate home. The
smile on my face was completely unwarranted, and I could not take it
off.

Then, through the babble of Mrs. Jones in full flight, Mother on the
fone to Mrs Haversham, and the audio still blaring out the commentary,
Annie interrupted me by clutching my elbow. "Boss," she hissed. "He's
here!" I was about to tick her off for being obtuse but one look at her
stricken face silenced me. Filled with curiosity and a little alarm, I
allowed her to drag me over to the window, where together we peered out
at the back garden.

When she pointed him out I could see him clearly. There, in the bushes,
was the dark ruffled hair and ugly visage of Murdoch himself. "What the
hell is he doing here?" I asked Annie, rhetorically, my mind racing.
There was only one way to find out. "Tell my Father," I instructed
Annie, and I headed for the back door.

What was he trying to do? Was he still armed? Of course, he was
presumably trying to get at me, or - more likely - Annie! Killing or
even injuring a gentleman would have big repercussions. But if some
collarmaid were to get hurt, what sort of investigation would there be?
Very little, and if anyone got into trouble it would be me. A cold fury
started to fill me as I carefully opened the door.

I was not careful enough. He had been watching for any movement and saw
me straight away. I almost ducked back in and hid behind the door, but
then thought - damn it. My days of hiding from this bully were over.
Opening the door wide, I marched out into the open.

Of course he still had the revolver. He raised it in front of his
scowling face and pointed it at me. The two of us stood, frozen,
perhaps two dozen yards apart

Oddly, while part of me was full of blind fury, refusing to back down
from this piece of shit, some other part of me was running on overtime,
coldly calculating the odds. He looked a mess. Some was what we did to
him last night, but the hours since then had not been kind to him
either. It was too far for a good shot, and I knew he was a hopeless
marksman. Now I needed to keep him occupied, without letting him get
away or hurting someone.

"Put it down, Vince." My voice sounded remarkably calm as I slowly
stepped towards him. "You haven't hurt anyone, yet. Nothing your dad
can't patch up. But if you pull that trigger..." All the time I was
slowly walking, no strolling, towards him. This was where it got
dangerous. It was too far for me to reach him, but close enough for him
to hit something. But I just knew that coward as he was; he was planning
on hurting the girl not me. If he had really wanted to shoot me he would
have tried already.

The cold part of me was busy counting something. One in the car park...
one in the outer door... one in the corridor... two in the storeroom
door... one at the other people... six! Now, what were the chances that
he had actually checked, or got hold of more ammo?

"What's it all about, Vince? You don't like me. I don't like you. Why
don't we just settle it now? Take a swing at me! You know you want to."
I was almost up to him by now, and he had stepped out of the flowerbed
onto the lawn. I could see him actually thinking about it. The barrel
of the gun drooped a fraction.

I lunged and slapped it out of his hand. It was amazing that such a
desperate move worked, and the sting of the metal on my fingers
galvanised me. I dived after it as it flew across the grass, and
reached it miles before he did.

I was up again like a jack in the box, while he was still grovelling on
the ground, stretched out full length.

"Hold it right there, Vince." I growled. "The tables seem to be turned
now, don't they?"

He rolled over on his back and stared at me with wide eyes. "Come on,
Pilsbury. Let's be reasonable." His voice did not sound the way it used
to, in those days so long ago, back in school.

"Reasonable, Vince? You tried to shoot me. Tried quite hard. Then you
tried to shoot someone I am very protective of, and I take exception to
that."

"You wouldn't kill me. You haven't got it in you. You aren't any keener
to end up in a collar than I am." The words should have been delivered
in a voice of cold arrogance, but instead they trailed off into
uncertainty. He couldn't stop me from hearing the fear in his voice. I
was reminded of the way young Emily had sounded, with her head twisting
under his hand on that desk lid, still not believing what was about to
happen to her.

It was very cold in that garden. Cold, and still.

"Kill? Oh, no Vince, not kill. But a little accident, while the two of
us were tussling over that gun you stole?" I moved right over him. The
safety was already off, and as I cocked back the hammer, it made a
quiet clunk. It was a solid, satisfying sound. "Whereabouts, now. Foot?
Ankle? The knee caps are supposed to be particularly painful and
difficult to rebuild."

As I spoke, I shifted the barrel and moved the aim slowly up his leg. I
kept going past his knee and his eyes widened in horror as I trained it
on his groin. "Of course the real trouble is that you have been letting
your prick lead you around. Maybe I should bring it down to size for
you."

His face went white as he stared, immobilized, at my finger wrapped
around the trigger. I tightened it slowly, letting him see the tension
in my knuckles. "Say goodbye to your balls, Vince" I whispered, and
pulled.

Thinking back on it, I always liked to think that I flicked my aim
aside at the last second - that if there really had been one last
bullet in the chamber, it would not actually have hit him. I liked to
think that. Whether I really did it in time we will never know.

At the empty click of the hammer, he gasped, and fell back. I dropped
the gun and let my shoulders sag. Looking up I suddenly saw the crowd
of people, lined up outside the door. Everyone had come out of the
house and they were standing watching the drama.

I glanced back down and kicked the sole of his boot. "Well, here he
is." Then I sniffed, and stared at him harder. "Oh, god, he's shat
himself. He's all yours." Suddenly I was completely exhausted. Shaking
my head I walked back towards the house, through the wall of faces,
past Father telling the Geoffrey to get a rope, right into Mother's
anxious hug.

"Don't ever..." she shook her head, "don't ever do that again."

I laughed, and even managed to stop it before it became hysterical. "If
it ever looks likely, you have my full permission to sit on me." She
managed a wan smile and hugged me tighter. "Come on," I said, passing
her my handkerchief. "We had better get presentable." She blew her nose
like a trumpet, shook herself, and right before my eyes, transformed
back into the society hostess I knew and loved.

"What we all need is a good cup of tea. In the drawing room, everyone!"
she called brightly, and bustled off to organise things.

I paused at the study door on my way past. Father was on the fone
again. Around the door I could just see the image of an imposing man
with a face of white whiskers and a black uniform on the screen. "Yes,
right here in the back garden!... No, I don't think Murdoch will
abandon the boy. He may be a cold-hearted bastard but blood is thicker
than water... Yes, I agree. It would be better if we just offered him
the chance to disappear quietly... That's a nice touch. How quickly can
you arrange a Banishment?... How about Wales? He and the Welsh deserve
each other." There was the quiet laughter of a private joke shared.

I slipped away, unnoticed. I would ask Father when everything had
settled down, but right now it did not sound as if we were going to
have to worry about either Murdoch again.

The drawing room was crowded once more, with everyone back in from the
garden. There were too many voices talking at once and I was too tired
to make the attempt to sort any of them out. Then suddenly, amongst the
shifting bodies, I was face to face to Penny and everything else in the
room faded.

She dropped her eyes, unable to look me in the face, and it was as if
someone were twisting my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak and then
stopped. I took her elbow and she raised her eyebrows as I propelled
her out of the room. By the time she got round to objecting, we were up
in my bedroom.

"I can't believe what you did out there," she said in tones of wonder.
"You're so... James, I just..."

Why could I face Vince Murdoch with a gun when I couldn't look at
Penny's face right now?

"Look, we have to talk about... us." I started. There was no immediate
answer. She had moved over to the window and was looking out at the
back garden. Funny, from here I could see the scrape on the lawn where
I had made my dive, what seemed hours ago.

I realized that at some stage she had washed and changed. Someone,
presumably Mother, had loaned her some new clothes and she looked
really good in a simple cream blouse and a long blue skirt. Just like
last night, blue suited her, I decided. Her hair was down, half hiding
her face, and it shone golden in the light from the window. She looked
so clean and wholesome I wanted just to kiss her. But I could hardly
approach her in my current state. In complete contrast to her, I was
still in my poor old Armani. Crumpled, sweat attained, and now with
grass stains down the front, Mr. Brummel would hardly have approved.

"Penny."

She turned to face me, but, unfathomable, still avoided my eye.
Suddenly I was aware I was alone with her, with not even Annie in the
room. It seemed silly, given that I had spent the previous night with
her, mostly in her, but for the first time since Thursday there were
just the two of us, alone with no distractions.

"Okay, our mothers," she sighed. "We have to decide between us, what to
tell them. "

"No." I returned flatly, and she looked up in surprise. "Not them. Us.
We have to agree what to tell each other. What to tell ourselves." She
shook her head slowly. When I stepped in front of her, and gazed into
her face, she tore away from me and returned to the window.

"Please... please don't. Do you know what it does to me, to look into
your eyes? I want so much, so much, to... to throw myself at your feet
and wrap my arms around your knees." she said, shaking her head, and
clutching the windowsill.

The girl must have taken leave of her sense. "Hey, I'm not worth
agonising over." I reassured her, resting my hand on her shoulder but
not turning her around. "Look, that boy... man... last night was a
fiction, you know that. He wasn't me. You don't know me, and if you
did, you wouldn't want me."

"Oh no?" she sighed. "But he makes up part of you. And the rest..."

"But the other part of me is the snotty kid you always teased and made
fun of," I pointed out.

"Was I that horrible when we were little?" she asked. "I didn't
realise. I..." she took a deep breath. "Of course part of the trouble,
was that I always had a bit of a crush on you, even then."

"What?"

"Yes, well, I suppose it was not a very clear way of expressing it. You
fascinated me, and teasing you was the only interaction I could conceive
at that age."

"What?"

"That and the dirty little fantasies."

"What!"

"Hey, you could try to keep up your end of this conversation, you
know." At least she had recovered a bit - I could hear her voice
smiling. I, on the other hand, was reeling from what she had just
revealed. What did she mean by 'fantasies'? I cleared my throat, but
couldn't think of anything to say except "what?" which didn't seem to
fit the bill.

"I have been horny since I was ten." she stated in a matter of fact
voice, still looking out the window, "and I have been masturbating
since I was twelve." She risked a sideways glance at me. I was still
open mouthed. "All of my so-called friends, all the boys I knew, were
as boring as hell. You were the one, the dirty little pikey who would
never do what he was told, you were the excitement."

I tried to remember myself as a twelve year old. "You must have been
desperate," I said, not joking.

"Ha, maybe. Look, I knew it was fantasy. I mean it was pretty..." she
sounded uncomfortable..."far out, completely unrealistic." I kept quiet
and she carried on. "Mostly about you doing dirty things to me when I
couldn't resist. Not exactly rape, after all I hardly knew what sex
was, but I think it was important to me that whatever twisted scene I
could imagine, somehow it had to be your fault."

"Like?" I could not help asking.

She shrugged but did not sound any more relaxed. "When I was in bed I
would imagine you were sleeping over, and that you had crept in while I
was asleep and lifted up my nightdress to look at my little pussy. That
feeling of your eyes on my private parts, while I was pretending to be
asleep... Or there was the one where I am leaning out the window and
the sash cord breaks and the windowpane falls on my back and traps me
on the sill. You come in, and there is just my legs and bottom in the
room, wearing a big flounced skirt of course, and you draw the curtains
so I can't see you, and then you lift my skirt..."

"And you were twelve, when you thought of that?" I asked incredulously.

"Well to start with it was just you... tracing the curve of my bottom
with your fingers, and exploring me, between my legs, just like I was
exploring myself for real. But a year or two later, when I had
discovered how it all worked. I started adding in your, you know,
thing, and what it would feel like to have it pushed into me, and then
I kept adding bits as I read or heard about things, so now the whole
fantasy is quite long."

"Long! As in plot and character development?" I scoffed, incredulous.

By now she was looking really uncomfortable. "Well, by the time I
thought about the bondage..."

"BONDAGE!" It was becoming apparent that the wanton harlot I remembered
from last night had not been a figment of my imagination.

"Just, you pulled my legs apart, and so you had to keep them like that
by tying my ankles to the radiator. And the spanking..."

"WHAT!"

"Hey, don't start that again. You only did it to keep me quiet, to stop
me from calling out. Only, your hand wasn't enough; I was enjoying it
too much, so you had to get my school ruler. Just a bit of discipline.
And it made such nice straight marks on my bottom."

"Gagh!!!" I managed to bite back the "what" but not to say anything
coherent.

"And you needed to discipline me to get me to agree to the other
stuff... the... sodomy..."

"!!!"

Her eyes were closed and her voice had gone dreamy. "I lie forward over
the back of my chair, you know, so I am in the right position, and I put
my feet wide apart, and I lift my skirt pretending it's you and then I
shut my eyes and my fingers become yours, and my dildo becomes..."

Now it was clear what Annie and I had unwrapped in that eight-foot room
last night. "Stop there." I interrupted quietly but firmly, twisting her
around to face me, and stared into her glistening blue eyes. "Enough."
The room froze.

She fell onto me and wrapped herself around me. "But it's not enough
James. I want more. I want the real thing. I want..." Now she had slid
down, and was, as she had threatened, kneeling at my feet with her arms
around my knees. Suddenly, desperately, she was crying as she scrabbled
at my crotch, trying to get the buttons undone.

"Hey, hey, hey." I said, kneeling down to be the same height and
wrapping my arms around her to trap her, to stop her, to hold her.
"Stop this now. We must control this, and we have to talk. We'll do it
later, if you decide you really want it, but now we have to talk."

She nodded, sniffing, and relaxed against me. "Okay" I continued. "I
don't know what to say about what you have just told me. Let's just sit
here, and try to sort things out." I sat with my back against the bed
and pulled her down next to me so my arm was around her shoulders.

She gave a big sigh. "It's all so frightening. I am so horny, all the
time these days, and all the boys my Mother throws at me are so
hopeless and then you come along last night, and you are like every
sixteen year old girl's wet dream come true with your collargirl and
your Armani and... then you... God, what you did... I still can't tell
if the stuff you did to me last night was a fantasy." She sniffed
again, and lifted my arm to use my cuff to wipe her eyes. Calmer now,
but still hugging my arm, she continued.

"But it wasn't, was it, and you... you're a man, James, a real man and
if I had thought about it, I would have realised that Vince didn't
stand a chance. I still can't believe the risk you took out there, but
at the same time I can see how it was inevitable that you would win. He
always looked so tough, and acted like the big man. He always appeared
to have the whiff of danger that made the girls pine for him. But
really he is just a nasty little boy, a vicious creep, while you... You
are the real thing, James."

She carried on in a rush, as if to get it out before she could stop
herself. "Then... you seemed to like me and... it wasn't just my
imagination, maybe you might have actually asked me to marry you - no
day dream - and you are so perfect my Mum would have wet herself with
excitement, and I would have had you for myself for ever! Except you
don't actually want me, do you, and I know things like that don't
really happen, so it must be wrong anyway, and so I'm just fooling
myself, and then there's that prole girl Liz, you must be in love with
her and... I don't know... I DON'T KNOW!"

Now she was sobbing, crying in earnest. I just held her and waited for
the storm to pass. I could not help it, but even while I was sitting
there, trying to comfort her, I was reveling in the warm feel of her
body under my arm. It was so right for it to be there, so good.

"All right," I started, when she seemed calmer (and my shirt cuff was a
great deal wetter), "what do we know? Penelope, you are the most
wonderful girl I have ever met. I admire you. I like you. I trust you.
And last night you seemed to trust me." Her face started to scrunch up
- she was fighting tears at the reminder. "Hey, none of that," I said
sternly and squeezed her shoulder.

"Look, never mind the sex, do you actually like me?" I queried. She
sniffed again and nodded. "We had an alliance that worked. We had a
connection. Doesn't that mean we really can trust each other?" She
nodded again. "We could start with that. With that trust." Her face,
looking up, was puzzled. "I would promise never to deceive you, and to
always to be on your side; to support you if you needed help, as a
friend. Could you handle that?"

"Oh, yes please," she breathed. "Friends." She paused and her face fell
again. "Just friends, then?"

"Maybe not" I smiled. "But at least friends, always."

She nodded seriously. "That would be really good. Better than any of my
other 'friends'. Chances of them refusing to deceive me..." She muttered
darkly, but then her face lit up. "Like a best friend, then? I've never
had that sort of bond before. Is that how it is with you and Liz?"

Liz. Yet again, I had forgot about Liz, that magic imp of a girl who
had introduced me to sex in the first place. But so what! Damn it, I
wasn't going to give up knowing Penny for her; she would just have to
live with it. I thought uncomfortably of how things stood with us, the
old gang, and wondered. What was Liz offering me, and what would I (and
Rob) have to give up to see it happen?

Suddenly the air was cold and clear. All that I thought I knew and felt
about Liz, and about Rob, fell to pieces - fell to pieces and floated
back together again, in a different pattern. Now I knew what I was
going to tell Liz, and it would not be want she wanted to hear, but
maybe it was what she needed to hear. And I knew what I was going to
tell Rob. I would help him in every way I could, and not just with
getting him a decent job and a place of his own. If we couldn't get Liz
to say yes to him it would not be for want of trying.

"Yes." I said confidently. "Yes, it is." Then, still thinking of Rob
and Liz, I carried on "And to hook up with a 'best friend'; if you
really fancy them, that would be pretty good, wouldn't it?" For some
reason Penny made no reply. In fact her face had fallen and she was
suddenly as stiff as a lump of rock.

Uncertain I mused "And then... there's you and me." Now I had to face
it. For she had laid her hopes and fears out on a plate, and, if I was
honest, mine were the same. This girl, this amazing, sexy, fuckable
cunt of a woman, was also the arrogant snob I had known and hated all
these years, and was also the vulnerable young lady pouring her heart
out and openly declaring her adoration for me. Dare I believe it; dare
I grab what this seemed to be?

"The sex was pretty good. I mean I know it's usual these days for
people to get their jollies outside their marriage, but still " I
meandered, prevaricating while my mind struggled with the enormity of
what was in front of me.

"James, I'd do anything for you, be yours on any terms. But is that
what you would want with Liz?"

"Liz?" I repeated, puzzled. What was she suggesting, that I keep
shafting Liz? "Well, you know I went with her on Friday and I won't
pretend I didn't enjoy it. But then after last night... if we were
married, I don't think I would want to do it again."

"What? But that's perverse! Not even once or twice? What about
children?"

Now I was completely confused.

"Children? Whose children?"

"Your children, you idiot!" Clearly she was edging past querulous out
into angry, but I still had no idea what she was on about.

"I don't have any children. You know that. I'm only sixteen for
Christ's sake."

"James. Don't do this." It came out furious and frozen at once. "Break
my heart if you must, but don't mock me."

"Penny?" I said, desperately, "Friends? Trust? Please, I don't know
what I've said, but if it hurts you I don't think I meant it."

She looked at me. "You want to live with Liz as your Mistress, marry me
on the side for show, and not even bother with children" she spat,
glaring.

I stared at her in confusion. Then understanding dawned, and I could
not help the grin.

"Penny, I don't want to live with Liz, I want to live with you. I
intend to wish the best of luck to Rob and Liz, whom I hope might get
together, and I was thinking we might go for children the old fashioned
way. With lots of practice." It was beautiful to watch her face change;
like sunshine sweeping across a meadow as hope chased caution from her
eyes. And with it I realised that my decision had been made ages ago,
probably last night, and that my balls and my body and my heart had
just been waiting for my head to catch up with them.

"What, do you mean... ?" she asked carefully as if not daring to jump
to a conclusion.

"Look why don't I start again. What we need here is an actual
proposal." I stated, and swivelled around on my knees so I was facing
her square as she sat against the bed. It was handy that I was already
kneeling.

"Penelope, you are amazing and beautiful. I can hardly believe that I
might get to keep you in my life. If I promise never to deceive you,
never to hurt you, to always to be on your side, and to be a sixteen
year old girl's wet dream at least some of the time; will you marry
me?"

--A slow smile started from the corners of her mouth, and then like
fire whooshed across the whole of her face. "Yes yes yes YES!" she
cried, clutching me, and her kiss was itself like fire, consuming the
two of us.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"So it was far from a waste of time, our ball" she said, ten minutes
later, as she peered in my mirror to straighten her hair. "Fancy; both
of us - then you know Charlotte accepted Charlie Harrison, and my
Mother just told me that Maddie is betrothed to Bradford Smith of all
people. Beanpole Smith! Just wait until I see her tomorrow. I am going
to take her apart over that one!"

Concerned for Madeline, I remonstrated. "No, leave her alone Penny. I
know it seems strange, but there are reasons why it is not as silly a
match as it might seem."

"Silly! You must be joking. Either she has taken leave of her senses,
or old four-eyes has a dick a foot long. What would you know anyway?"

"Just leave it," I repeated with a warning note to my voice, more than
a little dismayed to see the old Penelope rearing her ugly head.

"So, what is Maddie to you? Hold on, didn't I see you going off towards
the Mayor's Parlour with her last night? You... you got up to something
with her, didn't you? Admit it!" She glared at me.

For a second I pulled back guiltily, looking for an excuse, or, even
worse, for a plausible lie. Then I shook my head to clear it.

I had spent most of my life hating my Mother as much as I loved her
because of her domineering way. I was not going to allow that to happen
again. This was a new relationship. Both of us would have to change and
I was determined that it was to be for the better.

"What have you got to say for yourself, you little... er?" she stopped
puzzled as I reached out and took her left earlobe between my thumb and
forefinger. Gripping it firmly, almost but not quite pinching, I pulled
her by the ear over to the chair and watched her knees collapse her
into it. Her hand came up to mine as if to detach it.

"Drop it!" I grated, and her hand obeyed and fell back to her lap,
while she looked on, stunned. "On Monday, you are going to congratulate
Madeline, and mean it. Not because you need to learn how to be generous
to other people, although you do. Not because Madeline now has a chance
of turning her screwed up life around, although she does. Not because
she and Brad should be wished all the joy in the world." I stared down
into her eyes. " All these are true, but you will be nice to her,
because I say so."

I watched her blue, blue eyes go wide - and the tears gathering at the
corners. Oh, hell, I had been betrothed for all of ten minutes and I
had blown it already. Holding my breath, and holding my courage I
released her ear and waited for the explosion. But instead, she sat
back and looked at me cautiously.

"Is this what being married is going to be like?" she asked. "James, I
don't know if this is going to work. I can't be a meek little mouse for
you, and if you are going to ride roughshod over me every time I want to
do anything or say something..."

"Penny, nothing could be further from my mind," I said firmly. "Don't
you remember the best words of flattery I could come up with?
Magnificent. Awesome. That's how I think of you, and that's what I want
of the woman I marry. But, if she is going to be petty or vindictive, or
indulge in any other behave unworthy of her, then I am going to stop
her."

Her face slowly shifted to an expression of wonder and, yes, of
happiness. She leant forward and wrapped her arms around my hips, with
the side of her face warm against my middle. "You are not the least bit
frightened of me, are you? Instead, now I have to do what you say," she
said into my stomach. She gave an enormous sigh. "Oh James, do you know
how long I have waited for this? All my life, I have got what I wanted.
At school none of the teachers ever dared go against me, never mind the
pupils. I have been able to wrap my Father around my little finger since
I could smile, and my Mother and I have spent all my life squabbling
over who was going to be the queen bitch of the house. I have pushed
and bullied, and all have let me get away with it. Until you." I
stroked the back of her head. Her hair, silky smooth, fell like warm
glass through my fingers.

"It's like you have lifted a great weight from my shoulders. I have
liked myself less and less recently, yet I just couldn't stop the way I
behaved. But now... You will look after me wont you? I know I have
agreed to be your wife, and with all my heart I tell you I mean that.
But can I ask more of you? Will you take charge of my life, and stop me
when I need to be stopped, and discipline me when I should be? Will you
be, not just my husband, but my lord?"

I stood, motionless, with the feel of this woman's arms around my waist
and her hair in my fingers. This was not for a date, or a supper party
or even a good shafting. This was for the rest of our lives, and she
wanted to put her happiness and my happiness on my shoulders. What
could I do? What could I do but tighten the fastenings on my wings,
take just one look over the edge - and step off?

--"I will."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

We could not stop looking at each other as we walked down the
staircase, hand in hand. She was so beautiful, and looked so proud and
so happy. I wondered if I looked the same.

Annie was sitting on the bottom step, shoulders hunched over. At the
sound of our footsteps she turned round, took one look and leapt up in
glee. "Tell me, tell me," she demanded in excitement.

I laughed. "Annie, I am pleased to say that Miss Jones has done me the
honour of accepting my proposal of marriage." Annie squealed and hugged
both of us at once, before realising what she was doing.

"Sorry, Master, sorry Mistress" she apologised, but without taking the
grin off her face. "Now I can really call you Mistress!" Then her face
fell for a second, and she froze. "Oh. Can I? Can I call you Mistress?"

I realised what she meant. "Yes, Annie you can. My wife would never
forgive me if I gave away her favourite collar." Penny reached out her
hand, and to my amazement drew the girl to her. Time stopped for a
moment as I watched her take Annie's upturned face in both hands and
kiss her deeply. Annie's own hands fluttered helplessly at her side as
my future wife raped the inside of the girl's mouth with her tongue.
Yes, I thought to myself, Penny was definitely going to be staying over
tonight! I wondered how my Mother would react when I told her.

Outside the drawing room I could hear the others, still talking over
each other, and I paused to collect my breath (and my courage.)

Penny took hold of my elbow. "Don't forget about the dowry," she
whispered, grinning.

"Why? You know I don't mind. Money is not going to be a problem later
on." I reassured her, but grateful for the distraction.

"No, you don't understand. You get the dowry when you marry me, not at
your eighteenth."

"So?"

"So, say we have the wedding the month after next..." That was
reasonable. Our Mothers would want it to be as soon as was compatible
with the organisation of the social event of the century. "... then
what could we spend seventeen kay on, in two months time?" She dropped
her eyes from my face, and pretended to be thinking hard. Her face
cleared. "Oh, I know! What about a motorbike? I've heard the new
Tomahawk has a good pillion seat!"

She gave up the battle to avoid my kiss and laughing into each other's
mouths we clung together like honeysuckle. "Of course I don't need it
that much, now I have found something even better to ride," I told her
as I explored the contours of her bottom cheeks through the layers of
her dress.

"Now behave." hissed Penny sternly, moving my right hand up to her
waistband. "We are going to have to endure the gleeful shrieks of at
least two mums, and someone ought to maintain some decorum." I laughed
and squeezed her delightful derriere once more before nodding to Annie,
standing ready to open the doors to the drawing room.

Arm in arm, we stepped into the room, and into the rest of our lives.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------
                                 The End
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

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