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The
green interstate sign indicated that Rt. 90 West bound was coming up in 2
miles. Gwyn blinked. That fast? Where did the time go? The drive from home to
her destination was a little over 6 hours, and in the blink of an eye, it
seemed, she was half-way there. Her mind had been busy remembering, recalling,
and anticipating. It had been 5 years since she escaped from the rigors of
daily living to be ensnared by His masterful dominance. Five years since her
backside felt the harsh slap of a hand, the sting of the flogger, the kiss of
the cane.
They had
had a wonderful three years of interaction. She still remembered her first
visit to Him; the nervousness, the headiness, the butterflies in the pit of her
stomach. The increase and crescendo of anticipation as the miles closed between
them. Walking up to his front door and taking the deep breath before the knock.
And here it was again. He was not new to her, but so much time had passed that
it felt new. Life played it natural course. His work and family demanded his
attention. She had gotten married and had children. Communication between them
slowed down and then ceased. It was not from lack of interest, just a lack of
time and energy. She had learned that it's too easy to let life intervene and take over.
Both of
them were too busy for their own good. But life had settled down a bit for both
of them. And with the renewal of spring came unbidden thoughts of the time they
spent together, and where it disappeared to. The bond they seemed to share
reaffirmed itself the day she finally sent the "Hey, are you alive?"
e-mail; the same day he called her at the office and said "You've been on
my mind.." It didn't take long for the date to be
set. The date they'd reunite. And here it was, the "weekend". It felt
a bit surreal.
The
three years they had together was beyond words. Each time they met limits were
gently expanded, previous "no-zones" were eliminated as trust between
them manifested into solid rock. Sessions became more varied, longer, more intense. Toward the end of the third year, there was
nothing, truly, she wouldn't have allowed him to explore. He knew her fears,
her terrors, her delights, and he never violated any of their rules. She
trusted him with her life. Then life ripped them apart for a short while. So
how was she feeling now? She wondered how He was feeling. All the trust, the
emotion, the passion, the power exchange, all the experience was still there as
if 5 years had been 2 months. She was ready for this trip. She missed it. She
missed Him. But there was the fear of the time lapse. Had things changed for
Him? He wanted to see her, too, but what did that really mean? She thought she
knew what to expect based on their pervious visits, but she truly had no idea
what to expect at all. It was a little unnerving.
The
drive was good, the day was gorgeous, and the sun was warm on her cheek through
the driver-side window. Meatloaf's "
He had
moved since last he saw her, and the Yahoo! Maps directions were perfect. He
had his own house now, rather than the condo where he used to live. It was
certainly more private. He had mentioned years back wanting his own place, his
own basement, his own dungeon. She shivered with excitement. Did he have a
dungeon? He had told her it would be discreet. No one walking into it would
fathom the kinks hidden there. She couldn't wait to find out. Where would he have
stowed The Rack? The Rack – the thought of that single piece of equipment
was kindling enough to make her the
stoke the fires deep within. He had surprised her with it during one of their
last times together. He'd built it just for her, and she had been humbled and
honored; and it had been the most incredible session of her life.
Well, no
time to think of that now, she was here.
The
house looked like any rural American house, two floors, garage, and a decided
lack of flowers or gardening areas. Not only was He single, he was rarely at
home. She tucked the thought into the back of her mind as she walked toward the
front door. Perhaps, if they had another get-together in
late-Spring or early summer, she'd ask him about doing something about it.
He must have seen her coming, because before she had a moment to take the deep
breath before the knock, he opened the door. In the briefest of seconds the
years passed away like a puff of breath on a cold day. He smiled at her, pulled
her into a quick hug, and said "It's great to see you again."
They
spent the first few hours of their first day together simply catching up. They
sat on the back porch in the bright sunshine for a bit, sipping iced teas and
talking. "Want the grand tour?", he asked.
She nodded. He pointed out the kitchen, the den, the bathroom, and then began
for the upstairs. He passed a door that looked like it might have gone to a
basement and Gwyn asked, "What's down there?" "Oh that,"
and he waved his hand, "that's the basement, but it's an absolute wreck.
Though I've been here a few years now, I never really have done anything with
it, being away as often as I am. Someday, though.... Follow
She felt
the acute pangs of disappointment. She been so hoping he'd have followed his
desire to build his "workspace". Oh well. There was no use lamenting
what cannot be. He finished the nickel-tour and said, "Well, I don't know
about you, but I'm hungry. How about some dinner?"
Gwyn nodded and asked "Do you want me to cook something?" He shook
his head and said "Not tonight. I haven't had a chance to go shopping.
Perhaps we can do that tomorrow and we can eat in."
He was
taking them to a good Italian place. He knew she adored Italian and the lively
atmosphere would be a nice change. Over dinner, they talked about the jobs he
was applying for, the consulting work he was doing, the private battles he was
facing. They talked about her job, her two boys, her studies. They sipped wine,
laughed, and got back in touch with one another. The conversation had been
lightly sprinkled with suggestive D/s jargon, but there had been no firm talk
of D/s. No talk of plans for the weekend. The curiosity and desire to know
what, if anything, might be in store for their time
together was close to bursting off her tongue, but she held it back. She'd told
him she wanted their time together to be free-flowing, but just being this
close to him set off the sparks of remembrance and desire. They were close to
wrapping up dinner and she was feeling a little let down, primarily because she
let her hopes get the best of her. She sighed audibly, releasing her tension.
He looked at her then, reached across the table and grasped her wrist in a firm
hold, and her heart started racing. She looked up at him shyly, suddenly caught
in her previous thoughts, and he said "Well, young lady, are you
ready?" Anyone hearing their conversation would have thought he was asking
her if she was ready to leave. But she knew better. "Yes, I'm ready",
Gwyn stated with a slight lift of her chin. The edge of his
mouth quirked into a slight smile as he shook his head ever so slightly.
"I think you forgot something, but I'll help you remember later. Before we
go, I’d like you to do one thing."
He
reached into the inside pocket of his field coat and pulled out a 6 inch,
black, rectangular box that resembled a watch box. “Take this into the ladies
room with you. I think the rest will be self-explanatory.” Gwyn took the box
and looked up at Him. “You have a question?” he asked when she hesitated. “No,
Sir”, she answered, and she left the table and headed towards the bathroom. She
had a good idea what was inside. She closed the stall door behind her and
rested the box on top of the sanitary napkin disposal unit. Slowly, she opened
it, and inside was a 4 inch, medium-sized, pink-fleshed anal plug as well as a
small tube of lubricant. A flush crept up her neck and made her ears warm. She
lowered the toilet lid, unfastened her jeans, lowered her blue-laced silk
underwear and put a dab of lubricant on her anus as well as on the phallus. Gwyn
placed the anal plug base side down on the top of the toilet lid and slowly
lowered herself onto it. She moaned as it slid in and her clit throbbed a
little. She was tempted to just sit there and masturbate to orgasm, but decided
it would be more prudent to wait. What was this exchange for if not restraint?
And restraint always paid off. She recalled a scene with Him when he’d hung her
on The Rack and inserted such a plug, but it was smaller, into her. The thing
would stay in. It had been humiliating to have it pop out, but there was
nothing she could do. The harder she tried to hang onto it, the more it had
popped out. The plug inside her now was larger, more bulbous, and she was
thankful she had her jeans to help keep it in.
She
stood, pulled her panties and jeans back up, washed her hands, and met Him back
at the table. She handed the box back to Him. Its lack of weight told Him she
had complied. “Good girl. Let’s go, shall we?”
As they
left the restaurant, he placed his hand firmly on the small of her back and
steered her to the car. As she walked, she felt the pressure of the plug inside
her and every moment was a small torment. She felt herself getting wetter with
each step. She slid into the passenger seat and barely stifled a groan as she
sat. He was watching her closely. Gwyn shifted a little in the seat. He looked
at her as he started the engine and said, “Problem”? With a spark in her eye,
Gwyn said “No.” “I see”, he stated, and then he clucked his tongue a little as
he put the car in gear. She smiled a little smile, basking in his presence, and
chuckled a little over her blatant non-use of the title, "Sir". He
expected her to resist a bit and took pleasure in bringing her around. And she
reveled in the honest struggle she experienced in submission. Day to day she
was a leader, a go-getter, assertive. It truly was hard for the submissive to
break the surface, but when it did, it was total, and it was nothing short of
spiritual and psychological joy. The reunion had just begun.