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Sorodna Dusa

By: Sir Galahad



Seated at my kitchen table, I was attempting to explain a practical application of solid geometry to Kitty Vaughn, a high school junior who was one of my math students at Thayer High School. Like a number of her peers, she was floundering due to the teaching methods of Esther Hirschberg, the student teacher with whom Dr. Fiorelli had saddled me this semester. Given the uncomplimentary nickname "Miss Prissy" by the student body for her resemblance to the skinny spinster hen from the Foghorn Leghorn cartoons and her classroom presence, Ms. Hirschberg lectured like Donald Duck but tested like Albert Einstein. The long-legged, very pretty Kitty was not the only student she'd sufficiently confused to beg me for private tutoring. I was making a nice bit of income on the side defogging the minds Miss Prissy bewildered.

"Kitty, the problem is simple. Remember what I taught you last year in plane geometry? When you have a problem you don't understand, break it down into smaller parts, solve the parts you do understand, then look at the problem again. Let's break it down. Do you remember the formula for the area of a circle?"

"A equals Pi times the radius squared, right?"

"Correct. And if you multiply that by length, what do you get?"

She was silent for a moment. "The volume of a cylinder?" she asked hesitantly.

"Exactly. Now, look at the problem again. It's one my grandfather the ship captain did all the time when he was running to the Philippines after World War II. Read it out loud. Draw what you see on your scratch paper; it might help you visualize it." She picked up her pencil and sketched as she read the problem aloud.

"You are the cargo officer of a freighter floating in salt water. You are to load mahogany logs at No. 4 Hatch. The logs are floating alongside. 20% of each log is above the surface.

"The logs are six feet in diameter and fifty feet long. The weight of seawater is 64 pounds per cubic foot.

"The cargo gear at the hatch consists of a yard-and-stay rig with a safe working load of 20 long tons, and a jumbo boom with a safe working load of 50 long tons. 1 long ton is 2,240 pounds or 1,000 kilograms.

"Required: can the logs be safely loaded using the ship's cargo gear? Justify your answer." She looked at me. I pointed to her sketch of a cylinder. She punched numbers into the calculator and got the volume of the log: 1,413.71 cubic feet.

"I know the volume, but how do I figure the weight?"

I drew a circle, divided it into 5 parts, and colored in 4 of them. I looked at her.

"The shaded part is how much is underwater." I looked at her significantly.

He face lit up. "So that's how much seawater it's displacing! That means the log weighs 80% of 1,413.71 times 64, or," she punched buttons, "72,382 pounds. Divided by 2,240 pounds, the log weighs... 32.31 long tons."

I looked at her again, raising an eyebrow. She reread the problem.

"The answer is Yes, but only if I use the jumbo boom?"

"Precisely. The problem only looks complicated. The only information you are not given is the formula for calculating the volume of the log, which you already know."

"Why can't Ms. Hirschberg explain it like that?" Kitty almost screamed.

"Because she's a fucking idiot!" I didn't say, though I certainly thought it. "She's still finding her feet as a teacher," I temporized. "She doesn't understand that students don't get theoretical problems half as well as practical ones."

Kitty got up and gathered her things. "Oh, I almost forgot, Mr. Fredericks. My mother wants to talk to you about continuing to tutor me."

"Have her call me," I said as I walked the elfin girl with the red-blonde hair to the door, handing her a card with my school and cellphone numbers on it.

"No, she wants to meet you in person. When would be a good time?"

"I'm at school until four o'clock most days and at home most evenings. Ask her to call me and we'll arrange something." I waved goodbye as she pulled out in her Boxster convertible.

My cell phone rang the next afternoon after school as I was going over the kids' homework after school with Miss Prissy. The fact many of the papers showed the same mistakes in each problem meant her classes were not grasping some elementary concepts. This in turn indicated to me that Prissy wasn't getting them across to the students. Something was going to have to be done to remedy that. I was trying to think how to upbraid her diplomatically when my phone buzzed.

"Excuse me," I said, walking into the hall to take the call.

"Hello?" A warm contralto voice answered me.

"Mr. Fredericks? This is Katryn Vaughn."

Although we had never spoken before, to me she needed no introduction. After I'd earned a battlefield commission in Operation Desert Storm with the Green Berets, my first independent command had been an A-Team with the peacekeepers in Bosnia during the Bosnian War. She had been a celebrity there, the first girl from "the cockpit of Europe" to make it as a high fashion model in many years. Katryn Pokoran had been a sensation in Paris, Milan, Vienna and London before making the jump across the pond to New York and Los Angeles. She'd successfully worked the runways and fashion magazines for three or four years. She was a popular mannequin in the design world, well regarded by those who covered the fashion industry and had been the favorite of one up-and-comer who was now a renowned, big name designer. She had then been wooed and wed by Drake Vaughn, a high-powered, well-connected Washington corporate lawyer. They'd had one child, Katherine, my student Kitty, before Drake dumped her in favor of a younger model in a pathetic attempt to prove his virility. Because of a pre-nup, although she wasn't poor by most people's standards she wasn't one of the idle rich either. She had moved to my town an hour from DC and worked in the offices of an animal-rescue charity as much to occupy her days as from conviction, according to supermarket magazines that followed the lives of celebrities.

"Kitty said you wanted to talk to me, Mrs. Vaughn."

"Katryn, please; and yes, I do."

I figured this was going to be the blame-the-tutor speech that grade-obsessed helicopter parents trot out when their precious offspring are still getting poor marks despite diligent tutoring. Preemptive strike time.

"Are you calling to terminate her lessons?" I asked brusquely.

"Not at all! What you're doing with Kitty seems to be working wonders. That's what I want to talk about. Could we meet for a coffee? I have a proposal I'd like to put to you. If today is convenient, when could you meet me at Colombia Supremo?"

"Would 5:00 be too late, Katryn?"

"That would be fine. How will I recognize you?"

I smiled. "I'll wear a carnation in my lapel."

"And I'll be carrying a large red leather shoulder purse," she laughed. "The challenge will be, 'Excuse me, is that a Louis Vuitton?' and the response will be, 'No, it's a Coach bag.' Will that do it?"

"John Le Carre has a great deal to answer for," I riposted. Her laughter was bell-like in my ear as she hung up.

Talking to Katryn had somehow focused me. I went back into the classroom. Tossing diplomacy aside, I reverted to my earlier incarnation as a Green Beret major. I gave Miss Prissy a thorough chewing-out over her stubbornly plowing ahead to cover the course material on her schedule whether the kids understood each concept or not. Her protests that she had gone over everything and they should have gotten it from one lesson fell on deaf ears.

"You'll go over it again, and again, and yet again until they do get it," I finished. "If they don't get the idea one way, try something else. You're lecturing as if they were grad students in advanced mathematics. They aren't. They're just high school kids.

"I've highlighted their homework to show you what they haven't understood. Go home tonight and give some serious thought to how you can explain those concepts so they see what you're trying to teach. I will not be happy if I have to take the class over and revisit topics you should have gotten across to them!" I stalked out, leaving Prissy looking as shocked as if I'd slapped her. I hoped the young Ms. Hirschberg had a fallback position as far as her career went. It was becoming clear to me she had no future as a teacher, at least not in high school math.

There was a small florist's shop a block south of the coffee shop. On a whim, I parked in front of it, went inside and purchased two red carnations. I had the clerk wrap one with a water tube in the base while I pinned the other through the buttonhole of my coat. Going to the café, I took a small table where I could see the door and waited for Katryn to arrive. She appeared a few minutes later.

By fashion designer standards, she was a grotesquely fat, disgusting pig with an ass the size of Manhattan and sloppy boobs that would hopelessly distort the lines of their runway creations. By the standards of the real world, the woman who walked through the door of Colombia Supremo was a tall, long limbed, deliciously slender size 4 with enough in the way of breasts, buttocks and nipped-in waist to make it clear she was a woman and not a sexless mannequin. The silk blouse and suede skirt combo Katryn was wearing hung beautifully on her, complementing the combination of pale white skin and flame red hair that hung to her shoulders. True to her word, she was wearing a red shoulder bag. I stood so she could see me. She walked to my table with a model's criss-cross step so ingrained after years on the runway as to be habitual.

"Excuse me, is that a Louis Vuitton?" I asked innocently.

"No, it's a Coach bag," she replied with a smile. "Alexander Fredericks, I presume?" I nodded and held out the carnation to her. Our fingers touched as she took it.

Sparks tingled through my body. Images flashed before my eyes of things I'd never seen and places I had never been: jump-cuts of a small town in Slovenia; a Western talent agent in a Mercedes; a spotlit runway surrounded by columnists and reporters with camera strobes flashing; an agent who was also a lover presenting me with a curious black and silver ring and a choker necklace; a carefully coiffed Drake Vaughn, first in a three piece suit, then waltzing with me in a white wedding dress; bursts of pain and the satisfaction of a baby suckling a breast; faceless lovers humping my pussy to their climax but not mine, coupled with a long, aching emptiness stretching off into what seemed to be infinity until just a moment ago, when a banked fire reignited.

My cock instantly sprang to full erection, startling me. Nothing like that flash had ever happened to me before. I saw Katryn's eyes flare with surprise and her lips part. They seemed suddenly fuller than they had been a moment before. That might have been an illusion; the sudden flush on her chest above the translucent silk of her blouse was not.

I eased around the table and seated her. Her eyebrows rose at this courtesy but she said nothing. We each needed a moment to gather ourselves. The waitress coming to take our order provided it. I ordered regular coffee with whole milk, not cream, and a shot of hazelnut syrup. Katryn held up two fingers to indicate she'd have the same. We looked at each other.

"I told you I had a proposal for you," she finally said. "It concerns Kitty. I'm worried about her."

"I can't imagine why," I said. "She's one of the steadiest students I've ever had the pleasure to teach. It takes her awhile sometimes to grasp a concept, but once she gets it she has it for good and all. I never have to review things she's already supposed to have learned half a dozen times before the information comes back to her forebrain.

"More to the point, she is a sensible girl who sees things as they are rather than through the rose-colored glasses of idealistic youth. I had to admit I was surprised to learn Kitty does not have a boyfriend according to her coach. She is concentrating on gymnastics, Ms. Ryan tells me, and her skills are improving steadily. As with her studies, she's a reliable performer who always comes through in the clutch. To me that is better than being an erratic superstar, someone you can't rely on to deliver in the crunch.

"That's why I was surprised to see her driving a Porsche. It seems too flashy for her personality. Something passed on to her when you bought a new car, perhaps?"

"Why would you say that?" she asked, wariness in her voice and expression.

"I know Katryn Pokoran's story. Meaning no offense, but I think you look better today than you did when you were strutting the runways in Milan and Paris. Your ex-husband is a fool, if you ask me. I certainly wouldn't have left you for another woman."

She blushed and took a sip of her coffee to cover her confusion. "Thank you, Alexander. But no, her father gave her that Porsche, not me. She told me she doesn't really like it, but as it was free...

"But I didn't ask you to meet me so we could talk about cars. I want to talk about Kitty's schoolwork, and not only her math class. I think she needs help."

"What do you mean?"

"I want Kitty to get the kind of education I don't have," she said, looking me in the face. "Money is not an issue. Her father must pay for college under the terms of the divorce.

"I'd like to get her into an Ivy League school or a really good university like George Washington, William & Mary, Duke or Auburn. A university where she would get an education that will let her do anything she wants to do, where she won't have to depend on her looks or on landing a rich husband. That's where I'd like you to come in.

"She responds better to you, to your no-nonsense style of teaching that demands she learn while respecting her efforts, than to any teacher she has ever had. I wouldn't mind studying under you either, to learn what I never got to know because I went off to work in the fashion industry. I think there is a great deal we both could learn from you.

"What do you say?"

I drained my coffee cup and tossed some money on the table. "I say we should discuss it over dinner, Katryn. There's a little hibachi steak house that also does sushi and tempura down the street. Would you care to join me?"

She smiled and tucked the carnation into her bag. "I would be delighted, sir."

At the restaurant, she again let me take the lead in ordering food. We watched the skilled hands of the chef transform innocuous pieces of meat and vegetables into small works of art, delightfully cooked and cunningly presented. As we ate, we agreed on the terms and on how to present the program to Kitty. It would require dedication on her part; I would require two to three hours a week of her time three evenings a week, plus occasional weekend trips to nearby exhibits and places of interest. We also agreed on an hourly rate and on Katryn's paying for any books and teaching materials I might need. She read me back the terms from the notes she had taken while we talked.

"Do we have a deal?" Katryn finally said. "I'll have a contract ready for our signatures tomorrow."

"My hand on it," I said. She offered me her hand and we shook, once again feeling sparks fizzing through the contact. She showed no sign of letting go and I wondered if she was seeing a montage similar to what I'd experienced back at the coffee shop. I looked at her tapering fingers with their manicured nails and saw the ring from my contact-vision. Katryn had not been wearing a ring in the coffee shop. She must have slipped it on when she took out her notepad and pen.

It was innocuous but symbolic. Three thin S-shaped silver bars forming a Y separated three pieces of onyx. Each piece of onyx had a small brilliant diamond inset into it. I'd seen rings like this before, but very seldom.

"I presume you are not wearing that ring simply because you like it," I said, caressing the back of her hand with my thumb.

"I do not wear it by chance," she said in a husky voice. "Do you know what it symbolizes, Al?"

"Yes," I agreed. "Are you sure that is what you want of me, Katryn?" She nodded, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.

"It is, sir."

"Prove it."

"What do you suggest, sir?" she asked, her head down, green eyes still looking up at me.

"Go to the ladies room. Take off your bra and put it in your purse. Unbutton your blouse as far as you dare, then undo one more button. Take off your panties and fold them up small. When you return to the table, tuck them into my coat pocket. After that, we can discuss what comes next."

"Yes, sir," she said softly. "I'm going to powder my nose. I'll be back in just a minute." She undulated to the rest room, her hips seesawing in a way that stimulated the imagination of every man who saw her. While she was gone, I ordered dessert, a simple mango sherbet.

When she returned, her blouse was unbuttoned almost to her navel. Her breasts bounced a little with each step, their rounded edges peeping out of the gap as she moved. Katryn slipped onto the seat beside me, our legs touching. She gave me a kiss that looked demure, but for an instant her tongue was halfway down my throat. I felt a bulge in my pocket that had not been there before, and reached inside to touch it. Moist silk greeted my fingertips. When I withdrew them and casually stroked my chin, the delectable scent of horny female was discernable. She rested her head on my shoulder and beneath the table my hand found its way under her skirt to rest on her bare thigh, caressing skin as soft as those panties; and, I discovered as my fingertips touched her vulva, as moist. She moaned softly into my ear as I teased her sex with my fingertips, parting her legs slightly.

Dessert was eaten in undue haste.

On leaving the restaurant, I took her by the hand and led her to my car. "We'll come back for yours later," I promised. "I presume that having a daughter, you'll not be able to stay with me for long."

"We have a couple of hours, sir," Katryn said as she buckled her seat belt. "Kitty has gymnastics practice. She always goes out for a bite with her teammates afterwards. She knows I sometimes have late meetings with potential donors and thinks nothing of it if I get in after she does. Where do you plan to take me?"

"To my place," I said, reaching inside her open blouse to caress her firm breasts with the hard nipples topping them. "We can be quite private there."

"Please hurry," she whispered.

We drove to my house on the outskirts of town. I could tell from Katryn's intake of breath that it wasn't what she'd expected.

During the craze for McMansion-size houses, a Victorian Gingerbread had come on the market following the death of its elderly spinster owner. It had been a grand old pile when it had been built 120 years ago but had fallen into disrepair. A house flipper had purchased it and begun its renovation. The project had gotten as far as knocking down some inside walls to combine small Victorian rooms into bigger modern rooms, opening up the walls and installing insulation, modern electric wiring, HVAC ducting and new copper plumbing when the housing bubble burst.

Unable to refinance or even to service his loan, the flipper walked away from a job on which he was underwater with no chance of surfacing. The bank had repossessed a gutted carcass in a badly depressed housing market, a drug on its books they couldn't sell. No one wanted a white elephant that wasn't habitable.

No one but me, that is.

I'd bought the place from the bank, paying cash, for about a tenth of its worth shortly after I'd come to teach at Thayer High and had continued the renovation on weekends and vacations. My primary MOS as a 25-Charlie radioman and my secondary MOS as an 18-Charlie Special Forces engineer sergeant before I'd been commissioned enabled me to move things forward, doing my own work at my own pace where most people would have needed to hire contractors. The fact I owned the place outright and could live on my teaching salary while spending my pension checks on the job didn't hurt either.


Sorodna Dusa



Of course, I had to prioritize the work. Roof replacement, exterior siding, new doors and windows had come first. The house was completely weathertight and looked great from the outside. But inside bare studs, exposed wiring and naked pipes were the norm. The only rooms that were finished were the kitchen, the living room and the master suite.

It didn't seem to matter to Katryn. I closed the inner front doors behind us. She was leaning against the newel post, nipples poking against the silk of her blouse, one leg bent up against the post to show its curves as her chest rose and fell in anticipation. I stepped close but did not take her into my arms, instead staring deep into her emerald eyes with golden flecks, holding her gaze as I peered into her heart and soul and she into mine. Her lips parted and she whispered, "Sir, if you do not take me upstairs and give me what I need so badly, I think I shall die of the longing for it. I am a slut and I need you to punish me. Make me submit to you. Give me what I need. Please. I need it so badly!"

I took her head in my hands and kissed her parted lips, driving my tongue past her teeth as I pinned her against the railing with my weight. She moaned against my mouth and her hands started to rise. I caught them and pinned them to her sides, rubbing suggestively against her. She squirmed under me but could not escape my grasp. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. They burned with green lust-fire, hot and eager.

I threw her over my back and carried her up the stairs after the manner of a Hollywood caveman. Her skirt flipped up, exposing the tight globes of her ass to the breeze as she hung limply over my shoulder. Setting her on her feet in the bedroom, I stripped her naked, tossing her clothes back toward the door before I twined a hand into her glorious hair and pulled her to me. I kissed her again, long, hot and demanding. She responded with an eagerness of her own. Still holding her by the hair, I yanked open a closet door and pulled out a handful of silk neckties. She shivered as she realized what I had in mind for her.

Pulling her to the bed I roughly threw her across it, face down. She struggled for form's sake, earning a gentle slap on her cheek and a growled, "Hold still, slut!" as I tied her hands to the bed frame before doing the same to those long-stemmed legs of hers. She tested her bonds and realized I had her tied fast. Droplets of female essence glittering on her unshaven red pussy fur betrayed her eagerness.

I skinned out of my own clothes and stepped into the hall for a moment to retrieve a paint mixing stick, the best I could do on short notice. I stepped in behind Katryn.

"You've been a bad girl, haven't you, pet?"

"Yes, sir. I picked up a man in a restaurant and let him take me home. I'm so horny; I need to be punished."

"What would you suggest as punishment, wench?"

"I need a good spanking, sir. I need to be spanked hard. Then you can use me as you like. Spank me, please! Punish me! Then make me please you!"

"I'll give you what you deserve, slut," I snarled in a mock-dominant voice out of a porno video. "We'll start with twenty of the best from my hand. Count them, and if you lose the count or forget to say 'sir,' we will begin again from scratch. If it gets to be too much, all you have to do is say, "Halt!" Do you understand?"

"Yes," she gasped. I reached across the bed, grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.

"What did you say, sub?"

"Yes, sir!" she said belatedly. I turned her head and kissed her mouth.

"There will be an additional punishment for forgetting your place, girl. Now, count!"

"Yes, sir!"

I began spanking her small, firm ass cheeks. I varied the slaps from soft to stinging as she counted, "One, sir... two, sir... three, sir..." and I branded her skin with my handprints in red. Tears leaked from her eyes and cunt-honey dripped from the crevice in her pubic hair as her arousal became impossible to conceal.

"Eighteen, sir... unh! Nineteen, sir... Aaah! Twenty, sir! Ohh, YEEESSS, sir! Thank you!"

I reached between Katryn's legs and found her clitoris, stroking it with a finger and watching her whole body shudder as she climaxed. I unbuckled my belt and dropped shirt, pants and underwear to the floor, stepping out of them and liberating my cock from its confinement. Fishing a condom out of the nightstand beside the bed, I donned it, grabbed her hips and without ceremony entered her sopping cunt.

Taking her was like shoving my rigid cock into a bowl of wet, steaming pudding. She wriggled on my prick, welcoming me into her body as I thrust in and out of her oozing cooze with long, steady strokes, enjoying the feel of her around my rod.

"Oh, sir! Oh, sir! Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck your slut, sir! Fuck your sub! Fuck me hard! Punish me! Make me cum for you, sir! I want to cum for you, sir! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

I responded to her importunings by reaching over and picking up the paint stirrer lying on the bed by her bound leg and smacking her firm ass a good one. She screamed in a mixture of pleasure and pain as her cunt spasmed around my dick and she came again for me.

"AAAAHH! AEIIEEEH! OH YESSS! YES! YES! FUUCCK MEEE!"

I never stopped my hip motions, continuing to move in and out of Katryn's dripping wet box as I used her. She thrust back at me as much as her bonds allowed, urging me on, wanting more of what I had to give her. I shifted my hands, reaching around and under to find her clit with my left and continuing to spank her with the paddle with my right. The effect was instant and electric, those sparks I had felt before fizzing through us via my hand on her mound.

"Do you like it this way, sub? You like my using your body, cunt?"

"Don't stop, sir! Please don't stop! Fuck me! Beat me! Take me! Jam your beautiful cock into my pussy! Please don't stop, sir! Beat me! I want it! I want you to! Use my pussy! Use me! Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh -- oh -- ohgodohgodohgod YEEEEESSSS! AIEEEEAH! YES! YES! YES!"

Her entire body shuddered in a massive, powerful orgasm as I rammed in and out, teasing the clit soaked with her own sweet oils while I slapped her asscheeks at random with the stick, sometimes striking with just the tip, sometimes with the whole flat, sometimes with only part of it; sometimes with just enough force to sting, sometimes firmly, occasionally with enough force to make the sound of the impact echo off the walls like a pistol shot. The time between climaxes was shortening as she writhed against the ties holding her down to the bed. My own climax was building in my balls and I realized I was not going to be able to hold back much longer. I dropped the paint stirrer, reached forward and grabbed her hair, yanking her head up.

"Please me, you little slut! Fuck me good! Make me cum inside that gash between your legs! Use your cunt and get me off, girl!"

Katryn instantly responded by tightening her pussy muscles and shoving back hard enough to take me into her up to the root, rocking her hips from side to side and doing anything she could to stimulate me. She screamed again and her juices, whipped to froth by our actions, squirted out around my proud cock. Unable to hold back any longer, my hands yanked her upper and nether hair hard. I came powerfully, shooting my load into the condom as my sub-girl climaxed with me, screaming her joy for me to hear.

When I could move, I pulled out of her. She was lying limp on the bed, exhaling deep, sensuous moans as she fell into the afterglow. Her shapely buttocks glowed red from the spanking I'd given her as we copulated. I pulled the rubber off my cock and dropped it into the little trashcan under the nightstand. Walking into the bathroom, I hastily washed myself off and dampened a facecloth with warm water. With the facecloth in one hand and a towel in the other, I returned to the bed and gently sponged her off, patting her dry. Only then did I pull on my pants and release Katryn from her bonds.

After a minute, she pulled herself up on her elbows and looked at me with gratitude. I reached an arm toward her and she knee-walked to me, settling into my hug, offering me her lips. I kissed her, once more feeling that electric fizzing as we touched. She moved closer and I instinctively cupped a breast, feeling the hard bud atop it press against my hand. She moaned against my mouth at the contact. We finally broke the kiss by mutual consent.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you. I've been long without. Not just a cock filling my pussy; I've been without a Dominant to guide me. Our sex was good, sir, but your dominating me is even better. Thank you, sir, for your use of me."

I thought about it for a moment before I responded. "It was my pleasure to please you sexually, Katryn. I enjoyed it as much as you did." I hesitated before I went on.

"It would please me to have you again, pet. And again, and again. Would that please you as well?"

She took the hand that was cupping her tit and placed it on the mound of Venus concealed beneath her pubic hair. "Yes, Al, it would, very much. I think we suit each other very well. I enjoyed having you inside me, and I loved what you did to me." In her turn, she hesitated before she went on.

"Do you... feel... anything out of the ordinary... when you touch me?"

"Yes," I agreed, trying to find the words to describe something I could not readily explain even while I felt it as I caressed her labia through the wiry growth between her legs. "It feels like someone has replaced all my blood with supersaturated seltzer water. Sometimes I see images, too. Our touch fizzes through my veins like nothing I've felt before."

"Me too," she said, her body relaxing in my arms. "My people have tales about this. My grandmother used to tell me stories of such things when I was a little girl. Most people go through their entire lives and do not experience it. It's very rare, and very special. You are my sorodna dusa."

In the Army, I was rated as fair to good in a couple of the Balkan languages; but this was one phrase that neither my language instructor at the Presidio nor my 'sleeping dictionary' had ever taught me. I looked the question.

"My sufletul pereche, spriznena duse, my lelki tars. My soul mate. The one who is meant for me, that I am meant for. It is why we feel so right. We have found each other. I am yours and you are mine," she said, smiling serenely as she looked at me.

"Katryn, we've known each other for what, a few hours?" I protested. "How on earth can you be so sure I'm your soul mate, that you are my destiny?"

She responded by pulling me to my feet and leading me to the nightstand. She fished the used condom out of the trashcan, looked at it, looked at me and dropped it back into the can before taking my hand and bringing it to her pussy again while hers slipped into my pants to find my hardening cock.

"You will never need one of those again, Al," she said huskily. "Never again. When I had Kitty, things went badly wrong. There was a serious hemorrhage the doctors couldn't stop. I had to have an emergency hysterectomy to stop the bleeding. I nearly died from the loss of blood. You don't need to wear one of those awful things when you take me, my sir, but the fact you took the precaution tells me much about you.

"You are cautious, caring and discreet. You didn't hesitate to dominate me in public, but in such a way no one watching knew I chose to submit myself to you. You give me what I need without judging me. I want to be with you. I want to love you. I want you in my life, in my bed and in my body." She knelt in front of me, her hands busy with my trousers.

" Stop that! Stand up and look at me, Katryn. We have things to discuss.

"You're moving very quickly here, pet. Before you decide I am your soul mate, we need to know each other much better. You can't stay the night tonight; you have Kitty to consider. However, this weekend is a three-day weekend. I would very much like you to spend it with me. Would you like that?"

Her face lit up. "Oh yes! The timing is perfect. Kitty will be spending the weekend with her father and his new wife; he is jetting them to the Bahamas for a 'family vacation.' She is leaving straight from school and won't be back until late Monday night. What would you like me to do, my sir?"

"I want you to pack two suitcases. One will have street clothes and what you'd pack for a weekend getaway. The other will have your sexiest clothes, nightgowns and any adult toys or bondage gear you like. I will expect you after full darkness has fallen, dressed in the sluttiest outfit you own, in high heels, without bra or panties.

"You will park your car in the garage bay I will leave open for you. You will bring your suitcases to the back door and come in, locking the door behind you. But I want you to understand something very, very clearly.

"From the moment you enter my house and lock that door behind you until I permit you to leave, you are mine. You will dress as I direct you to. You will do whatever I tell you to do, at once. You will answer any question I ask, fully and without evasion. You will obey me without question until I release you from obedience.

"I promise I will not do anything that will cause lasting harm to you. No permanent piercings, no tattoos, no cutting, no branding. However, as my submissive you must endure a certain amount of passing pain and discomfort. That comes with your acceptance of that role, as I presume you understand. I expect that we will learn a great deal about each other, Katryn, if you choose to enter my home tomorrow night.

"Are you willing to spend three days with me under those conditions?"

She locked eyes with me and stood up again. I wondered if my blue eyes were telling her as much about me as her green and gold eyes were telling me about her. Reaching out, she took my hand and placed it on her breast. I could feel her heart beating.

"I see you are uncertain about our bond, my sorodna dusa. I am not. Nor will you be after our weekend tryst. I know that I belong to you, and that you belong to me. All that remains is for you to see it as clearly as I do. The tales Babica told me are true. I am yours. You will see, Al. You will see."

I gathered her to me, not trying to start something or initiate a scene, but simply to feel her skin against mine. Somehow she sensed what was in my mind, for she flowed into my arms and twined herself around me, simply wanting as much physical contact with me as she could get, like me luxuriating in the fizzing in our bloodstreams this contact gave us. Our hands roamed over each other's bodies, eliciting sensations that were sensuous and relaxing. I luxuriated in the silky feel of her skin on mine, her taut nipples brushing my chest, the firmness of her buttocks warm under my hand, the hint of moisture from her pussy telling me Katryn was enjoying this as much as I. Her head was cradled on my shoulder, the perfume from her hair filling my nostrils as she loosely clasped my penis with one hand and held me close with her other arm. I drew her to the bed and she came willingly, lying within my encircling arms, accepting anything I chose to do to her. We lay there like that without speaking, communicating by touch, enjoying the closeness until it was time for us to dress again and drive back to her car.

I pulled in next to her sensible BMW and cut the engine. She made no move to leave. We looked at each other in the dim light. Suddenly we were in each other's arms, our mouths locked together, tongues fighting, my hand inside her open blouse squeezing her tits and hers diving inside my waistband to grasp the hard cock that had fucked her to orgasm earlier in the evening. I could feel her nails on my scalp pulling our heads tight as I grabbed an asscheek, hearing her moaning against my lips as my tongue fucked her mouth. When we broke the kiss, her eyes burned red as her hair.

"Oh, my darling, I can't wait for tomorrow night!" Then she was gone. Breathing as if I'd just completed a marathon, I didn't move as her car pulled away. I drove home and went to bed in a bed that still smelled of Katryn. Sleep was a long time coming.

I was somewhat preoccupied through the school day on Friday, though not so much as to fail to notice Miss Prissy was doubling back to re-approach lessons the marked-up homework had made clear the kids hadn't understood. She had come up with a new angle on them, and from the reaction of the students at least some of them were catching on. I commended her on the new approach and discreetly slipped away early from the pep rally that replaces the last period of classes on Friday afternoons during football season. I made a few purchases and on arriving home made some preparations.

Darkness fell. I put on a smoking jacket, poured myself a brandy and sat in my favorite leather chair in the living room, waiting and listening. I heard a car turn into the driveway, climb the short slope up to the level plateau the house sat on, and idle into the former carriage house and stable that with the arrival of the automobile had become garages. The engine stopped. A short while later, I heard the back door open and close. The locks clicked.

"Sir?"

"In here, pet," I called. I could hear the clicking of high heels on the stone tiles and the hardwood of the adjoining, empty dining room as Katryn paused in the arch between the dining room and the living room in a raincoat and stiletto heels.

"That is the best you could do for a sexy outfit?" I said in disdain.

"No, my sorodna dusa. This is."

She unbuttoned the raincoat and threw it behind her. Beneath it, she wore a sterling silver chain that girdled her hips, a heavy silver necklace with a pendant symbolic of the Hindu lingam and yoni, long 'liquid silver' earrings that hung from her earlobes almost to her collarbones, her onyx, silver and diamond submissive's ring, four inch heel patent leather pumps on her feet and nothing else. A musky French perfume selected for its striking power wafted its way to my nostrils, its scent mixed with the odor of fragrans feminae. She posed for me, chest up, hips forward, legs akimbo, one hand on her waist, and a smile of feminine witchery on her ruby red lips. Shimmying her shoulders, she strutted across the room to me.

"I believe that my sexiest outfit is myself alone, sir," she said softly. "I do not need to prove my sexiness and my sensuality to my chosen one. He knows that I am his and will serve him as he desires. He knows my needs. He knows I stand ready for him to make use of me any way he wishes. I am ready for you, my darling. What would you have of me, oh my Al?"

I stood up, my drink forgotten. I walked around her like a buyer at a bloodstock sale, examining her from all angles. I stepped in close behind her and held her by the breasts, pinching the tight, erect nipples between my fingers. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against my shoulder, lips parted, whispering, "Oh yes, sir. Oh yes. Whatever you want to do, please do, my lelki tars. I am yours. Use me, please."

I squeezed her boobs and pulled her nipples between thumb and fingers, pinching and twisting them. She sighed contentedly, enjoying the sensations that ran from her tits to her twat. I caught an earlobe in my teeth and nibbled it; she moaned at that. I released her before she could become further aroused, subtly emphasizing that I was in control of her, not she of me. I took her hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom.

I suppose she had subconsciously expected candles burning, incense in the air, perhaps a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. Instead, the place was lit like an operating theater and a small table draped with a tablecloth stood by the bed. On the bed itself, a bath sheet covered a large pillow midway down the bed, about where her hips would be if she were lying on her back. Her eyes widened as she realized four padded leather restraints were waiting to receive her.




Sorodna Dusa



"On the bed, girl, on your back; hands over your head and legs spread wide, with your ass on the pillow under the towel."

She obeyed without a word, eyes shining apprehensively as she took in the items on the table. They included a silver bowl, a silver teapot sitting over an alcohol lamp with steam curling up from the spout, a silver pitcher of water, several neatly folded guest towels, a straight razor with a shaving brush and shaving mug, and an electric hair clipper. I fastened the cuffs on her, pulling her arms up over her head and forcing her legs wide apart with the pillow pushing her vulva into a prominent position. Not satisfied with my access to her nether region, I used two silk ropes to pull her knees up toward the head of the bed, tying them off to the bed frame. She craned her neck to see what I intended.

I picked up the straight razor and opened it. "I promised I would not do anything that would cause you lasting harm, pet," I said conversationally. "No piercings, no tattoos, no cutting, no branding. However, that tangled hayfield between your legs displeases me mightily. I mean to do something about it. At the same time I will mark you as mine. You and I know the signs of a true submissive are invisible, in the head and the heart of the sub. However, having a visible reminder of her submission is reassuring to a sub that has chosen to give her trust and affection to her Dominant. This will do both." With that, I slipped a blindfold I'd hidden beneath the hand towels over Katryn's eyes and inserted earplugs into her ears, compelling her to rely on her other senses to determine what I was going to do to her. As I stroked her breasts, she shivered from what I thought was a combination of horniness, anticipation and fear.

The straight razor was strictly for show, to set her mind to working over what I might do with it. I folded it and returned it to the table. Pouring cold water into the bowl and tempering it with the boiling water from the teapot, I soaked a little towel in it, wringing it out and tossing it from hand to hand until it had cooled enough not to scald. I draped her mound and left the room to retrieve her suitcases while the moist heat did its work.

I unpacked the larger suitcase into the closet and the empty bureau in the bedroom set before turning to the smaller case. Its contents told me a great deal of what my new submissive preferred in the sexual arena. There were a couple of hard rubber dildos, but no vibrators. This pleased me. Women who enjoy orgasm but have no man can all too easily become so addicted to vibrators that they can't climax from intercourse no matter what their partner does. There were a couple of butt plugs and a tube of lubricant for them. I found a pair of nipple clamps connected by a chain as well. Interesting.

She had thoughtfully packed an underbust corset that matched her hair; garter belts and genuine silk stockings in a couple of styles; and two more pairs of stiletto heels to wear with them. She also had a set of leather wrist cuffs, a matching corset collar with three ornate rings, snap clips to fasten things with, and some disciplinary items. There was a black leather flogger, a boiled leather paddle with large holes drilled in the working surfaces, a riding crop, and a flogger made up of dozens of fine silk cords with multiple knots worked into each cord bound to a wooden handle. I smiled, moved the clothing items to a drawer. I left the BDSM gear in the case and set it by the bed, ready for use.

I returned to my bound beauty. She was breathing hard but was not panic-breathing, which I found reassuring. It may have been some time since she had been down this road, but she was not a virgin submissive. Plugging in the hair clippers, I removed the hot towel and tossed it into the bathroom. I studied the red bush between her legs for a minute before I set to work with the clippers.

She started as the cold steel touched her skin, straining against her bonds; but I had tied her down tight for more than one reason. I cut her pubic thatch short but not down to stubble. The quarter-inch or so of hair I left her went a long way toward revealing the treasure waiting betwixt her thighs, but not nearly far enough. Discarding the clippers, I applied unscented shaving soap, roughing out a pattern in her short and no longer curlies. Using a new woman's razor I had concealed under the towels, I shaved a narrow swath just above the clitoral shaft to use as a boundary marker. Working quickly, I removed more pubic hair from her mound, leaving only an arrowhead that pointed unerringly to her cunt. We were now ready for the main event.

I inserted my fingers into her. She moaned and tried to grab them with her pussy muscles, but I wasn't doing this as foreplay. Pulling her labia majora high to tighten the skin, I shaved them clean, first on the left, then on the right. I took my time, removing every bit of the pussy fur that had masked her coochie from public view. Satisfied, I wiped her clean, noticing the clear fluid leaking from her cunt that betrayed its readiness. I removed the table to the next room down the hall and washed my hands in the sterling bowl before I returned to her.

Removing the earplugs from her ears, I said, "That is much more the thing, Katryn. From now on, I expect you to keep your legs, armpits and pubis depilated, excepting the arrow I left to show the way to your garden of delight. I won't tell you how to do it; I merely require that you do so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Your submissive is to keep herself clean for you at all times."

"What are you to keep clean for me, pet?"

"I am to keep my vulva clean for you -- OH!"

The knotted silk flogger snapped onto a taut nipple. "No, slut. Doctors use medical terms. Submissives don't have vulvas. They have cunts. They have pussies. They have twats. They have all sorts of vulgar names for their sex organs. Now, what are you to keep smooth for me?"

"I am to keep my cunt bare and ready for you at all times, by any means I like, sir."

"Very good. You are learning. Now I will teach you some more of what I like, precious."

Leaning over her newly shaved mound, I ran my tongue along the exposed labia, tasting her sweet juices. I teased her pussy lips for a minute or two before moving my attention to the bud standing free of its hood, the shaft supporting it already swelling with blood to expose her pleasure center to my eyes. I slowly licked the length of it, careful not to touch the clit itself. Using my tonguetip, I laid a beat down on the clitoral shaft. My sub moaned and wriggled under the stimulation, her swelling pussy revealing her desire and eagerness for more. I slipped one finger into her gash, moving it in and out freely as her wetness eased its entrance into her inner passage. A buzzing began in my head with this more intimate contact, as it had the night before.

"Oh yes, sir... oh yes... please... please use me. Use me any way you like, my lelki tars. I am yours to use. I feel your lust and your control. I want it. I want you. Let me please you, my own darling. I will obey you gladly, for I am yours and you are mine. Please, use this slut who belongs to you for our pleasure! Let me please you!"

The buzz intensified as I used two fingers to finger-fuck her, slowly increasing the pace and penetration as I masturbated my sub. She rocked her pelvis as much as she could, trying to pull my fingers deeper into her. I heard her cry out as I engulfed her clit and clitoral shaft with my mouth, sucking hard and at the same time lashing the bud with my partly dry tonguetip.

"Oh yes... oh yes, oh yes, oh yes oh yes oh yes... so hot, so bright, so good, please, please, please please please please -- Oh YEEEESSSS!"

I felt it behind my eyes as she came, a splash of colored lights and tiny, shimmering starbursts in my head. I felt her legs and arms straining against their bonds while she threw her head back and cried her climax for me to hear. My fingers were soaked with her nectar as I rose from my position alongside the bed to discard the smoking jacket and step out of my trousers and slippers. She was purring with the satisfaction of a woman who has just enjoyed a powerful orgasm as I climbed between her legs and reached up to remove her blindfold. Katryn locked her eyes to mine.

"Please, take me! I need you to! I want you to! Mount me and make us whole, my darling sir! Use your cunt for our pleasure! Fuck me now! Take me!" she pleaded.

I took hold of my cock and slapped it several times against her waiting pussy. She gasped with delight as it hit her clitoris, a sunburst blooming in her eyes and mine with each impact. I felt rather than heard her moan as a small climax fired in her groin and sent a trail of lust burning like gunpowder along her neural pathways. Wanton desire flared like green fire in her eyes. I could feel her box opening and closing beneath me as she begged to receive my rigid manhood. Wetting the head of my cock with the female juices seeping out of her eager cooze, I took my submissive for the first time without the barrier of a condom between us.

It was like being caught in a psychedelic vortex. We seemed to be spinning around the maypole of my stiff penis like a pair of Olympic skaters clutching ribbons that were nerves connecting us, whirling together until there were no longer two distinct people but only one being pursuing its pleasure and completion with single-minded determination. We thrust together in a timeless rhythm, the aquatic sounds of cock and cunt blending with the grunts and cries of that conjoined being aflame with the joy of perfect pleasure seeking the orgasmic peak.

We stretched our inner selves, joined but now more distinct, able to find pleasure points like taunting female nipples meant to be sucked hard and pulled between male teeth to make the female scream aloud in joyous pain, with no line between the sensations. Female cunt muscles grabbed at hard male cock, trying to pull the prick filling the pussy deeper, resisting the backwards stroke and yielding to its powerful forward motion as it drove deep enough inside for pubic bones to bump in maximum penetration. Again I felt her cum, blazing streaks of light peppered with burning stars scorching across my brain as she peaked, only to learn a taller peak lay ahead on the sexual ridgeline we traversed. I could hear her inside and outside my head. Her cries goaded me to new heights and depths of fucking.

"Oh sir, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! So good! Never felt so much before! I want you! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Deep! Hard! No pain, only pleasure and more pleasure! Let me please us, sir! I want you deep inside! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck -- fuck -- fuck -- fuck -- fuck -- AAAAHHHH! AAAAHHHH! AAAAHHHH! AAAAHHHH! YEEEESSS!"

She convulsed under me, her entire body shaking and bouncing like a tree in a windstorm, her beautiful face contorted, her head whipping back and forth until I was sure it must twist free of her neck. A thousand skyrockets exploded in a magnificent fusillade I could feel in every fiber of my being, driving in and out and never giving her a chance to let her orgasm end. Somehow I could see myself through her eyes, a well muscled masculine male in good condition using her as she so desperately needed to be used, taking possession of her, body, heart and soul. I bent to her lips and kissed her open mouth, savoring the taste of her. I could feel her rejoicing in this and fucking me back with an urgency to seal us as one; and I could hear her in my mind though she spoke not one word.

"Never have I felt anything as powerful as this, my Al! This is what God intended men and women to feel when they are one with their sorodna dusa. I am yours and you are mine, my sir. Oh, how many years did we waste before we found each other! I can never let you go now, moja draga. I will love you with a love that will echo down the ages...."

"Nor have I felt anything like this," I thought back. "I've had many women, but never anything like this! I will take you as my own and give you the domination you crave and the discipline you need. We will be one and you will be mine, Katryn, my beautiful slut, my submissive, my lover."

Her lovely green eyes widened first in shock, then softened with happiness as we rocked together. Could she possibly have heard me as I had heard her? She was climaxing continuously and I was nearly at my own peak, the pressure in my balls no longer to be denied. I grabbed her breasts and squeezed them hard as I came.

"AIEEEEHH!"

My cum geysered into her waiting body like electric plasma, shooting deep into her as a supernova burned through us. She screamed ecstatically as she received my spunk in her sopping wet pussy. My head was spinning from the sensation. I barely managed to release Katryn from her bonds before I collapsed next to her on the bed, unable even to form words as I tried to assimilate the experience we had just given each other. Stiff as she was from the restraints, she still managed to crawl onto my body, her head on my chest and our arms around each other as we faded into a deep sleep.

I awoke about an hour later to find her studying me, her fingers gently tracing scars on my body I had picked up in 30 years of Army service in faraway places. Her face bore an expression of serene peace and confidence. Seeing my eyes open, she took my hand, kissed the palm and held it to her breast.

"I await your orders, my sir. What would you ask of me?"

"First, my darling," I said, cupping her breast and drawing her up to kiss her inviting lips, "that for a time you hold my status as your Dominant in abeyance and answer me as a woman answers her love. Will you do that for me, Katryn?"

"Of course, Al," she said, snuggling into me.

"This may sound a little... mystical to you, but answer me honestly. Do you believe in ESP, telepathy, things like that?"

"I did not before tonight, despite Babica's tales of dusa Mates," she admitted, "but you have given me cause to reconsider. I loved it when you called me your beautiful slut.

"Did you hear me speak in my mind, Al? Or are we both insane?"

"What does 'moja draga' mean, Katryn?"

She looked at me, comprehension dawning on her face. "It means 'my darling,' Al. I called you that in my head as you kissed me while we fucked. You heard me? What does that mean?"

"It means those stories of your grandmother's are not fairy tales but descriptions of what it feels like when soul mates meet, my sweet. You are my soul mate and therefore I must be yours. I would be a fool to let you escape from me."

The look on her face was of dawning hope. Up to now I had been unsure of my feelings toward Katryn -- or to be honest, I had refused to believe what I was feeling, that it was possible for there to be a woman destined to be mine by a beneficent Providence. In addition, I'd had a hard time wrapping my head around the simple fact that my one true love could make herself known to me by the simple act of touching. But as she could hear me and I could hear her, those old folktales must be the truth.

The logical extension of this was Katryn and I were meant to be a couple. Perhaps more than that; but first we needed to define our relationship and determine our compatibility.

I found her lips and we kissed, a long, languorous kiss that was doubly enjoyable because of the prickling fizz that accompanied each skin-to-skin contact. I enjoyed the feeling and Katryn's sighs and soft moans as we caressed each other's bodies, learning our erogenous zones. I discovered she was really turned on by a light scratching of her aureolas; she discovered I found a feather touch along my spine incredibly arousing. I slowly pulled away from her talented lips and looked at her.

"If you were responding as a woman and not as my submissive, Katryn, how would you prefer to be taken by your lover?"

"That's easy," she said, running her nails down my chest to find my rampant penis. She gently grasped it and began to stroke it slowly. "After kissing the way we have been, I'd stroke my lover's cock with my hand until it was as long and hard as I could make it... like this. I'd feel the hot blood filling his prick, eager for my touch, wanting a woman to use it or to be used by it. I'd play with it, feeling it throb with his pulse as I caressed his rod. The head would start to swell as I teased it, sliding my hand up and down the shaft, squeezing it, stroking it until there was no slack left in the skin, so long and hard the foreskin is stretched taut. I'd watch the pre-cum ooze from it, feel his balls tighten.

"Then I would take that so ready cock into my mouth. I would suck it until I was sure it was as hard as it could get. Then I'd get up on my hands and knees, head down, my titties touching the mattress. I'd pull my cheeks apart until my pussy winked at my lover and he could see my hot, wet cunt waiting for him.

"I'd say, 'Take me.' And I would feel his iron hardness part my pussy lips and drive into me, burning with lust and passion as he split me open. He would use my cunt while I got used to his prick in me, and then I would thrust back at him, using him as he used me, until he popped his wad into my cunny. If he was a very good, lover, I might cum. I don't climax with every man who has me, my Al.

"But with you, moja draga! When you are inside me I cannot resist. The feelings you give me are the ultimate in ecstasy. You bring me to climax so easily, and so often! I never want to stop. This is heaven for me. I respond to you as your submissive, your lover and your love at the same time. Command me and I obey gladly. Control me and I feel nothing but joy. And when we can admit to our love, sorodna dusa, we will become what we should be." She smiled up at me expectantly.   

I kissed her, taking control of her mouth as her tongue and mine dueled for right of way. The low-level fizzing we had been enjoying ramped up a notch as I fucked her mouth with my tongue and she sucked on it. At the same time, she tightened her hold on my woody and began to stroke it slowly. I could feel it getting harder as she masturbated me, running her thumb over the head and smearing the pre-cum over the purple helmet on top of the lengthening shaft. My cock got longer and thicker, the slack in the foreskin being taken up as it swelled. Breaking the kiss, Katryn slid down my body and engulfed my prick with her mouth. She took her time about it, working it, her tongue busy flicking and swirling around the shaft, seeming to follow the twisting blue veins and trailing a stream of electric fire behind it. She sucked in time with the beating of my heart and to my astonishment the erection I'd have sworn could grow no larger thickened and grew so long the skin of my penis burned with anticipatory pain. The veins in my eyes sparked red and gold with each heartbeat. There was a buzz in my ears as she released my throbbing member and crouched on the bed in the classic submissive position: head down, ass elevated, legs parted, tits brushing the bed linens. Her hands rose to her asscheeks and pulled them apart, exposing her rosebud and her pussy. The clear slime shining on the pink pussy lips poking out of her mound was proof of her readiness.

"Take me, sir," she begged, bobbing her ass at me.

Breathing like a Brahma bull ready to come out of the rodeo chute, I got up behind her and seized her by the hips. With one strong thrust, I was inside her.

"AIEEHHH!" she screamed as I entered her. She shuddered as a climax blew through her body, echoed in my brain as a starburst viewed through an oil lens thumped my head and blurred my vision. My body was on autopilot, driving in and out of her cunt, manipulating her in time with my hips shoving my battering ram in and out of the sally port between her legs. I tried to reach out to her through our sorodna dusa link and was gratified to 'hear' her inside my head.




Sorodna Dusa



"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Ohgod! Ohgod! So huge! So hard! So deep in me! Oh, my Al, my master, my moja draga, my love! Use me like this forever! Make me cum on your beautiful cock, my sir! Oh please -- please -- please -- more -- more -- harder -- deeper -- fuck my cunt -- make me cum --"

"Fuck me back, Katryn! You feel so hot on my cock! Fuck me like you mean it, slut! Fuck me good or I'll spank your ass! Fuck me back!"

"Ohhhhh," she moaned as her ass began to thrust back against my groin, instantly finding the right rhythm. "Oh yes! Oh yes! Uh! Uh! Uh! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fuck your slut! Fuck me hard!" she demanded.

My response was to pick up the knotted silk flogger and smack her tight ass with it, a good sharp lick. There was an explosion of color across my inner eye, like fluorescent ink dropped into still water that turned into billowing clouds emanating from the point of impact.

"That sounded like an order, sub! Your job is to provide us pleasure! You think about that first and last before you think about anything else, slut! Move that ass of yours while I punish your insolence!"

The silk snapped onto her ass, the cords leaving little red stripes and the knots raised darker ones. She squealed and shoved herself harder against me, taking my cock all the way onto her cunt before pulling forward to receive another stroke of the lash and ram herself back onto my prick again. Her butt cheeks shimmied as she worked her ass to pleasure me while the iron-hard rod in her pussy forced her up the mountain toward another orgasm. Still moaning audibly and silently, my lover used all of the skills in her magnificent body to bring us both to climax. With every lash she received, another color-cloud burst across our shared vision. Her cries grew more heartfelt.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yes! Oh yes! So good! So hot! Hot in my cunt! So hot! Fucking me! I am yours! Yours! Yours! Fucking cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Use me! I want it! I want it! Make me, master! Make me! Please, sir! Please! Please! O-H-H-H -- Y-E-E-E-S-SSS!"

I felt her convulse spastically under me and around my cock as she came for us. The feeling was indescribable. Its force left her quivering beneath me as she wallowed in the ecstasy. I released her hips, reached down and grasped her by the wrists, pulling her body up and arching her back as I continued to thrust the raging erection between my legs into her willing body.

"Fuck me, Katryn! Fuck your love back! Use your pussy to please me! Make me cum, girl! I love using you as your Dominant! I love you! Consecrate our bond by cumming for me, you marvelous slut, my submissive, my woman, my soul mate! Fuck your master! Make me cum in your twat, sub! Use your body to pleasure us! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Held upright as she was, she could not thrust back against me easily. Instead, she whipped her ass in a figure-8, somehow making her pussy muscles rhythmically squeeze the cock ravishing her cunt like a farmer stripping a cow's teat. It was as though she was simultaneously masturbating and fucking the proud male flesh in her twat, and it drove me over the edge.

"AAAHHHH! FUUUCCCKK!"

It was like being at the center of an exploding bomb as our orgasm tore through the two of us. I could feel the texture of the colors that blew our minds as I shot my load into Katryn, each spurt of my spunk punctuating the initial blast with another chrysanthemum starburst. Our bodies suddenly slickened with sweat as the sensations overwhelmed us and sent us tumbling down, down, down into the golden afterglow the like of which made any climax either of us had ever had pale into insignificance by contrast. Our minds united by the experience, we collapsed together onto the bed in the little-death that only happens with the very best sex and not every time even then.

Some indeterminate time later -- it could have been seconds or it could have been centuries -- we came back to ourselves. We were once again two discrete beings. Two temporarily united spirits now separate, each poorer for the loss of the other.

"Hello, my darling," I said, gathering Katryn in and cradling her head on my shoulder, my hands lightly stroking her back and flanks. Her glorious green eyes looked into mine, soft and tender with a look I'd only seen on the faces of teenage girls in proximity to lusted-after rock stars in photographs, adoring me.

"Oh, my love," she whispered, like me not wanting to sully the moment with words which might spoil what we were feeling. "I see you, and feel you, and know you as I've known no other man."

"As I know you, my precious love, my very own," I responded. I knew I sounded inane, yet not. Only the two of us could know the depth of feelings and emotions within our bond as we spoke, talk being a woefully inadequate, single-sense medium that could not compare with having been joined mind-to-mind and heart to heart in a fusion words could not begin to define. She smiled, understanding what I could not say aloud; the symbology to explain it does not exist in any spoken or written language. Her fingers drew the tension remaining in me out of my body as mine did to hers. Neither of us could tell which of us fell into deep, secure sleep first.

I awoke at my usual time in the morning, stiff with not having moved during the night lest I disturb the loving woman sharing my bed. Easing out from under her, I slipped into exercise togs and repaired to the back porch where my rod-resistance home gym awaited my daily exercise session. I was nearly done when Katryn found me, dressed in one of my long-sleeved shirts and her stiletto heels. I had never seen a sexier woman the morning after the night before. We did not need to talk; an embrace, a gentle kiss and walking into the kitchen with interlaced fingers spoke volumes for us.

After a day begun with oatmeal made with steel-cut oats sautéed in butter and then boiled with regular rolled oats, we set to work putting up drywall in the dining room. One might have expected me to bring my sub upstairs or downstairs into a dungeon to be spanked and used as a sex toy, but there is more to being a Dominant than simply controlling your sub's sexuality and satisfaction. Katryn knew this as well as I, and was pleased simply to be with me, doing a task which needed doing. I did not neglect her need for physical contact, stroking her arms and legs and squeezing her breasts as we passed or while she held up the sheetrock while I screwed it into the studs; but I did not need to satisfy our needs with a Scene. We were already more intimate than any BDSM scene could make explicit.

As evening came on, I decided we had earned an evening out.

"Katryn my pet, let us clean up, put on our glad-rags and go out tonight. That black dress, properly accessorized, will do for what I have in mind. Would you like that?"

"Whatever you like, sir, we will do, as I agreed."

I required Katryn to don the corset she had brought with her. After she had it on, I laced it much tighter than she'd had it. It narrowed her waist noticeably and made her firm B-cups look larger than they were. She put the silver jewelry she'd worn the night before back on after she had done her make-up. I was in a tailored tuxedo complete to hand-tied bow tie; we complemented each other nicely. The car I brought out was not my pedestrian Taurus wagon but her BMW; so much classier. We set off in style to the place I had selected for our night out.

The Majestic Ballroom is a building with a history. Built in what today would be called exurbia within driving distance of Washington, several smaller cities and big towns just before the Crash of 1929, its pseudo-Moorish lines and motifs had adapted to and survived the Swing Era, the Big Band Era (it had been a favored venue of both Dorsey brothers and Glenn Miller), rock 'n roll, (Buddy Holly, Elvis and Frankie Valli had all made the Majestic a regular stop on their tours), the rise of Rock and big Country acts (it is a favorite of both Dolly Parton and Ted Nugent), and even the Disco Era. Rumor has it the world's largest disco ball is stashed somewhere in the basement of the place.

Musicians love the acoustics of the ballroom. Their management loves the fact that when the tables and chairs are removed, between the second floor balcony that looks down on the dance floor, the raised, railed first floor tier that like the second floor runs along three walls and gives a good view of the stage and the dance floor itself, you can pack 4,000 screaming fans or more into the place. It's a very intimate venue for its size.

However, the operant word in the Majestic's name is 'ballroom.' The parquet dance floor is huge, big enough that back in the day regiments training for World War II service had thrown regimental balls there. It remains a popular venue for upper class weddings, proms, college formals, political gala functions and even drill team competitions from the military academy-type secondary schools which dot the countryside in this part of the South. Even with all these competing functions there are many nights when dinner and dance are the order of the day, and this was one of them.

With Katryn's fashion-model looks, we turned more than a few heads as we walked into the main room. The maitre d' led us to the table I had reserved on the first floor tier overlooking the dance floor and I seated her. Menus and a wine list materialized at once. Katryn automatically deferred to me in the matter of what to eat and drink, but I could tell from her sparkling eyes that she approved of my choices.

As we ate, we watched the dancers on the floor. Most of the couples fell into two categories. There were the well off, silver-haired retirees who had been dancing all their lives; pairs who had danced together for so long, you could blindfold them and still have them move gracefully across the floor without hitting anyone. Then there were the nouveaux riches who had figured out that tons of loot alone do not guarantee a welcome into the upper class. It takes excellent manners and a counterfeit of breeding as well as lots of green to gain entry into the rarefied realm of the monied elite. A few months of lessons can't imbue the ease and muscle memory required to dance without thinking about it as those who have always had money do. It was easy to tell who was which.

After we had eaten, I led Katryn onto the dance floor. She had learned to dance during her modeling days; I'd learned as a junior officer. We had a good idea of our skill levels thanks to our psychic connection. What was more important, we could sense what we each were about to do before we did it. The result was our graceful movement across the parquet. Though it was the first time we'd danced, we moved as confidently as partners of years' standing. She never took her eyes from my face as I piloted us around the dance floor, and I stood prouder because of it. We might not have been ready for Blackpool, but we were head and shoulders above most of the other couples out there.

We had been chatting as we waltzed and foxtrotted to the music from the house band. Now they segued into a tango. There is no need for a couple to talk if they know the language of tango.

Our opening was a little awkward. During her modeling days in Europe, Katryn had learned International Style tango. I'd learned Argentine tango when I'd had been assigned to train Special Forces units during the Ejercito Argentino's reorganization in the late 1980s following the Army's poor performance in the Falkland Islands War and the restoration of civil government to Argentina. International is the open form of tango in which the partners bow their upper bodies outward, away from each other. I had been taught the closed form in which the partners are corps a corps, much more intimate. Without being told, she adopted my style. We moved sensuously across the floor, the less skilled dancers instinctively clearing the way for us to step out flamboyantly.

It is impossible to conceal your intentions towards your partner when you tango. A common canard claims the dance originated in the bordellos of Buenos Aires as a way for the girls to size up the johns before taking them upstairs for a ride on the magic mountain. I had no doubt Katryn knew that I wanted to drag her off the dance floor, spread her on a table and take her. I could tell she was willing for me to have her right here if that was what I wanted. By the time the dance was over, her chest was flushed and my erection was downright painful. We went back to our table, where dessert and a bottle of champagne waited for us.

After we finished dessert, I reached into my pocket and set a small black velvet box on the table.

"I have been thinking about what your grandmother told you about soul mates, Katryn. I believe she is right. I just never expected to find mine. Now that I have, with your consent I will never let you go." I pushed the box toward her.

She opened it slowly. A two-carat diamond in an antique cut winked up at her in the subdued lighting. While serving in the Balkans, I had discovered a cache of jewels in a cave that had been hidden following who knew which revolt, revolution or uprising; this diamond had been part of it. I took her hand and reached out to her, mind to mind, through the fizzing of the physical contact.

"Do you consent to become my wife as well as my submissive, Katryn Pokoran?"

She did not answer in words. She took the diamond from its box and slid it onto her ring finger. She then held my hand to her breast, heedless of the looks from couples at the tables around us, locking her eyes to mine as she raised my hand to her mouth and kissed the palm. I could hear her inside my head.

"Oh yes, my master! I will be your wife and your devoted slave, my sorodna dusa, for as long as we live. I will love you and make you happy, in bed and out of it, as you make me happy and complete. I am your woman, your soul mate, your submissive and your love. While we live, I will not let you go from me. I do not ask that you confine yourself to me. A woman is foolish if she does not realize men have a biological compulsion to bed as many women as they can. But as long as you come home to me, if you ever feel the need to fuck another woman I will not complain."

"Why would I need to take another woman when I have you in my bed?" I asked through out mental bond. "Sex is fun; but sex without the bond we share as soul mates cannot compare with what we have, Katryn. Look in your memories and tell me if I am wrong."

"You are not wrong," she whispered, speaking aloud. "I am your woman, your loving slave, now and always. You are my man and my master. Becoming my husband in the eyes of the law will not change that. It just makes it clear that I am yours. But we know that already."

As she spoke, she sent me a vivid picture of herself lying on her back in her corset and heels, exquisite legs spread wide; her swollen twat glistening wetly up at me. Her eyes were flame and her body was wanton and wanting to be taken by her Dominant.

"Please, master. Take me to your bed and allow me to consecrate our bond by filling my aching cunt with your huge, hard cock. Discipline me and then mount me so I can pleasure you. I want you deep inside me as I love you and obey you." Without another word I motioned for the check.

We raced each other to the bedroom when we got back to the house. I stripped her of her dress but left her in corset and heels. Obedient to her wishes, I cuffed her hands to a pair of sturdy eyebolts screwed into the joists overhead by the window where they might be taken for something from which to hang plants. From her case of toys I selected the nipple chain. Stepping in front of her, I sucked her nips, feeling them harden against my tongue as her hot blood rushed to fill them. Her moans were music to my ears, as was her yelp when without warning I applied the clamps and twisted them tight. I watched those lustful nipples swell as the clamps held back the blood from returning, forcing them to grow longer and thicker. Smiling, I picked up the knotted silk flogger and stepped up to her.

"Aieee!" she screamed as the cords smacked into her buttocks. Lines marking their impact instantly appeared on the pale skin of her luscious ass. "Please, master!"

I couldn't tell if she was pleading for me to stop or begging for more; either way, it didn't matter. She was my slave girl to be used as I wished. WHACK! The next stroke came in backhanded, crossing the lines of the first at a ninety-degree angle on her nether cheek. I continued to flog her, firmly but not viciously as she squirmed in her cuffs, helpless to stop me. Her cries were a goad, urging me on.

"Please, master! Whip me! Punish me! Give me the discipline I need! I am your cunt, your slave, your slut! I am your to use as you wish! Use me! I love it! Use me! Use me! OHHHH, Y-E-S-S-S!!" She writhed in the throes of orgasm.

Under the stimulation of my lashing, sex-syrup leaking from her nether lips glistened on her mons. As she came, in the glass of the window I saw her pussy winking at me as it involuntarily clasped, seeking a cock that wasn't there to be milked by her eager box. I sent my next stroke in from the front to gently lash her clitoris.

"A-A-A-H-H-H-H!!"

Katryn's legs shook and she climaxed again, her juices spilling out of her mound to run down her thighs. A second stroke to her pubes brought another cry and another climax as she shuddered in her chains. As she lost herself in the pleasure, I unclipped the nipple clamps and tossed the chain aside. She groaned as her no longer compressed nerves announced the fact to her brain with bursts of burning pain. I took careful aim.

"AIEEEEEHHHHH! A-A-A-H-H-H-H!! A-A-A-H-H-H-H!!"

Her legs buckled and she hung by her wrists as the bolt of pleasure-pain-ecstasy burned through her from the impact of the silk flogger on her swollen nipples, the small knots feeling like a load of birdshot on the tortured, sensitive labile tissue. I stepped in and kissed her hard, one hand wrapped into her red hair helping me control the kiss as I fingered her pussy with the other. She pressed into my hand and mouth, eager for my touch as she came yet again, her climax and her need pouring into me through our physical contact like a coronal flare of the sun in shades of gold delight and red lust. Breaking the kiss, I opened the handcuffs and swept her up into my arms, laying her on her back on the bed. I looked at her. Unbidden, she spread her legs wide in invitation, as she had in the vision she had sent me at the ballroom.

"Fuck me, master. Fuck me, Al. Fuck your sorodna dusa! Fill my empty cunt with your huge, hard cock! Fuck me like the slut I am! Take me, please!"

She wriggled under me as I mounted her, a deep moan of satisfaction announcing her pleasure as I filled her wanton pussy with my thick pole, stirring her wet twat as I drove in and out of her. She begged me to screw her, to use her hard, to make her cum, before the feelings of our bodies overwhelmed us both and we were lost in the color, scent and sensation of mutual gratification as we fucked each other. I was in her and she was in me and the boundaries between us were so blurred we could not tell where one of us ended and the other began. I felt the groundswell of her orgasm coming on like a wave rolling into a beach, rising, rising, rushing until it tumbled over itself and broke like a comber on the Banzai Pipeline in Hawaii, sweeping everything before it.

I rode that wave, my cock cutting across it like a surfboard, taking pleasure from my defiance of her instinctual attempts to make me cum in her. Another wave followed the first and I shifted to it, penis-dancing on the crest, laughing at it as I controlled its direction and intensity, barely aware of my hands twisting and pulling her long, hard nipples or her tongue in my mouth or of her hands pulling me to her, as if she could completely envelope me with her cunt. More waves followed and I rode them all, glorying in my control of her orgasmic dynamic until one final breaker rose behind me and took me unawares.




Sorodna Dusa



"A-R-R-G-H-H! Oh -- my -- God!"

I tumbled into the midst of the wave as my cum jetted out of my prick, smashing into the waiting walls of her vagina like shining meteors burning down from the sky into her sexual sea as she came powerfully, her nails digging into my back as her legs wrapped around me and pulled me to her, screaming into my mouth as a mammoth climax took her. We spun around each other, tossed by the currents of passion, lost in each other, unable to find our way back until the waves of ecstasy receded from our consciousness and we found ourselves in my -- no, our -- bed once more, dripping sweat, pussy juice, spunk and a few drops of blood where her claws had scored my back.

"Oh, my darling master," she whispered. "I do love you. I will never leave you until the good Lord sees fit to take me. Until then, I am yours to take whenever and however you wish, my sweet lelki tars." We shifted onto our sides, her head pillowed on my arm. She was asleep before I could even agree with her.

Sunday was spent mostly in our bed as we worked out the inevitable ramifications of Katryn's agreeing to marry me. She naturally wanted us to move in together, but that would not be possible until more of the interior was habitable. Kitty would need a room of her own; I suspected we'd need to install soundproofing in all the bedrooms; and we'd need to put in at least one more bathroom. It is one thing for a retired Army officer who'd spent most of his career 'under the Beanie,' used to roughing it under combat conditions, to live in a half-completed renovation amidst piles of sheetrock and haphazardly scattered boxes with sawdust, plaster dust and plain old dirt all over the place. It is something else again to ask two lovely women to buy into such an existence, especially considering they hadn't agreed to it in advance. When I mentioned this to Katryn, she simply smiled and snuggled closer, commenting, "Master, you don't understand women at all."

"What do you mean?"

"There isn't a woman alive who doesn't have a fantasy dream house somewhere in the back of her mind, built to her design, finished in the woods, stones, metals, paint schemes and wallpapers of her choice, and decorated to her own impeccable taste. If you offer Kitty the chance to redo a room in this house to make it her very own, especially a house with the good bones this one has, she'll be over here, toolbox and design magazines in hand, before you can say 'paint brush.' Like us, she likes antiques. We've spent many a Sunday afternoon window-shopping at antique shops. You give her a budget and the offer of help as she needs it, and she'll get the work done quickly even if she has to sleep on the couch downstairs while the paint dries!" She sent me the image of Kitty bundled up in a sleeping bag with one eye watching a clock, and we laughed together. I found it surprising that I, a career bachelor, was looking forward to the instant family I'd have once we were married. The idea of marriage no longer frightened me. I suppose that finding the right woman explained why two formerly scary thoughts no longer had the power to scare me.

After a leisurely breakfast and an equally leisurely session of lovemaking, I followed Katryn to her townhouse on the opposite side of town. I didn't tell her, but I've never liked townhouses. They always put me in mind of base housing for junior officers and married staff NCOs. You're never really private when your quarters share walls with the neighbors. Soundproofing is often so poor that if the newlywed lieutenant in a unit on one end of the building whispers to his wife, "Honey, let's fuck," every woman in the building is spread and taken by her husband.

Katryn had a unit in the middle of a block of four. You walked into a hallway with the kitchen and dining room on that floor. One set of stairs led down to a playroom/laundry room; the other, up to the living room. More stairs there led up to a bathroom and two bedrooms, while yet another staircase led to the master suite at the top of the stairs, with a bedroom and en suite bath plus a study or home office. Katryn had converted the en suite home office into a walk-in closet by installing bureau type drawers on one wall, a glass fronted set of wooden shoe shelves on another, and suspending hanger rods from the ceiling. I noticed she had also suspended silk ropes from two of the hangers, apparently as decoration to those not in the know. They gave me an idea, not that I needed much help with ideas for my sweet submissive.

I came up behind her and pulled her gently to me, my hands caressing her through the silk of her blouse. She leaned her head, eyes closed, on my shoulder as one hand reached back to stroke my hair. She didn't move as I unbuttoned her suede skirt, dropping it to the floor. As I'd ordered, she wasn't wearing panties; submissives do not need them. I unbuttoned her blouse, letting it slide from her. She didn't move as I took one of the silk cords and expertly threw a clove hitch on her wrist, then repeated it with her other arm and the other 'decorative' cord. I moved around to face her. She looked at me, lips parted in anticipation.

I put my arms around her and kissed her, taking my time, cherishing her mouth. She sighed, passing her breath into me while I caressed her tongue and lips with mine, hearing her soft moans deep in her throat as I began to arouse her passion. I could feel the fizzing of my blood and felt the sexual heat pouring off her, like red vapor in my inner eye. My hands roamed freely over her body, feather-touching her and stimulating her silky white skin as my tongue possessed her mouth, moving in and out of it like a cock. She sucked on it, trying to hold it inside as she teased it with her tongue. I felt her rub her crotch against me.

I responded by breaking the kiss and dropping my head to her tits. The pink nips were already hard with arousal, anticipating my next move. I dropped my head to them and suckled them without attempting to be gentle. She gasped and thrust her chest upwards, wordlessly begging me to hurt her. I shoved them roughly together and got both nipples into my mouth. First I sucked hard enough to make her moan, then bit down firmly.

"Aaaaah!" she screamed as I raised my head without letting go of her paps and squeezed her boobs hard. "Oh, Master, it hurts so good! Hurt me! Please! I'm yours to use! Make me cum for you! Please!"

I continued to suck on her, feeling her pleasure-pain and sensing the yellow-gold burst of it as I reached down to find her clit and stroke it with a fingernail. She shook and mewled with the sensation as I used the sharp edge of my nail to tease her. She came, her body shivering with the pleasure as I slipped a finger into her, feeling the wetness of a woman who is ready to be taken. But that wasn't what I had in mind for her.

I reached into my pocket and came out with one of the butt plugs she had brought with her for the weekend. I slid it between her nether lips, feeling her shudder with a small climax as I did. I twisted the plug, thoroughly soaking it in her cunt juice, before I reached behind her and pressed it against her anus. She moaned, then gasped in surprise as it passed her anal ring and ended fully and firmly inserted into her ass. I opened my mouth and released her boobs

Kneeling in front of her, my face was level with her pussy. I admired her wet box before I leaned forward and began to eat her. Under my lips and tongue, her labia darkened and swelled with blood, the ancient signals that this woman was ready to receive my cock and my sperm. Katryn was lost in the sensations as I worked her cooze and her clit, moaning aloud and whispering to me through our mental link.

"Oh yes. Oh yes. So good... don't stop. Please don't stop! Please make me cum, Master! I'm so close! I want to cum for you and please you! Uh! Uh! Uh! Ohgod -- please -- make me cum -- don't stop -- don't stop -- aahh, aahh, aahh, ohgod ohgod ohgod --Oh, Y-E-E-E-S-S!"

I felt the orgasm take her in a burst of ecstasy and rough colors tumbling from the sunburst as she came on my face. My mouth and chin were wet with her feminine oils, sweet on my lips as her cum robbed her of her strength to leave her hanging in her bonds. Rising to my feet, I swiftly loosed her wrists. She fell to her knees, her head level with my crotch. A moment later my pants were around my ankles and my thick cock was rubbing against her lips.

"Suck me, slut," I ordered. "Suck your master's dick, slave."

Katryn instantly opened her mouth and took my prick into it, her tongue swirling around it as she worked her way down the shaft. Her check hollowed as she maintained suction, highlighting the planes of her face. With each move of her head she took in a little more until her mouth was full of male flesh. She bobbed up and down on the shaft, humming softly. My vision began to turn red as she fellated me, little golden sparks shooting around the edges as she pleasured me. I could see what she was feeling as we communicated through our mental link.

"I am your slave, my love! I love sucking your cock. I love the feel of it in my mouth and the taste of your juices on my tongue. I want to please you. Use my mouth! Use me! Let me drink your cum! Please cum in my mouth and show how I please you! Please, Master! Please!"

She crossed her arms behind her back as I grabbed her by the hair and roughly began to fuck her face. I used her mouth like a cunt, thrusting deep into it and driving the head of my cock into her throat. She accepted this use of her as her due as I snarled orders to her.

"Suck it, bitch! Suck your master's cock! Take it all the way in! I'm going to cum in your mouth and you are going to swallow it like an obedient little slave! Understand me, girl? Suck me off!"

She could tell through our link that I was playing the role she needed me to play for her, but the brutal language turned her on. She worked my prick harder, moaning, humming, swirling her tongue around it as I went in and out of her mouth. A small puddle of sex-honey appeared between her legs on the carpet as my own climax approached.

"Yes, Master! I want your spunk! Please give it to me! Fuck my mouth and give me your juice. I want it! I want to drink it! Let go and cum in my mouth, Master! Give your slave what she is craving! Let me prove how I love you! Cum in my mouth! Please!"

"A-A-A-A-H-H!"

With a last hard thrust, I held her face to my groin and came with a surge of power, shooting into her throat as she struggled against me, our vision clouded with exploding skyrockets in red and black. As the initial bursts subsided, I pushed Katryn over backwards. She lay splayed on the rug. I knelt between her legs in the puddle of fluid that had oozed out of her coochie and with no hesitation, shoved my still-rigid cock into her.

She screamed as I took her, her arms and legs wrapping around me as I locked my mouth to hers and we began to move as one. She welcomed me into her body, reveling in my use of her.

"Yes, Master! Fuck my pussy! Take me like the slut I am and use my body so we cum together! This is what life is all about -- loving and being loved by my love and my Master! Fuck me, my sir! Fuck me hard! I want you in me! Fuck your slut! Fuck me!"

We screwed like horny teenagers on the floor of her walk-in closet for a long time, gasping for breath, biting, clawing and squeezing each other, shifting positions but always joined by cock and cunt. We lost track of her climaxes as they came faster and harder, the rough red textures and silky yellow splashes interspersing with the diamond-sharp gold starbursts of orgasm, our heartbeats loud in our ears. Finally my balls could stand it no longer and my proud flesh erupted like a fire hose, pure white power flashing across our minds like bold strokes of an artist's brush as I shot my load deep into her cunt. Katryn went rigid, uttered a final shriek of pleasure and collapsed on top of me, utterly spent.

I squirmed out from under her, my flaccid prick sliding out of her pussy. It felt as used up as I did at the moment. I looked tenderly at my submissive for a moment before I sighed and managed to get her up in a fireman's carry, staggering on rubbery legs to her bed in the next room, depositing her as gently as I could onto it. She didn't move, her body slack but her mouth holding a satisfied smile. As I had done once before, I padded into the master bath to return with a warm facecloth and towel to clean her of our sweat, saliva, spunk and female fluids. Covering her with a blanket, I went to take a leisurely hot shower.

When I returned to the bedroom wrapped in a bath sheet, Katryn was sitting up in the bed wearing a black silk peignoir that stimulated fresh imaginings in my head. She had picked up the clothing I had stripped off in her closet, neatly folded it and set it on the foot of the bed. Next to it was a man's silk dressing gown.

"My darling master, you need not dress right away if it does not suit you to do so. I would like to feed you and then have you carry me back up here and use me again, even if you choose to spank me for my presumption."

"What about Kitty?"

She dismissed this with a wave of her hand. "Oh, she won't be back for hours yet. We have plenty of time, my sir. Lots of time."

"Excellent. Perhaps I will remove that plug which has been readying your anus for me and invade your beautiful, firm, submissive ass after we have eaten."

"Oh, I'd like that." She shivered in anticipation as I dropped the towel and motioned for her to help me into the dressing gown, taking advantage of the opportunity to press her to her knees to allow her to lick and suck my rigid prick for a minute or two before we went downstairs hand in hand.

We made cheese and mushroom omelets and ate them at the dining room table that adjoined the kitchen. She cleared the table and returned, coming to kneel beside my chair. I looked a question.

"Master, you have marked me as your submissive, your slut and your woman. I am proud to be all of these to you. But if your submissive may be so bold, she would like to mark you as her Dominant, so if others like me see you, they will know you for what you are: a Dominant who does not need to flaunt himself; who is a natural Master to subs like me. May I do so, please, my sir?"

"What do you have in mind, Katryn?" I asked, visualizing being asked to get a tattoo, a form of adornment that has never appealed to me.

She reached around her neck and brought out a chain and pendant from beneath the peignoir's satin collar. Solid silver, it was a thoroughly masculine piece of jewelry. The chain was of intricately knotted links. The pendant was a larger version of her silver ring, with each of the diamonds in the onyx being at least a half-carat. It was simultaneously a statement and a warning: Do not start anything with me you are not prepared to see through to the finish. I do not play games.

"May I give this to you, my Master, my love, as a token that I belong to you?"

"You may, my lovely submissive."

She kissed my hand and stood, sliding the chain off over her head. Facing me, she carefully fitted it over my head and worked it past my ears to rest on my neck with the pendant resting on my chest about where the button below my collar would be if I were wearing a shirt. She came into my arms and we kissed. My hands roamed over her and squeezed her buns; she moaned in response and snuggled closer. I turned her around and bent her over the dining room table, flipping the silk robe and nightgown up over her back. Unbidden, her hands reached back and pulled her cheeks wide. Reaching between them, I extracted the butt plug from her. Her anus gaped wide, inviting me in. I lined up my rampant cock and rested it against her asshole. Taking her by the hips, we both took a deep breath, the pussy juice that stained the tablecloth marking her readiness.

A key rattled in the front door. "Hello?" Kitty called as she stepped into the front hall, mercifully out of sight of the dining room. We heard her set down her suitcase and close the door. By the time she took the few steps to the dining room we were both decent, but there was no way anyone would conclude anything but that if we hadn't already had sex, we'd been about to. She paled in shock even as we blushed in embarrassment.

"Mother! Mr. Fredericks! What is going on here?"

"Probably what you think, Kitty; but it's all right. We're engaged," I said. This statement earned me a classic teenage eye-roll, head-toss and scornful tone from Kitty.

"Puh-lease! That old chestnut was lame a century ago. Is that your final answer?"

"Al's not joking, Kitty. We are engaged to be married," Katryn said, extending her left hand to her daughter, the diamond on her finger winking in the light. Kitty stared at it.

"You're not kidding? You really are engaged?" she said in disbelief.

I took her by the hand and turned toward the stairs leading up to the living room. "Ladies, I think we need to talk."

I directed Katryn to pour us each a drink, Kitty included. When we were settled, Kitty in an easy chair and Katryn and me on the sofa, she and I tried to explain what had happened; how we had had a literal meeting of minds and discovered we were meant to be. Kitty stared at us as if we had lost our wits. I decided to try another tack.

"Kitty, when you were little, did you ever have the feeling Mommy could read your mind?" She thought about it for a couple of seconds before she shrugged and answered.

"Well... a little. She always seemed to know what I was up to. And Mother could soothe me when I was upset better than the other moms could soothe their kids. I thought about that when I was in Socio-Psych class in middle school, but I figured it was empathy. Some people have it, some don't. Mother has a lot of it."

"There's something to Atticus Finch's saying that you don't really know somebody until you get in their skin and walk around in it for awhile. It may be that in empathetic people, ESP is the source of their understanding and compassion. Your maternal great-grandmother certainly believed in sorodni dusi. There are legends about soul mates back in the old country.

"The thing about legends as opposed to folk tales is that if you trace a legend back far enough, you will find a kernel of fact behind it. A story like this that can't be verified without experiencing it would not have survived in the oral traditions of your mother's people if there were nothing to it. If it were a unique experience, it would be a fairy tale, not a legend. From that, we can infer that the phenomenon is rare but not unknown. I am guessing it's at least partly rooted in telepathy.

"I don't know if this will work, but it can't hurt to try. Take my hands and make a circle. Kitty, relax and try to clear your mind. Katryn, you take the lead." I closed my eyes, the better to see if we could connect with Kitty.

My perception of Katryn seemed to be dimmed, as if I had dark glasses on at twilight. I could still feel her gestalt in my mind and the fizzing in my blood, just not as well as when we were intimate.

"Katryn, can you feel Kitty at all?"

A pause. "Yes. I'll see if I can talk to her, shall I?"

"Go ahead. I'll try and follow with you."

The light/color/texture that was Katryn moved away from me and I stayed with her as best I could. It was like trying to walk down a goat track in the Balkans in the dark of the moon, nothing like the sensuality of the two of us alone. Katryn pulled us toward a giant pearl of pure white, gold-washed light.

We touched it, enveloping it. The pearl did not merge as we did when we made love but remained a discrete object. I could feel Katryn's frown.




Sorodna Dusa



"I can feel Kitty, but I can't meld with her as we do, darling. Have we failed?"

"Not necessarily, my sweet. Project to her in the blind. See if you can show her what we feel for each other."

She sensed my concern about how much of what she should tell her daughter. "I will be discreet, my sir."

Colors brightened and textures sharpened as Katryn relived for Kitty an edited version of our first meeting and first mental contacts, followed by the feelings of unity we enjoyed, especially during sex. My contribution to the broadcast was the image of two puzzle pieces with elaborate cutouts and projections interlocking to form a seamless, perfect whole. When she had finished, we retreated from the pearl. I opened my eyes.

Kitty had let go of our hands and was sitting in the easy chair again. She looked at us with awe tinged with a bit of envy.

"That has to be the most unusual experience I have ever had," she whispered. Louder, she went on, "Mother, if you want this smart, handsome stud-muffin, you've got him.

"You know something, Mr. Fredericks? When the word gets out that you two are engaged, you're going to hear hearts breaking all across the school. Half the girls at Thayer dream about luring you into bed and letting you have your wicked way with them! So do some of the teachers, for that matter."

"So we have your approval, Kitty?" asked Katryn.

She came over and hugged us tight. "You do. You both do." She looked at me and said, "But I have a problem. I can't keep calling you 'Mr. Fredericks' when we're in private. And I can't call you Father; I have a father even though I don't see him often. What do you suggest? Mother, what do you think I should call him?"

"I would suggest 'sir,' or perhaps 'Major.' He used to be in the Army. That will do until after we're married," Katryn said.

"Even after we are married," I added. "I'm not trying to replace your father, Kitty. I'm not your sire. But there is a difference between being a father and being a dad. If you ever reach the point where you can call me Dad or Daddy, I'll know I've made it. Okay?"

"Okay." I was surprised to see tears in the eyes of my two girls.

Life seemed to move quickly after that. As Katryn had predicted, Kitty was delighted at the prospect of having a room she could make her own, and pushed us aggressively to speed up the remodeling. With two extra sets of hands working on weekends and over the Thanksgiving break, even with having to convert the room between Kitty's future bedroom and the existing second floor bath into a private bath for her and a linen closet for the household, we were able to have Christmas at my house. When she returned from a court-mandated visit with Vaughn and his replacement wife after New Year's, Katryn and Kitty moved in with me.

I was surprised at how easily the three of us meshed into a smooth-running family unit. From stories heard during my Army days of families trying to get it together when one parent with kids remarried after a divorce, whether the new partner had kids or not there was always a long period of adjustment before stability was achieved within the 'blended family.' Kitty accepted my role as her mother's partner and treated me with the same respect at home that she did at school. I continued tutoring my not-yet-stepdaughter as Katryn and I had planned before we became lovers, and was pleased with her progress in all areas. I assured my fiancée that I had no doubt Kitty could get into any university she wanted. I talked to Kitty about sending off applications for early action by Auburn, Cornell, William & Mary, George Washington University, and Brown. Any of them would be happy to land a girl with a 3.68 GPA who was also a varsity gymnast.

The two of them were planning our wedding. Like all prudent grooms, I stayed out of the way and kept my mouth shut except when asked for an opinion. Katryn picked the date, the church, the reception hall and the menu. Her famous designer friend had persuaded her to return to the runway for a couple of shows modeling bridal, bridesmaids and mother-of-the-bride gowns in exchange for creating her wedding gown and those of the bridesmaids. The only thing I insisted on was because the groom, best man and groomsmen would all be in Army Blue uniform with medals, the bridesmaids' dresses should be of a complementary color.

When we'd been living together for about four months, Kitty brought up a subject at the dinner table.

"Major, can I ask you if you'd do something for me?"

"As long as it's not illegal or ethically questionable," I riposted, which drew a chuckle from Katryn and a smile from Kitty. "What do you have in mind?"

'I want to trade cars with you, even up." I set down my fork and studied her.

"You want to swap that gorgeous Porsche of yours for my old Taurus station wagon? Why?"

"I'll be going off to college next year. I'll need to be able to pack all my stuff and haul it there. More to the point, a Porsche makes a statement when driven by a girl that is so not how I want people to see me. Your Taurus is practical. It isn't exactly the statement I want to make, but it's a sight closer to me than an expensive foreign convertible is.

"Will you swap cars with me, sir? Please?"

I looked at Katryn, to seek her opinion. Her expression said to me, "Whatever you choose to do, Master." I looked back at Kitty.

"If that's what you want to do, Kitty, we'll sign you out of school an hour early tomorrow afternoon. We'll go to my insurance agent and Motor Vehicles, change the insurance and registration, and exchange keys. You'll walk out of there the owner of my Taurus, and I'll have your Boxster. Okay?"

She got up, came around the table and gave me a hug. "Thank you, Daddy." I didn't say anything; the lump in my throat was too big. I could see tears of joy in Katryn's eyes as well. From then on, I was always 'Daddy' to Kitty when we were in private.

 Before I knew it, our wedding day was upon us. The wedding rehearsal had not gone smoothly. Katryn had thrown a tantrum on walking into the church to discover a white carpet down the center aisle instead of the red she had ordered, pink and white ribbons adorning the pews instead of the royal blue and gold she had selected, and pink silk flower roping on the rails in front of the altar. She had screamed at the wedding planner she had retained to assist her, calling her an incompetent cow and worse. I had to take her outside to calm her down, to the surprise of Kitty who had just driven up. Leaving my bride in the hands of her daughter and her bridesmaids, I returned to speak to the wedding planner and the minister.

The explanation was simple. There were two weddings scheduled for the morrow, one in the morning and ours at 4 PM. There was plenty of time between to take down the roping and the ribbons, replace the white runner with the red one, and put up her blue and gold ribbons along the aisle. I reported the facts back to Katryn, who had the good grace to look abashed. As I led her into the church to apologize to the wedding planner I murmured to her, "Your bridezilla behavior has earned you a punishment when we get home, you ill-mannered slut." She looked into my eyes and shivered deliciously.

After the rehearsal dinner, Katryn went into the bath for a quick shower. We had the house to ourselves; Kitty had asked permission to cut out of the dinner early to see a movie, squired by Duke Duquesne, my best man's eldest, my godson, and a junior at West Point. She seemed quite taken with him. My blues had come back from the dry cleaners and I was pinning insignia and my medals onto the blouse hanging on the closet door when she came out of the bathroom. I finished by placing my Combat Infantry Badge with the two stars signifying the third award above the medals.

"What are they all for, my darling sir?" she asked. I smiled and pointed to them.

"This is the Silver Star, third-highest medal for valor. Next to it is the Legion of Merit, for excellent service not involving combat. Beside it is the Bronze Star with a V for Valor meaning it's a combat decoration, and two stars indicating the second and third awards. The one with the purple ribbon and George Washington's bust is the Purple Heart, awarded for being wounded in action."

"And the little leaves on it?"

"Oak Leaf Clusters, representing repeat awards. We sometimes call the Purple Heart the 'I Forgot to Duck' Medal."

"It looks like you forgot to duck a lot, my sir. And the rest?"

I waved them off. "Awards from foreign governments, commendation medals of various sorts, and I-Wuz-There medals for overseas service that everyone gets just for being there. Pretty, but of no consequence. The ones that matter are the ones that aren't round. If you serve in a combat branch long enough, you can't help but get a medal or two."

She reached out and gently fingered the Silver Star. "I'm not completely ignorant of American medals. This is one they don't pin on just anybody. You have to do something outstanding to earn it. It seems my master is not only a good master to his submissive, but a brave man as well. A brave man who deserves to be rewarded."

"And I will have my reward from you, but not until you have been punished for that bratty display earlier. Off with your clothes, slave."

Her robe fell to the floor. She was naked beneath it. I led her to the two hooks by the window. Two chains hung from them.

"Grab those chains and do not let go," I ordered. She took hold of the chains and I hoodwinked her with a sleep mask.

"Spread your legs, slut."

Katryn took on the shape of an inverted Y. I walked to the drawer that held the toys I used on her and removed some of them. Walking back to her, I whispered into her ear, "You are a lady, or at least you are supposed to be. I expect you to behave that way, not like a petulant, prima donna-type bitch. You hang there and take your punishment as a proper submissive should."

"Yes, Master," she breathed, quivering with fear and anticipation.

I reached down to her pussy and began to finger her. She moaned deep in her throat and pressed herself against my hand. My thumb began to stroke her love button, lightly at first and then more firmly. It wasn't long before her quim began to ooze its natural lubricant, hot and wet on my fingers. She thrust her pelvis forward, trying to pull my hand deeper into her. I responded by pulling my fingers out of her and replacing them with the big butt plug I'd taken out of the drawer. Katryn gasped in surprise as she felt my curved fingers replaced by the unyielding plastic that moved in and out of her slit. When I had it well lubricated, I forced it into her rectum, ignoring her cry of pain as I shoved it home.

I resumed fingering my submissive, replacing the pain in her butt with the pleasurable sensations emanating from her cooze. At the same time I began twisting her nipples, pulling on them in a way I knew she loved while I whispered in her ear.

"Slaves are not allowed to be temperamental. You exist to please your master, to show your pride in his ownership. When you misbehave like a spoiled child, you will be treated like a spoiled child. You embarrassed me, you embarrassed Kitty and you embarrassed yourself today, Katryn. If you were a little girl, what would your father have done to you for behaving as you did?"

"He'd have spanked me," she mumbled through the lust rising from her pussy. "He'd have spanked me. Maybe even switched me and welted my bottom -- "

WHACK! My hand left an imprint in red on her buttocks and she yelped.

"Your what, slave?"

"My ass!" she hastily amended, feeling the burn on her butt cheek. "He'd have used a birch switch on my ass!"

"We don't have any of those handy, but I'll make do."

She cried out as the boiled leather paddle with holes drilled in it smacked into her ass, leaving a waffle-like imprint on her skin. Her nipples were hard nubs jutting out from her breasts and I saw glistening moisture on her inner thighs, sure signs of my slave's arousal. I listened to her whimper between yelps as I spanked her, moaning with pain and need. I could tell she was almost there.

"Please, Master, please!" she begged. "Please! I'll be good! I need to cum! Please make me cum for you! Please!"

I shifted the paddle to my left hand, stepped beside her and took aim with my right.

"AIEEEE!" she shrieked, her thighs pressing together in reaction to my hitting her from behind with the leather and from the front with the knotted silk flogger. She climaxed immediately, her sex-syrup dripping onto the floor. She came again when I brought the flogger down onto her boobs, the little knots lashing her nipples and sending bursts of sensation through her. I stepped closer as she hung from the chains gasping with the force of her release and inserted a curved plexiglass penis into her twat.

"Hang onto that and don't drop it," I ordered. "Your punishment isn't over yet. If you drop it, I'll punish you further! Now, count!"

"Yes, Master," she gasped.

Using the silk flogger, I gave my slut three dozen lashes, slowly, with about five seconds between strokes. I struck her on the buttocks, the upper thighs, on her mound, on her breasts, on her belly. I varied the impact from almost a caress to a whistling strike that made her scream out the number. When I was done, my Katryn was a quivering submissive hanging limply from the chains, her eyes rolled back, somewhere deep inside her head. But she had not dropped the dildo, and I was proud of her. Prying her hands from the chains, I guided her to the bed and positioned her, arms stretched in front of her, her breasts flattened by her own weight, her butt elevated by the pillow under her belly and her legs spread wide. I pulled the butt plug out of her and reached under to gather her juices on my fingers to anoint my cockhead. Finally, I pushed past her anal ring and took her in the ass.

Her being was like a glowing yellow sun with pulsing red veins running through it in a field of velvet black. As I entered her, the sun that was she flared and enveloped me with its heat and need while I drove deep into the heart of her. I could hear and feel her moaning as I pleasured her and myself. She shoved her buttocks hard against me, pulling me as far into her as she could. We moved as one, together in our pursuit of pleasure.

"Use me, Master! Treat me like the cunt I am! Your slave deserves this! Fuck my ass and remind me who is the master! Oh, you feel so good in there! Please don't stop humiliating me! Fuck my ass, Master! I am yours to use, your whore, your courtesan, your sex toy! I love it! Even your taking my asshole like a street woman makes me want to cum for you! Please, Master, let me cum! Let me cum for you so you know how much I please you, my love, my Dom, my lelki tars. Please! Let me cum on your cock!"

I loved Katryn, but never more than when she begged me to prove my love by dominating and using her as the means to achieve mutual ecstasy. With every thrust our commingled corona flared red and purple as I relentlessly drove her toward climax, my swollen, rock-hard cock violating her. I could feel the dildo in her pussy, separated from the male flesh pillaging her ass by only a thin membrane. I reached under her and began to manipulate it, a reciprocating action that alternated anal with vaginal thrusts. She gasped as the dual stimulation forced her over the edge.

"A-a-a-a-a-h-h-h! Oh, Master!"

Her sun went nova, a rainbow burst of colors that expanded and swirled in a rush of hot gas. She went limp under me, surrendering to the burning satisfaction of her climax, wallowing in the sensation. I shifted from alternately filling her to shoving penis and dildo into her at the same time, so she went from almost empty to completely full with no half and half about it.

"Ohmigod! Ohmigod! It's too much! I can't take this, Master! You're too big! Please! Don't! Stop! Please... don't... stop. Please don't... stop. Please, don't stop! Please don't stop! Please don't stop, Master! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my ass! FUCK ME!"

As she got used to the new rhythm, she arched against me, trying to impale herself on the hard male flesh in her guts and the unyielding plastic in her quim at the same time. The fact this required her to move in two directions as once made her quest impossible, but it didn't stop her trying. I ravaged her body on that bed, forcing her into climax after climax until she lost all control of herself. Sounds replaced words as she lost herself in the pleasure. My own control was slipping, but I was determined to force one massive orgasm out of her before I let go myself.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Fuck! Aaah! Oh yes! Cock! Aaah! Cock! Uh huh! Uh huh! Oh please! Oh please! Uh! Uh! Uh! Deep! Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh please -- uh huh -- uh huh -- uh huh -- yes -- yes -- oh yes -- oh yes -- a-a-a-h -- a-a-a-h -- a-a-a-h -- OH Y-E-E-A-A-A-H-H-H-H!!"

She convulsed under me as I blew my load into her ass, hot, sticky cum blasting out of my prick to splash deep inside her bowels, coating them with the proof of her skill as a lover. She squirted around the fake cock in her box, cumming violently and wetly on it as the proof of her climax soaked the bed beneath her. Our minds fused in an eternal instant of color and textures as we came together as one, feeling the explosive compaction of a hydrogen bomb in the micro-instant before the reaction consumes the released energy and send its flying apart again. It's truly impossible to describe; it can only be experienced.

When at last we came back to the world, we were on our knees beside the bed, utterly spent. I pulled the dildo out of her before withdrawing my shrinking cock from her ass. Not bothering with the bed, I reached up and pulled the blankets off to cover us as my willing submissive snuggled into me and we fell asleep on the floor. The smile on her face told me of her satiation and it was enough.

The next day I was picked up by a limousine full of groomsmen and a convoy of my active duty and retired Army buddies in their dress blues just after noon, who lined the front walk to the street singing to the tune of 'The Volga Boatmen,' "You'll be sor-ry, you'll be sor-ry; Don't think so now, but you will be!" and similar traditional airs that urge the groom to run while there's still time. As we pulled away, a second limo filled with the bridesmaids pulled up to the house to help Katryn ready herself for the big day.

That their work was worth it became apparent the instant the organ began to play "The Wedding March." She processed up the aisle alone in an ice blue wedding gown with a slight train, so overlaid with crystal bead embroidery that she looked like she'd stepped out of a Byzantine mosaic, with the beads flashing refracted color in the light coming in the windows. She was a vision. I imagined it was only her catwalk training that guided her through the flashing of camera strobes of the guests, fashion industry trade photogs and the society page photographers to stand next to her bridesmaids in Jungle Green off-the shoulder gowns that complemented the Special Forces branch colors on the epaulets of my groomsmen. That was about as much as either of us remembered of the ceremony.

At the reception afterwards, my best man Colonel Greg Dusquesne, his wife Barbara, their son Cadet Duke Dusquesne in his full dress grey uniform, Kitty, Katryn and I were standing in a corner of the hall talking about the immediate future.

"The paper only said that honeymoon plans had not yet been finalized," said Barbara, a teasing note in her voice. She and Greg had shepherded me through the difficult transition from enlisted to officer status that accompanied my battlefield promotion in Iraq and were among my favorite people in the world. I owed them a lot and as far as I was concerned, they were family. "Usually that means the couple just want to be let alone. But what do you really have in mind?"




Sorodna Dusa



"Well, before we can leave on a honeymoon we need to shepherd Kitty up to Princeton," Katryn said. "She's been accepted to the summer gymnastics and academics program there which starts on Monday. We plan to drive with her there tomorrow, get her settled into the dorm and drive back tomorrow night."

"If you're willing, there's no need for that," said Greg. "Duke here has to report for cadre training at the Point before Beast Barracks starts. Princeton's on the way. We could convoy her there and continue on to West Point with no trouble at all."

"I'd be happy to drive with her," Duke volunteered. "It goes faster with two drivers, and it's safer." Kitty looked at us for permission. From the look on her face, the idea of driving herself to Princeton with a handsome West Pointer as her copilot and escort wasn't at all objectionable. I was holding Katryn's hand.

"What do you think, my darling?" I asked through our bond.

"We have to cut the umbilical some time, my sir," she replied. "She likes him, and he obviously likes her, their three year age difference notwithstanding. With his parents along as unintended chaperones, I don't see a down side here."

"It's all right with us," I said aloud. "I owe you guys one."

"Thank you, Daddy," said Kitty, taking Duke's hand. I wasn't surprised to see him blush.

"Don't be silly," Barbara said. "You two deserve some carefree time. Now c'mon. Give. Where are you going on your honeymoon? Europe? The Far East? Where?"

"Nothing so exotic as that, Barb," I said. "We're going to spend a couple of weeks right now on the family farm I inherited in the Shenandoah Valley -- "

"Carpetbagger," snorted Greg. The Dusquesne family had lived in the Old South since before the Louisiana Purchase. My great-to-the-third-power grandfather had bought the land, two quarter sections or nearly, during Reconstruction with his mustering-out money from the Union Army and the savings from his poker winnings. Even to the local chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy it was known as "the Fredericks place." Greg's ancestors had been on the other side of that war.

" -- And at Christmas break we're going to spend a month in Argentina. One of the officers I trained has an estancia a couple of hours from Buenos Aires. He's retired now and I have a standing invitation to come and hunt with him. Winter up here is summer down there, you know." Greg and Barb both nodded; they enjoyed hunting too.

"Bucolic bliss on a farm isn't exactly what I had in mind," said Katryn through our bond. "You promised me a few days in New York, my darling master."

"And you will have them," I answered the same way. "But the farm has something to recommend it to us. The fields are rented out on a crop-percentage basis. There isn't a neighbor for a mile in any direction. The barn is quite deserted. It's used for hay and grain storage now. It has a pulley system for loading things into the loft that can lift a ton, and a line of peach trees behind it that hasn't been pruned in awhile. There are any number of nice, whippy switches there just waiting to be used on a naughty slut dangling helpless with her feet off the ground and a spreader bar between her ankles, my precious slave-wife. We can be as loud and as nasty as we like there. What do you think of it now?"

Katryn's chest flushed and her eyes shone. She shivered in eager anticipation of the pleasures that awaited her, and us.