At least Loren no longer had any worries about what might happen to her friend in her absence.
The threat no longer existed.
And Loren had slept like a rock every night since.
Ross had already given Loren a couple of basic, easy rules to follow. Once they were settled into their apartment, they’d sit down and put a few more into place. Loren was secretly thrilled about that. Their honeymoon alone had been amazing and only reinforced in her heart she’d made the right decision.
The man she’d married was utterly and completely devoted to her. Whatever it took to make him happy, she’d do it, because she knew without a doubt how he felt about her.
One thing he’d asked for during the trip was for her to stay right behind him, following him, and to try not to let other cars get between them. He wanted to be able to glance in the mirror and see her. Since the moving truck would need to stop for gas more often than the car, it only made more sense for him to set the gas schedule.
It was late in the day and they were somewhere in South Carolina. Loren had lost the latest radio station she’d been listening to and started fiddling with it, trying to find another.
That’s why when she looked up, it was too late to follow Ross off the exit ramp he’d taken.
“Shit!” She had a semi coming up behind her and couldn’t exactly slam on the brakes.
Then she saw the next sign and realized not only had she screwed up, she was coming up on an interchange and had no idea which way Ross had intended to go next.
“Dammit!”
Near tears, she opted to take the first ramp, which would dump her into an exit in two miles, according to the sign.
Then she got off at the first exit and waited, pulling into a gas station right there by the exit ramp and parking where he’d be able to see her.
And waited.
And waited.
It was nearly a half hour later when, with great relief, she spotted the truck coming down the exit ramp. She got out and waved, hugging herself, berating herself for her stupidity.
Ross, hampered by the tow dolly, got turned around and pulled into the parking lot. When she walked over to him, he flew out of the cab, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her to him.
“What the hell happened?” Then he pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly against him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”
She burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was playing with the radio and by the time I looked up, you were already turning off and there was a truck behind me, and—”
He spun her around, pushing her into the cab, over the seat. She was wearing a sundress, more comfortable for the drive than shorts or jeans. With one hand pinning her down by the back of her neck, and the other yanking up her dress and pulling down her panties, Ross proceeded to spank the crap out of her.
When he jerked her to her feet again, he pulled her into his arms, holding her, his face buried in her hair. “New rule, baby. No radio. Not until I say so. You ever pull a stunt like that again and scare me, you won’t be able to drive because I’ll pull my belt off and beat your ass. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she tearfully whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh.” He rocked her, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but clean slate. Do not do that again.”
Now she had another problem.
The spanking had left her hornier than hell.
Ross glanced around. From the angle they were parked, trees and Ross’ car blocked most of the view of the cab.
He turned her around again and pushed her over the seat, pulling her dress up again.
She felt him unfastening his jeans. “You don’t come right now, baby, then you just have to wait until we stop for the night.” That was the only warning she got before he slid his cock inside her.
He folded his body over hers, one hand finding her clit and lightly pinching it. “Come quick, sweetheart. I know I will. You know what spanking your ass does to me.”
It didn’t take her long. And then he was coming, with a pleased grunt, burying himself inside her.
After just a moment he withdrew. She started to turn and sink to her knees, but he grabbed her arm and kept her upright. “Don’t move. We can’t do that here.” He looked around. “I shouldn’t have done this here, but you scared the crap out of me.”
He tucked himself in and zipped up, then held his hand out to her. “Panties.”
She felt her face heat. “Sir?”
“Don’t make me ask a second time, girl.”
She balanced on one leg, getting them pulled off and handing them to him.
“Good girl.” He leaned in and kissed her. “You’ll have to just drive with a pussy full of my cum until we stop for the night. You’d better hope you don’t get a wet spot on your dress. In fact, grab a puppy pad from my overnight bag and put it on the seat, and pull your skirt out so it’s your bare ass on the pad.”
He wore an evil grin that only made her hotter and wetter.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his lips inches from hers. “Who’s my good girl?”
“Me, Sir.”
He kissed her forehead. “Yes, you are. You won’t miss an exit again, will you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Get the pad out. And then pull the car over to the pumps so we can top off the tank. You will pump the gas. No panties, and my cum running down the inside of your thighs.” His sadistic grin only made her problem worse. “There might be plenty of mornings I send you off to your classes with no panties and your pussy full of my cum. Wouldn’t that be nice, girl?”
Her heart raced. “Yes, Sir.”
He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and stared deeply into her eyes. “You have no idea how fucking much I love you, do you?”
She smiled. “Not nearly as much as I love you, Sir.” Yes, she’d take whatever kinky, dirty, sadistic thing he wanted to do to her. She’d quickly learned a lot of what he threatened was just that, a really hot threat he had no intention of carrying out.
Didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it if he ordered her to. Because she would. With pleasure, and without hesitation.
Because if it made him happy, that’s all she cared about.
Because her reason for being was to keep him happy. And if anyone didn’t understand it, that was their problem, not hers.
Later that night, once they were in their hotel room, he made her kneel on the bed, head down, ass up, arms and legs tied to immobilize her, while he spanked her once more for good measure. She came nearly immediately when he fucked her, and a second time just from the feel of his body pressing against her freshly spanked ass.
Then he pulled her into the shower with him, washing every inch of her body and sinking to his knees to use his mouth on her and bring her to one more orgasm.
As they fell asleep that night, his body spooned around hers, she smiled as she felt the slight sting in her ass where it rubbed against his thighs.
She was a well-loved, well-fucked, well-owned woman.
And that was exactly what she wanted to be.
It was all she wanted to be.
* * * *
Loren’s parents flew down for her graduation. She didn’t miss her mom’s obvious relief when Loren rejoined them after the ceremony.
The long, crushing hug her mom gave her.
“I was wrong about him,” her mom whispered in her ear. “Thank god, I was so wrong. You look so happy.”
Loren nodded. “That’s because I am happy, Mom.”
Ross still had another year of law school ahead of him, but so far was doing well. They had an ever-growing circle of friends in the Tampa area, and Loren was eager to get back into the job market.
She’d changed her major from accounting to marketing and already had a lead on several jobs, including one with a local resort hotel. It would mean moving to Sarasota, but Ross had already started looking at apartments in the area,
even though she hadn’t officially been offered a job yet.
And even though it would mean a longer commute for him to school.
When she tried to protest, he silenced her, pulling the Master card, not wanting her to have to drive far to work.
The only thing…
The one thing she sometimes cried about, her head in his lap as he stroked her hair and looked so utterly sad that he couldn’t fix that for her.
The one thing two more doctors had told her would likely never happen.
The one thing she’d wanted, but it increasingly looked like she’d never have.
The one thing she knew Ross would give anything to fix for her.
The one thing she knew would forever shape how he treated her, trying to give her the moon and the stars, doing anything and everything else he could to make her happy, keep her happy, to make up for it.
The one thing that, no matter how she tried to tell him she didn’t hold him responsible for it, he would forever feel guilty about.
That one thing.
* * * *
Three months after Loren’s graduation, they were settling into their new apartment in Sarasota. She was three weeks into her new job at the high-end resort and had already dealt with four A-list Hollywood stars in the course of her duties.
After Ross arrived home from school, she’d greeted him at the door as she always did, naked and with a kiss.
His playful smile looked even more devious than usual. “What?” she asked.
He had a bag with him. “I brought you something.” He set his stuff down on the sofa and snapped his fingers, pointing at the floor.
Automatically, and with no hesitation, she sank to her knees in front of him, her pussy already clenching in anticipation.
He opened the bag and pulled out a black leather collar. Hand-tooled with an intricate Celtic knot design, the edges were wrapped with leather lacing, and it looked soft and supple.
“I think my gorgeous girl should be appropriately attired.” He leaned in and buckled it around her neck while she held her hair up and out of the way.
The feel of the soft, supple leather, the smell of it made her nearly come right there.
“And there’s more.” He dug into the bag and produced matching wrist and ankle cuffs. She had to stand while he put them on her ankles, kneeling in front of her to do it.
“Well?” he asked.
She threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. “I love them, Sir,” she said. “Thank you.”
He fisted her hair, which now grew past her shoulders. “I found out about a group that gets together once a month,” he said. “A group of people who have…common interests.”
“Sir?”
He smiled. “People like us. They meet at a local bar to talk. Sometimes they have private parties. They meet this Saturday night.”
She hadn’t really given it much thought. Her pulse raced. “There’s other people like us?” Intellectually, she knew it. It just hadn’t blipped her radar before that there might be people she could meet and talk to locally about it.
“Yes. Would you like to go meet them?”
“Just to meet them?”
His grip on her hair tightened. “I meant what I said. No one touches you but me. And I don’t want anyone else. But I thought it’d be nice to have another circle of friends who does this kind of stuff. Knowing that we’re not alone. Like that.”
“Yes, Sir. I’d like that a lot.” She had a growing circle of friends.
The last thing she could do was talk about this aspect of their lives. An aspect that was a core, integral part of their relationship.
Her other friends didn’t understand why she served Ross his food first, or waited until after he’d started eating to eat her own food.
Why she took great pride in how he always opened doors for her.
Why she let their teasing comments about how she needed permission from him to do things roll off her shoulders.
“So you’re okay with us going?” he asked her.
She smiled. “I think it’d be nice to have some new friends who will understand this part of us.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too, sweetheart.” He pulled her in for a hug. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with going.”
“I’ll go anywhere you want me to go.”
“I know. But that’s why I asked. Because like I promised you, sometimes I will ask your opinion and limits and I will respect them. This is one such case.”
She closed her eyes, basking in his warm embrace. “I don’t care what my limits are. I trust you.”
Warm breath brushed against her scalp. “I trust you, too, sweetheart.”
Chapter Fourteen
Now…
When Ross returned home from his work trip that afternoon, he found Loren kneeling in the living room, naked except for her leather collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. She knelt in a formal posture, hands on her knees, palms up, head bowed but shoulders back.
On the floor in front of her, the punishment cane lay exactly perpendicular to her body.
He pulled up short, taken aback. There’d been times lately he’d threatened her with bare-handed swats, but he rarely used a cane on her anymore. Not as punishment. He hadn’t even used the paddle on her as punishment in…years.
And for her to formally present the cane to him like this meant only one thing—whatever it was, it was a whopper. She’d broken a rule.
And she knew it.
Just what rule, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Not if it elicited this level of contrition from her.
When he finally realized he was just standing there, laptop case in one hand and carry-on in the other, he stepped forward and set them on the floor next to the chair.
He found his voice. “Slave? Explain.”
If she was formally requesting punishment, it dropped them right into the zone without passing go or collecting two hundred dollars. He’d find out what happened, get it over with as soon as possible, and then spend the evening making love to her and cuddling with her, loving her, soothing her and whatever guilt—real or perceived—she felt she had.
“This slave has earned punishment strokes, Master.”
He froze again. Not only was she formally requesting punishment, she was in full-on formal mode.
“What was the infraction?”
And here is where she faltered. “This slave has committed two infractions, Master.”
His blood chilled. “Two? Name them.”
“This slave went somewhere without asking Master’s permission first.”
Cold sweat broke out on his back. This was a horrible flashback from the past. From the early days. He had relaxed that rule years ago.
Decades ago.
The only reason he had put it into place at all was because of what had happened to her.
Because of that night.
But since then, since moving to Florida and putting that nightmare behind them, he’d relaxed it, trusting her instincts. Knowing she wouldn’t ever put herself in a position like that again.
“And the second infraction?” he asked.
“This slave cannot say it, Master.”
He closed his eyes and silently counted to ten before opening them again. “How can I be expected to mete out punishment if I don’t know what I’m punishing you for?”
“The slave has earned at least fifty strokes, Master. Total.”
Oh, boy.
“Then you’re going to have to tell me what I’m giving them to you for, slave.”
He watched her throat as she swallowed. “This slave cannot say it, Master,” she quietly repeated.
Now he felt a cold ball of fear chilling in his gut. “Did you cheat on me?”
“No, Master.”
Oookaay… It’d been a long-shot, but in his mind it was the worst-case scenario. If it wasn’t that, he honestly didn’t know what it was she’d done.
“Didja kick a puppy?” He tried to inject a
little humor into this situation because he felt stifled, nearly sick at heart.
“No, Master,” she softly said.
Not even a hint of humor in her response or her demeanor. “Why can you not tell me what it was you did to earn fifty strokes, slave?”
“Because Master ordered this slave to never speak of it.”
For a second, he thought his heart stopped.
There was only one thing he’d ever given her a command not to speak about, and technically that had been before he’d collared her.
But Loren was not just a good slave. She was, in his eyes, perfect. The best.
Exceptional beyond compare.
Any order he gave her, she would follow it to the letter. It wasn’t an assumption—it was a given.
Including the first order he ever technically gave her, despite them not even being a couple at the time.
He slowly removed his jacket, more to give him time to think than to psychologically mess with her, for once. He neatly folded it and draped it over the back of the chair before he started unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling them up to his elbows.
He dropped into full-on stern Dom tone, one he hadn’t had to use on her in anything other than play in…well, over twenty years. “I’m giving you an order to tell me what happened, slave. This supersedes that previous order.”
He didn’t need to say what the previous order was. He knew.
Now he needed to know how it applied to this situation.
Softly, her voice choked with tears, Loren told him about Melody Axlerod contacting her. And who she was. How Loren had hoped the one contact on Facebook would be enough, but then Melody contacted her again, wishing to meet.
And the talk they’d had.
When Loren finished, she still hadn’t moved from her formal kneeling position, waiting.
At least it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it might have been.
“Slave, explain to me why you feel you deserve fifty strokes for this?”
“Because this slave didn’t tell Master about the initial contact or the meeting. Twenty-five for this slave going somewhere without Master’s permission. Twenty-five for talking with her.”