9 comments/  19779 views/  7 favorites

The Garden Club Ch. 01

By: MsMarg



It's mid afternoon and I stand at my kitchen window watching the young man work in my garden. There are certain advantages to having a great deal of money. Indulging my hobbies is one of them. My husband is rarely home. Wife seems to be my job description. Viewed that way as much by me as my husband. Somewhere around year two, when I complained of missing him, he told me to get a some hobbies. So I did. This house, its garden, and the young men I hire to work around it. Redoing the kitchen garden is always my favorite project. Seems I have it redone every year. 

He looks hot out there, sweat rolling off his bare chest. Muscles flexing as he moves the grey slate into the dumpster. He runs his hand through his hair. He has quite a reputation already. I have heard he has a brilliant mind, though he seems to like to settle things with his fists. His mom thought some physical labor might help. I have another idea. I intend to find out, exactly what he is made of.

I want him a little more uncomfortable, a little hotter, more weary, edgy. I keep watching, I love the lean long shape to his body. He has a soft happy trail leading into soft jeans barely hanging on his hips. His chest is still smooth, his shoulders are broad, his waist is narrow, he still has that hollow look. He pulls the white wife beater from his back pocket and wipes the sweat from his face. Runs his hand through his hair again. I grab two glasses and pour lemonade for us. 

I continue to watch him move. There is something tense, wound tight in him. He works hard, harder than most of these rich twits. These boys don't work for their paycheck, they work to keep daddy's credit card. The money they earn in a summer wouldn't pay for one of their nights out. The three largest landscape firms in the area are know for the rich boys they hire. Placing them carefully, making sure even though they are working, they are making the right connections. 

A piece of the rubble shifts, coming down on his fingers. He throws his head back, swearing, stabbing his fingers into his mouth. Then he is shaking the hand flexing the fingers a grimace on his face. That's my cue. I pick up the glasses and head out to the garden. I stop in front of the mirror in the mud room. I turned thirty four my last birthday. Anywhere, but here I would be mistaken for my early twenties. But, this is sunny southern California, nothing is what it seems.

My golden hair is pulled tightly off my face, high on my head, cascading down my back from a pony tail. From head to toe my skin is a polished bronze, flawless. My large blue eyes are rimmed in kohl, the lashes long and lush. The gloss on my lips gone, probably from chewing them while watching him. I quickly apply a fresh layer of forbidden red gloss. I pick up the glasses and head for the back yard.

I can feel him watching me as I make my way to the kitchen garden. He should be watching, I work hard to look like this. I spend four days a week in the gym, two at the salon, and my husbands fortune to hang very expensive clothing on the results. I am Laurel Forested, rich bitch, trophy wife to Robert Forested, the owner, CEO, and general prick of Forested Lumber. 

I hand him the lemonade, he takes the glass and downs the liquid. I take the empty glass, stepping in as close as I dare. If I took a deep breath my chest would brush against his. I hand him the lemonade I intended for myself. 

"It's starting to shape up our here. It looks like hot, tiring work. I thought you could use a break." It's my opening shot, let's see how this goes. How easily can I provoke him? 

"Ya, think" he kind of mumbles He can't keep his eyes off me. I have watched them travel from my high and perky breasts to my long bare thighs. From the bulge in the front of his jeans, he is already distracted. I step back, and start talking about my plans for the garden. I point to the different beds, making sure to stretch and bend giving a full view of my body. Then I see it, a weed in the herb bed, I bend from the waist, stretch, and pluck the offending bit of green. 

He snarls "Nice ass" gotcha I think to myself. I straighten, look him square in the eye, and I slap his face. I slap him hard, it snaps his head, and leaves a clear hand print on his cheek. His mouth drops open in shock, before he can recover, I grab his chin. I hold his face still and I kiss him. I kiss him hard. I nip at his lips, biting, pulling, relentlessly until they part. Our tongues tangle, then he is kissing me back. Really gotcha, I think, stopping the kiss. I slap his face again, harder if that is possible, turn on my heel and walk back into the house. 

I can feel his gaze following me. I am sure I know the expression on his face. Confused, hot, horny and angry. In a word perfect. My walk to the house is slow, controlled, deliberate. I am wet, there is tension in my lower belly, excitement, anticipation. Every step moves the fabric of my bikini against my parts. It is exquisitely excruciating. Once in the house, I let my control go, I practically sprint to the kitchen. I want to watch him, need to watch him.

I gaze out the kitchen window. He is still standing exactly where I left him. His gaze is fixed where I disappeared from view. His right hand is gently caressing the still visible hand print on his cheek, his left is running over the bulge in his jeans. I see his hand tighten squeezing himself. I climb onto the counter, sitting with my feet in the sink, I watch him. His hand continues to fondle himself, I am sure he wants nothing more than to pull his cock out, and jerk it to a cum. 

He stands there for a good ten minutes trying to puzzle it out. My right hand is kneading my left breast, I roll my nipple between my index finger and thumb. Tugging, I feel the liquid flooding between my legs. I unscrew the handle from the sprayer, and turn on the water. I move the stream of water so it flows over my body, as I continue playing along my skin with my right hand. My perfectly polished red nails glint as the sunlight hits them, tracing circles playing with the water. Every inch of my skin is alive, the tension in my body building. I move the stream of water with my left hand, holding the hose at the spray connection. The moving focal point of the water and my nail tips dance. My back arches, almost begging me to hurry. I flood my belly button with the spray following it with the edge of my nail just circling the rim. 

I need to slow down, I want to relish this moment. I look at him, he continues to work. He stops and looks towards the house as if he can feel my eyes on him. The memory catches him, he runs his palm over over the now faded hand print. The bulge has returned to the front of his jeans. He moves his hand over his clearly uncomfortable erection. He adjust himself, runs his hand through his hair, and goes back to work. 

My left hand is now working my right breast, rolling the nipple pulling twisting. My right hand trails the water, my nails play in my soft neatly groomed triangle of pubic hair. My left hand is trailing my nails along my neck and over my collar bone. The young man outside is a walking hard on and I intend to harnesses that energy and direct it. 

The water flows through my hair and over my smooth labia. My left hand has started across my abdomen, the gentle swirl of my nails, pushing me. My right hand moves closer the pressure of the water driving me right to the edge. My hips rock against the stainless steel edge of the sink practically begging me to let go. I look out the window again, at first I can't see him. Oh, he has his back to me, the waist band of his jeans sags at the top of his thighs, the band of his boxers cups the lower edge of his butt. I close my eyes, I imagine that butt, his butt peppered with my red hand prints. I plunge two fingers in. Moving them furiously, I shatter. Breaking into a million pieces floating lost. I collapse onto the counter, panting. I am still recovering when Izzy arrives her arms loaded with groceries. 

"New boy toy Laurel?" She ask raising one eyebrow and eyeing the mess I have made of her immaculate kitchen. 

"Maybe, Izzy, maybe more." I wink grab my bikini and head for my room. Warren Hallay, the troubled young genius, with a troubling past. The young man who's uncontrolled anger is unraveling him. Control, it is all about control. The dominant who has the need to control everything in their world. And the submissive who needs only to control everything within them self, abandoning all control of the world beyond. Warren Hallay needs to learn to control what is within, I will teach him.

My rooms my glorious rooms. Even after twelve years it still seems a dream. There are definitely advantages to having money. I met Robert Forested, Robb, heir to the Forested Lumber dynasty, at Harvard. He was there both on merit and on money. I was there strictly on merit. 

I was born near the D. My parents were from the suburbs. We were the working class poor. I was smart, always, I was double promoted twice. I was nine years old and about to start eighth grade. Then my life started to change. A school counselor suggested a therapist to help me adjust. Still, consider a rich man's folly, there were few choices for therapists My parents took me to a highly recommend shrink, and they joined the parents group. Thank God for automobile industry insurance. The shrink was in an upscale neighborhood, my parents made influential friends. 

I was soon going to a prestigious private school, on a full scholarship. That life required disciple and control. I carried a full load of AP classes, got straight A's, did debate, belonged to the garden club, played a sport, every season, did ten hours a week at the boys and girls club, and drank a fifth of rum a day. I was there and I didn't belong really. I was too young and too poor. I had to prove I deserved the opportunity I was being afforded. Fundraiser, yes sir, I'd love to work as a waiter. Oh, you need someone to talk about the difference a scholarship makes, yes sir. I did it, everything that was asked. 

My academic record and my seven hundred and twenty SAT score, got me into Harvard on a full ride. That and the recommendation letters from every Harvard alumni with a child at the school. One hundred and thirty in all.

Harvard broke me. I didn't fit. I was drinking too much, by the time I reached grad school I was missing deadlines. Then I met Robb at a frat party. I don't know exactly what happened, but I woke tied to his bed. Robb took control of my life from that moment on. And he taught me how to control all that is within me. He fell in love with me, or at least he thought he did. I fell in love with the life style I had always envied. We were married six months later. That was fifteen years ago, I still love my life style. I have never loved Robb. 

I am in my shower when Izzy interrupts my thoughts. " Laurel, it is 3:30 the young man's day is over at 4:00. The landscape architect you arraigned to speak will be here at 5:00 And the garden club will be here at 6:00. We will serve dinner in the gazebo at 6:45." She starts to leave then turns back. "They delivered a rack of dress for you to choose from, we'll go over your itinerary in the morning. I'll have it moved to your closet." This time she does leave, I pull on a flimsy white tee, my nipples clearly visible, and the smallest pair of shorts I own, nothing else, time to torture a young man. 

I scamper down to the kitchen. He is still there still working, I smile. I head out through the mud room. His eyes widen as I walk towards him. I keep control of my smirk. The bulge is back and I can see the curiosity in his eyes. Let's see how curious this kitten really is. "It's almost 4:00. We're setting up for a garden event, so you can go. See you back here tomorrow?" I turn and leave before he can answer. 

I really do love my home. And when I joke that wife is a job description, it's not really a joke. I manage our household, the corporate residences and our social life. We have almost five acres here and attend or host at least seventy social events a year. Our property all of it is designed and managed by me. You see the house and garden are the loves of my life. I went to Harvard to become an architect. I have my masters in landscape design. I am my only client. I really make dreams come true for a living, mine. But do you know how boring life can be when you are thirty four and have achieved all of your dreams. So I play. Will Warren be my next play thing?

I wake and stretch, it is just before dawn. I pull on my sweats and running shoes. I have a route through the rolling hills of our gardens. It's a little over ten miles. It clears my head, it lightens my mood. That and the amazing food that Izzy feeds me. It keeps me off medication. Robb will be in and out of town for the next month they are working on a land deal. Till it's finished he'll spend his nights in the penthouse of his offices. 

Izzy and I meet for tea in the gazebo and watch the sunrise. We have started our days like this together for the last ten years. Hiring Izzy was the best thing I ever did. We will go over my schedule, the meals for the day, any business that needs to be accomplished. I need her, she is a stabilizing force. It's a Tuesday there is little on the agenda, my training session, then I have a Mani/Pedi, I need to pick out dresses for five events in the next six weeks. And decide on which of several invitations to accept for the fourth of July weekend. And finally, dinner, with Robb and the board of directors over a land lease. Good, that leaves my schedule free from about ten until five. I smirk thinking about playing with Warren. How far can I push him?

I feel amazing, then again I always feel amazing after a lifting session. My trainer teases me about being a beast machine. I like to lift and I lift heavy. But Izzy keeps enough calories in my diet so I am a little soft. At five feet eleven and one hundred fifty pounds I am not model thin, but my body fat is low, only eighteen percent. Just enough to have curves. I am a form junky, if I can't do it right I have reached failure. If I can't lift it correctly eight time for three sets it is too heavy. If I can do three sets of fifteen correctly the weight is to light. Simple. I like simple. I like rules and order. I like black and white, variations are dangerous.

I look in the mirror. I look perfect. Simple green t-shirt dress and black strappy wedges. Nothing else. Subtle make up except for the red gloss lips. My nails once again perfect red ovals. When I enter the garden I see him. He is working on the last of the rubble. His shirt is off, he is glistening in the early light of the day. He looks up, he smiles, he is glad I am here.

In my heels I am almost six foot four, I tower over him. As I approach his eyes focus on the ground and a faint color crosses his cheeks.

"Did you like what happened yesterday?" His feet fidget, his blush is deeper but he doesn't answer. 

"Warren, look at me," he lifts his eyes and meets my gaze. I repeat my question. "Did you like what happened yesterday?" My voice is much sterner. 

He doesn't drop his eyes but he still doesn't answer. I slap him, it raises a red hand print on his cheek. He hasn't moved, he hasn't fled yet. "You will answer me when I ask you a question. Do you understand?" 

Still no answer. I slap him again. "Do you understand?" He answers through clenched teeth "Yes" 

"Now my first question again. Did you like what happened yesterday?" His teeth still clenched he manages a "yes" I grab his chin and kiss him. His jaw is toght his mouth closed. I can feel his expectation, he knows. He fights with himself as I tease his lips nibbling, sucking, pulling at them. As soon as he surrenders and kisses me back. I slap him. He is hard as a rock, his erection pushed up against my thigh. 

"If you want me to fix that take off your boots and follow me, barefoot. Do you understand?" He is just starting at me, shocked. I slap him, grab his chin look him straight in the eyes "Do you understand?" His voice almost fails as he stammers "yes" 

I turn and head down the path towards the gazebo. It is not long before I hear the soft tread of bare feet behind me. He slows as he nears me. I can feel the nervousness radiating off of him. I reach the gazebo, and stop near the center. When I turn around he has entered the gazebo his eyes are once again cast down on his feet. He is a natural at this. He stops in front of me without lifting his eyes. I wait a moment. 

"Warren, look at me." He lifts his eyes to meet mine. " Do you want me to tell you what I am going to do to you? Or would you rather just follow directions?" He doesn't answer right away but I can see he is trying to decide. Finally, he answers "I'll follow directions." 

"Good, remove the rest of your clothing." I smile, step back, lean against a support post and watch. He seems shy, almost timid. Not at all what I expected. He unbuttons his fly, slowly, dropping his pants. He starts to turn away. "Warren, I want to look at you." He turns back and slides his boxer briefs over his hips freeing his erection. His cock is beautiful, it arcs out slightly from his body, it is pink at the base, the head is deep dusky rose, there is a small white pearl leaking from the tip. I want to taste him but restraint is in order and I have learned plenty of self control.

"Warren, I want you to kneel on that black line." He lowers himself to the floor, his hand rest naturally on his knees, his eyes are cast down. Perfect. I untie the rope from the pole I am leaning against. I lower the bar to just above his head. 

"Warren, grab the bar above your head." He looks up, reaches up and grabs the bar. I pull the rope raising the bar. It pulls him up, he moves gracefully to his feet, stretching his body out. He is balancing on the balls of his feet. I stop just before he would be truly uncomfortable.

"Warren, we are going to practice self control. You are going to hang on to that bar. I am going to perform oral sex on you. You are not to cum until I tell you to. If you cannot control yourself I will punish you. And then we will start over. Do you understand?" This time he answers quickly "Yes"

I walk slowly towards him. I pull up the hem of my skirt as I move forward. His erection is flexing, bobbing, this is going to be easy. I slowly reveal my entire body. His breath is slightly ragged. I kneel in front of him. I run the tip of my tongue along the length of his shaft, swirl it around the head capturing the pearly white liquid leaking from the tip. I hear his swift intake of breath, I look up never releasing him. His eyes are round, his face registers shock.

"Warren, has anyone ever done this to you before?" He buries his head in his arm but he doesn't release the bar. I can barely hear his answer "no" I am so thankful for Robb's training, my face does not betray me. It is my turn to be shocked. "Okay, you are really not prepared for what I am asking of you. Relax, just let me do this. Do not try to control anything. I will not punish you after this. I promise. This is just for you. Watch what I am doing to you. Enjoy the view." 

I resume what I started. I am going to make this time fun. I cup his balls cradling them in my hand, gently tracing over the soft skin with a single red nail. Cradling him, I start with my tongue at the base again. I repeat the exact same, motion. I run the tip of my tongue up these entire length of his shaft circling the head and capturing the tip, instead of holding him there, I suck him in, plunging his entire length into me. I slowly pull back releasing him. His face is once again buried in his arm. He is moaning. I lavish the same torturous delight twice more. Then I fall in to a steady rhythm, sucking him in deeply, swirling my tongue as I pull back. His hips are jerking he is losing control. I let his motions set the pace, finally he is simply fucking my mouth. The whole thing takes less then two minutes. I feel him pass the point of no return, I capture just the head against my tongue swallowing, milking it. As it slows I draw more and more of him in. He is shuttering and jerking. I have shattered him, driven him beyond all control. I let his soft cock slide from between my lips.


The Garden Club Ch. 02



I have watched Warren discreetly for the last three days. He has shown up and worked. Done exactly as expected. Every time the mud room door has opened his gaze has jumped. Looking, expectantly hoping it is me. The next time he sees me will be very public. His parents have graciously offered to host the Boys and Girls club father's day fundraiser at their home. Robb and I will attend. Men have it so lucky, shower, shave, throw on a Tux and they're ready. 

It is almost noon, Izzy breaks my thoughts. "Laurel, Josh brought your car around. Your due at the salon in twenty minutes." This day is full. I will be prepared at the salon, waxed and tweezers within an inch of my life. My hair will lay smooth to my headband then cascade down my back and loosely over my shoulders in soft curls. My makeup will be intense, my eyes practically glowing. I skip on my way out. I do love the details of my life.

I am running exactly on schedule. I sit on the balcony of my closet. Izzy has set out a lite meal, Cobb salad, and a tall glass of iced tea. My stylist Janie will be here in less than an hour. I will meet Robb at the penthouse at 6:15. The event begins at 8:00.

We're done. I stand at the mirror making one last check. The dress is one I chose earlier this week. The fabric is a soft floral print. It's a halter style, the neck plunges deep stopping just short of exposing my belly button, the back drapes low, exposing the small of my back. The skirt is flared floating above mid thigh. 

My shoes are flat white gladiator sandals, they weave up my entire calf, ending in a bow just below my knee. A series of platinum chains hang in the plunge drawing attention. Robb hates these events, I know the cost of his attendance. I am dressed for Robb. He will be pleased. 

I ride in the back, Josh is driving and the divider is up. I am alone with my thoughts. I know this routine. I go over it in my mind. My body knows what is expected of it. My belly is growing tight, I am hot and wet. Robb will be pleased. Josh pulls into the underground garage. He opens my door. It is 6:10. "Josh we will be ready to leave at 7:15. Please make sure the bar is stocked. You know Robb will want a drink."

I enter the code in the elevator panel. The door opens into the penthouse. I tread quietly to Robb's office. He shouldn't be here yet but I am still careful. I slide open the door. The room is empty. I light the candle, pour the brandy and set it in the warming stand. This is Robb's scene, I know my role and I play it well. My labia are already slick with my juices. I kneel next to his chair. My knees spread, my hands resting in the small of my back, my eyes on the floor.

I wait, it is eight minutes exactly. Robb enters the room. He sits in his chair, and props his feet on the foot stool. I move around to the end of the stool. I untie first his right shoe, place one hand on the heel, the other on the tongue and gently remove it. I tuck it neatly under the edge of the side table. I repeat the action with his left shoe. I take off both of his socks. I fold them together and tuck them in his right shoe. I return to the end of the foot stool and massage his feet. He watches me slowly sipping his brandy. He finishes, I know what is next.

Robb stands beside the foot stool. I kneel up in front of him, I undo his brown belt, slowly I pull it out. I lay out carefully over the foot stool. Then I undo his pants, unzipping them slowly, I allow them to slide down his legs. I fold them carefully, laying them on the seat of the chair. I kneel again removing his boxers with the same care. He is semi hard in anticipation. I stroke him, raking my nails along his shaft. He hardens, I capture him with my mouth working him hard. He taps my shoulder. 

I stand, carefully untie the perfect Windsor knot and lay his tie next to his belt on the foot stool. I unbutton his shirt letting my nails play in the opening. I slide it off his shoulders. I fold it and place it in the pile. Robb simply points to his desk. It is mahogany, long and wide. Built in to one end is a magazine rack, innocent enough, but I know better.

I lay over the end of his desk stretching my arms so my hands are gripping the far edge. Robb, grabs both of my wrists pulling hard he uses his tie to secure them to the rack. I am on my tip toes, my pubic bone rests against the edge of the desk. Robb, pulls my skirt up over my ass. He has decided not to undress me. I am exposed, covered only by a thin scrap of silk. He pulls down my thong over my thighs to the point that it digs in, then he kicks my feet apart. He runs his hand roughly over my ass, then plunges a finger into me. I shudder, flexing around him. He removes it just as quickly. I feel empty. I hear him sucking his finger. 

He snaps it once, it is a distinctive sound. I pull on my restraints, I shudder, I bite my lip. The next crack is the sound of his belt landing across my ass. It will have raised a wide red welt, there will be a fine purple line. I am on fire, the heat spreads. I am still wetter, I just want him to touch me. To relieve my ache. I don't dare beg. I flex my cheeks trying to relieve the fire. When the next blow lands, crashing pain through me, it overlaps the first. The red swatch on my ass will be wider, and I will have a second purple stripe. 

He lands four more before I cry out. He stops the belt, raining down twenty hard blows with his hand. Sobs are racking my body. But not a tear has fallen. He walks around the desk. He extends his hand. It is the one he just reddened me with. I kiss the palm, languishing my tongue over it, sucking his fingers. 

He returns too the other end of the desk. He massages my inflamed cheeks. It is torturous, I wiggle, just a little, he swiftly brings his hand down again, raining another ten quick blows. Now I am begging, pleading for him to relieve the ache. 

He enters me, he is brutal, this is not for me, it is for him. He wraps his hand in my hair pulling my head back, stretching me even more. He fucks me hard and fast. He doesn't allow me to cum. He pulls out, gently slaps my ass, and pulls up my thong. He unties my wrists and releases me. He shaves and cleans up in the bathroom.

He intends for me to suffer. Sitting will be painful, I am wet, needy and on edge. He will purposely squeeze my ass as we dance. He will make me wait till we get home for relief. I pull myself together. When he comes out I dress him carefully. I tie his bow tie, put in his cuff links, and hold his jacket for him. 

At 7:15 exactly, we exit the elevator and enter the car. We are on our way to the Hallay estate.

Maria and Charles are perfect hosts. Charity events are a specialty. Maria has an amazing team. They host at least five charity events a year. Each theme so perfect. We have donated time at two of our properties for the auction tonight. And I have personally put up fifty hours of landscape design. I may not work for a firm but my gardens are famous.

We are seated with four other couples. Two of them are board members of Forested Lumber and their spouses. One is the head of the zoological society and his wife. Paul Roberts and his wife round out the table. Paul and Donna run a member's only dungeon.

Sitting is excruciating. Each movement sends both a new round of pain and spreads the fire in my abdomen. I can't wait for dinner to be over. Actually I can't wait for this night to be over. I want to be back at the penthouse, I want to earn my relief. Donna smiles at me often with knowing sympathy.

Finally the plates are cleared. Charles takes the microphone and thanks us all for attending. At $100,000 a plate he should say thank you. He introduces a young man to speak about the difference the boys and girls clubs make. It takes me back, I reach over, take Robb's hand and squeeze it. He knows my past, he knows this reminds me of where I come from. Brings back the feelings of not belonging. He moves his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. It is a brief tender moment between us.

Charles and Maria start the dancing, they look so in love. Robb pulls me from my chair and into his arms. He loves holding me, moving against my body. He loves that his wife takes exquisite care of herself. He loves showing me off. But does he love me, no I don't think so. Maybe the illusion of me. I love my life, and am more than willing to provide the illusion of a loving wife. But, I don't love Robb, never have. Belong to him, desire him, live for him, yes, love him no.

For brothers, Warren and Mason couldn't be more different. I met Marie twelve years ago while her and Charles were fighting for custody of Warren. He was the product of an affair. His mother moved and didn't even tell Charles she was pregnant. They only found out when Warren fell into the foster care system. It took them almost a year to get him out. He was six. Saving Warren had saved their marriage.a

We have danced three dances when his phone rings. He steps out of the tent to take the call. I head over to the bar, I have a feeling it's not good news. When Robb finds me he kisses my forehead, and apologizes. He is off to solve some issue with the project in South America. Some thing about protesters. He'll be home next week.

I down my rum and coke and get another. Instead of finishing with my husband. I will be alone. Not that I can't take care of myself. It's just that I've been primed for something else. I watch the room. I can't say my goodbyes before the auction. Warren is drinking at the other end of the bar. I have caught him watching me several times. Let's see if I can make him crazy and solve my problem.

Mason Hallay has a sweet thing in his arms. She is crushed against him, being moved deftly across the dance floor. He has filled out nicely, grown into a towering man. He built the pergola over the path to my pond, the summer he was eighteen. His love of construction evident even then. Under my supervision he learned a lot. He has his own construction company now. At twenty four he is already a millionaire in his own right. The girl is luckier than she knows. I watch them for a few minutes. 

I walk over tap Mason's shoulder."Mind if I cut in?" 

The young woman relinquishes Mason to me, mouthing later. He pulls me into his arms. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. Just as I suspected, he is already fully aroused. "Evening Laurel, Robb leave you to your own devices already?" His voice is snarky, he is inviting me to play. 

I had already planned to. I push up on my toes, rub over his body, to whisper in his ear. It looks innocent enough, it is not. "Boathouse after the auction." He pulls me closer pushing his erection into my soft belly. I know he will be there, waiting. I dance with several more of the young men who have worked in my gardens. I feel Warren watching. If he wants to dance he'll have to ask. I know he won't. 

The lights are already on in the Boathouse when I arrive. I know where I will find him. I climb the stairs to the loft. He kneels to the right of the stairs, naked, his hands rest on his thighs, his eyes fixed on the floor. He is again fully erect.

"On your back on the floor." I bark. He obeys. The confusion clear on his face. I am sure he expected me to want to punish him. I don't bother to undress, no sub has ever seen marks on my body, its not time to change that. I straddle him backwards, I don't want to see his face, I just want to fuck him. Pulling my thong aside I bury him deep with one stroke. I impale myself on him, riding him with out restraint. It doesn't take long, he doesn't get to cum before I collapse in a shuttering heap across his legs. He is still hard inside of me. I feel him move, then his hand pushes up my skirt. I hear his sharp intake of breath. 

"You fucking bitch." His hand comes down hard on my ass. I cry out, bite my lip, and try to gain my control. 

"You let someone do this, then you come to me. Use me as a toy for relief. How dare you!" He rolls me off him with his legs. 

Before I can move, he is on me. Hauling me up, dragging me to the couch. He pulls me down over his legs. His hand comes down hard before I can prepare. I have never been submissive with anyone but Robb. All my training kicks in. I bite my lip. I hold perfectly still. His hand come down, again and again. My tears are streaming, then he is kneading my butt, squeezing, pinching. I cry out. 

He pushes me to the floor, "Get your ass in the air!" he commands. I move scurrying into position. He places one hand on my hip, the other in the small of my back, arching me even further. Then he is thrusting into me, he is fucking me hard. Fucking me for himself, I am climbing, the heat claiming me. I am going to come apart for him. I am going to shatter. 

"That's it ride me bitch. Roll those hips, oh ya, that's it." His hand slams into me again. I explode, throbbing, pulsing over him, coating him. He explodes and collapses on top of me. My breathing is still ragged when he pulls out, rolls off of me, grabs his clothes and leaves. I lay on the floor for a long time. Finally, I pull myself together. 

I call Josh to bring the car around, it will be a long ride home. When Maria calls tomorrow, I'll blame a headache for slipping out quietly. Next I call Izzy and ask her to fill my bath. Izzy knows the rigors of my life. She knows the toll an evening out with Robb takes on my body. She will care for me tonight. Should I tell Izzy what happened with Mason?

Izzy is going over my day. I am zoning it is a Monday. Then one of the messages I need to return grabs my attention. "Izzy, what was that one?"

"Mr. Mason Hallay wants to set up a meeting. He bought your services at the auction. He wants to go over the project." Her voice is calm. I am glad I didn't tell her about the Boathouse. I blush remembering. Then it strikes me, he bought the time before the Boathouse. I was drinking through the auction, I wasn't paying attention. SHIT!

"Izzy, call his offices set up a lunch meeting later this week. Then call Janie, have her send over a few summer suits for me to choose from. I can handle the rest of the calls." Even to me I should tense and distracted. 

I finish the dozen or so calls, return my email, and order flowers sent to my mother. It's just before noon. Izzy will have lunch set up on my closet balcony. My closet, is bigger than the bedroom I grew up in. Perfectly arranged. Janie keeps it well stocked. Most of my clothes are worn once, that's it once. Oh, I have clothes that I wear here at the house. But if I leave the grounds in it, I don't wear it again. It's one of Robb's rules. He doesn't want me photographed in the same thing twice. 

Robb's rules, God if he found out Mason spanked me. He would be so mad. He tolerates the boy toys, they are my subs. But, playing with another Dom. And it wouldn't matter that I didn't plan it that way or actually consent. I shudder.

I grab a bikini, my shades, a hat and a book. I need to bake in the sun. Push all of the aches out of the me. Let go of the Boathouse. Robb doesn't need to know. I change and head for the pool. I am out the mud room door and half way to the garden before I remember he is there. He has his back to me. He is bent over fitting two teak wood timbers together. I stop watch him for a moment, then call his name. He stands up carefully, turning slowly to look at me. 

"Damn it Warren!" He has a black eye, his cheek is split, his lip fat and he has bruises on his ribs. "Go home your done today. Be here at 7:00 am in the gazebo. We need to talk. Barefoot! Do you understand me?" A blush passes over him when I mention the gazebo. 

He is staring at his feet fidgeting, but he manages a "Yes." I stomp off to the pool, leaving him staring after me.

I wake in a much better mood. I like Tuesday, lifting day. I tell Izzy to clear my day after 7:00. She nods her head, winks, and smiles. She saw Warren yesterday, she knows I won't allow him to fight. She knows he is in for a hard day. 

I see him walk down the path. I check my watch. It is 6:58. He's on time. He stops outside the gazebo, takes off his shoes and socks and enters. Black sports Bra, booty shorts and black strappy stilettos is the outfit of the day. My hair is braided and wound tightly in a bun on my head. Stereo-typical maybe, effective yes. 

I follow him in. He is just standing there arms crossed. Relaxed, almost cocky, but his eyes betray him. He's nervous, he knows I am angry. "Strip and kneel." He is slower this time, he folds each piece stacking them neatly. When he's kneeling, I step in front of him, standing so all he can see is my feet, bound by my strappy shoes.

"Warren, do you like what I do to you?" He starts to lift his head. I place my hand firmly holding his head down. "No, you don't get to look at me. Answer me."

He takes a deep breath, his teeth are clenched, "yes."

"Do you want me to keep doing it?" I add no inflection. It is a simple question. His answer will determine whether he dresses and leaves. Or if his life changes today.

It is barely audible, "Yes."

"Then, Warren, there are rules. First, you will answer me clearly. No more mumbling or whispering. Second, when you answer me you will use my name. I am not a fan of being called mistress, but you will address me with respect. Third, I will ask you a lot of questions. I will know everything about you. It is not a choice, you will answer. Do you understand?"

"Yes." his voice clear this time. I tap my toe impatiently. "Yes Laurel." I run my fingers through his hair. 

"Warren, look at me." He raises his eyes to meet mine "We have a lot to discuss, there is a blanket and a basket down by the pond. That's where we are going to talk. But before then. I want to spank you. Not to punish you, but simply to do so. I want you edgy, horny with your ass on fire. But this time it is up to you. I won't punish you later for saying no. May I spank You?"

His eyes drop, his hands fidget "Yes." it is both too soft and incorrectly phrased. I slap his face hard. "Yes Laurel." loud and clear. 

"Kneel up. Put one hand on the back of your neck. Your going to jerk yourself with the other this time. I want to see how you handle your own cock." His face has paled, he is timid at first. 

"Do you want this to turn into a punishment? Do as you were told." Good, he is following directions.

"Now remember the point is to keep yourself hard, do not lose you erection, but do not cum." I kneel beside him. I place my left hand on his hip to stabilize him. I rest the palm of my right on his ass. 

"Warren, the point of this spanking is color. So I am going to hit you a lot. But I won't be using as much force." He is biting his lower lip. That habit is going to get him in trouble, just not right now. 

I bring my palm down twenty quick times, it has raised a fair amount of color. His breathing is heavy, raspy, he is still handling his cock. I am running my nails over his bright pink ass. I watch him. He is a player, he enjoys himself, he stops fondles his balls, pinches the head. Jerks it some more. I bring my hand down twenty more times, this time he moans. When I finish I use my nails to rake an x on each cheek. I move so I am in front of him. 

"Stop, put your other hand behind your neck." He moves immediately. I grab his chin and kiss him. He tries not to surrender. Soon he is kissing me back, I know he expects met to slap him. I don't. "You did well. Follow me." He starts to grab his clothes. I say one word "No!" He follows me treading quietly naked through the garden.

The blanket is spread by the pond. I lay on my side. Pat the ground on the opposite side of the blanket. "Kneel here." Warren obeys without hesitation. "Warren, this is a conversation. We are not playing now although I will continue to give you directions, you may speak freely. I expect honest answers even if you don't think it is what I want to hear. Do you understand?"




The Garden Club Ch. 03



I wake early, stretching, I smile. It's just after 4:00 am. Will he arrive on time? I am sure he will be here. He can't stay away. I am anxious for him to be here, this is new. With Robb I am anticipatory, scared, and nervous; excited, angry and aggressive with the subs. But, this is different, I can't wait to see him, I moisten at the thought of him, not what I am going to do to him, simply him. For the first time I wonder if this is how Robb felt when he met me.

I know him, I know him well. I have lived in his skin. I know that dark place he is in. I hold it deep within, controlled, encased, chained by complete discipline and self control. Not fitting, not belonging, surrounded by beautiful perfect people, with beautiful perfect lives, scarred and ugly, carrying rage so close to the surface, it crawls just under your skin.

I pull on my sweats, sports bra and Nikes. I am waiting in the garden at exactly 5:00 am. Warren has not arrived. I am actually happy, I get to punish him. He is going to learn. He comes sauntering up the path, it is 5:07. "Warren,your late!" I sound angry, hell I am angry. Time is simple, your on time or your not. There is no grey area. 

"Just a few minutes no biggie." His reply is snarky. 

I slap him. "Late, is late. You will be punished after breakfast for both your tardiness and insolence. Can you run ten miles?"

His eyes are cast down and again his feet fidget. "Yes Laurel." well that's better he has got the hang of answering me. 

"Take off your shirt, shoes and socks. Warren, unless your working in the garden I expect your feet and chest to be bare." He removes the items I requested without hesitation. "Warren, this is a run. I run in silence. I expect you to do the same. Match my pace and stay beside me." 

I start at an easy jog to warm up. Then I run hard. I push my own endurance. He is breathing hard. As we cross the eight mile mark I let up. He won't make it if I don't. I have never shared my run. Whatever possessed me yesterday, I still don't understand. Normally, I simply would have ordered exercise and assigned a trainer. I ordered him to run with me and not just today but every week day.

Our run ends at the kitchen garden. "Warren, Josh and Gideon are in the kitchen. Izzy has breakfast laid out. Go in and eat. I will be there in an hour. Wait for me."

I head to the gazebo at a jog. Izzy is walking down the opposite path carrying our breakfast. I open the covered bowl, I was right my favorite. Steel cut oats and mincemeat compote. Izzy goes over my correspondence, my calls and finally my appointments. Crap I have a 1:00 lunch with Mason Hallay. Well, Que sera sera. There is nothing that can't wait till after lunch. Perfect. Just perfect, punish Warren, then face his older brother Mason. I am one fucked up chick, as Izzy would say. But then she would laugh and hug me.

Warren is perched on one of the stool around the breakfast bar. He is talking sports with Josh and Gideon. When I clear my throat, all three mens heads snap to look at me. "Warren, follow me." I lead him up the stairs to my suite. My seven rooms make up half of the third floor. Two bedrooms, two baths, my closet, den, and playroom.

I lead him first into my subs bedroom. It is small, white, almost sterile. There is a bed, a desk and chair, a wardrobe and a dresser. "When your here at the house. This is your room. There is a computer which is for your use." 

The bathroom is attached. He spends a great deal of time just staring at all the different hoses, fountains and spigots. This room is completely marble, everything that can be damaged by water is behind a sealed door.

The tub is sunken into the floor. The shower is attached three steps up. It is an open platform with several benches. "Warren, this room is part of our play area. I don't want to scare you. The only thing you need to know for now is that I like water. I like playing with it."

It's time, time for him to see what he has really gotten himself into. He follows me back out into the hall. I stop in front of my play room door. "Warren, when we go in to this room you are probably going to be shocked. I am going to punish you for this mornings errors. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Laurel." he takes a deep breath. 

I punch in the keycode and open the door. I hear his sharp intake of breath. Most doms prefer goth and mid evil themes, it is just not me. The wood in this room is light maple, the leather navy blue, and the rest is shades of pink. 

The walls are decorated with the implements of the trade. The paddles hang from pink and navy ribbons. The canes lay across porcelain pegs, each with a hand painted rose. A trellis decorates one of the walls, from it hangs all methods of restraint. 

There are display cases on the opposed wall, the glass shelves display an array of toys. It's contents are dark, forbidden, taboo. 

I point at the tall, wide bench "Warren, go lean over that bench. I am going to gather the supplies we need." He is moving to the bench, without hesitation, I smile. "I am going to punish you. This is going to be exceedingly painful. I expect you to take your punishment. You have broken a rule and been disrespectful. You know the safe words. This is your first real punishment, I will be disappointed if you choose to use them."

He is leaning over the bench, resting his upper body on his elbows. I walk in front of him. First I hold up a two inch wide black leather strap. "Warren, look at me." His eyes meet mine. His face is turbulent. "Warren, you were late, seven minutes late to be exact. I am going to strike you with this belt. Once for each minute you were late." Then I hold up a large oval flat leather paddle. "You were insolent and snarky when corrected. I am going to strike you ten times with this paddle for that." Last I hold up a pair of leather cuffs. There is no explanation needed. 

I secure first one wrist then the other. I pull his arms taunt to the legs of the bench securing them spread. It pulls him up onto his tip toes. He cannot lift his chest off the bench, his legs although extended are not restrained. I want him to get used to restraint. He is letting his head hang.

"Warren, I told you to look at me." His eyes come back up too meet mine. "When I finish, I am going to release your wrists. I am not going to speak to you or comfort you. I am going to leave and lock you in this room. I will be back at exactly 12:00. During that time. I expect you to look at every thing in this room. It was purchased specifically for you. Any item you object to is to be placed in the box next to the door. When I return I expect to find you kneeling next to the box completely naked. Do you understand?"

He is pulling at his restraint. "Yes ma'am" I slap his face. "Ma'am is not any more acceptable, than mistress is. Do you understand?"

"Yes Laurel."

I jerk his sweats down to his knees. His briefs are next. I pull them down, so his entire package is exposed. The band running right under his balls and framing the lower edge of his cheeks. I could have been gentle, but there is a point to punishment. It is not the simple pain that changes behavior. It is the whole process. The humiliation, the lack of control, the vulnerability. I stand there ready. I am watching him. I am letting his state settle in. I see the faint color blush over him. He flexes his butt, and pushes up on the balls of his feet. 

I swing, it is hard, the sound reverberates against the walls as the belt meets his rising ass. I hear the air rush from his body. Before he can recover I bring the second blow crashing down. A sharp cry escapes. The third comes up catching right above the waist band of his briefs. Again he cries out. He can't keep still and I won't make him. He will learn in time. His ass, sways just as I bring the fourth strike down, it cuts a diagonal across the other red welts. He is gasping for air. Tears are streaming down his face. The last three swings are fast. His mouth is open in a scream but no sound is coming out. I lay the used belt across his shoulders. 

I pick up the paddle, I place my hand in the small of his back. I wait, I let him catch his breath, now he is sobbing audibly. This will be easier for him with me holding him still. He has done very well, I am pleased. But he will know I mean what I say, and every error earns its own punishment. Each time this paddle lands it will intensify the heat, and make each little purple line left by the edge of the belt sing. I bring the ten blows down in less than thirty seconds. Again he can't catch his breath. I drop the paddle, free his wrists, and leave, closing the door behind me. He will need this time, he needs to reconcile this within himself. He needs time to process what happened to him.

I head into my closet. I turn on the two way mirror. He is standing, the belt in his hand, he running his fingers over it. Tears still run free down his face. I turn off the mirror and grant him his privacy. Now to get ready for lunch. 

First my shower, my bathroom is exactly the same as the one off the other bedroom. I need to take care of this wet achy need. It's making me edgy. The last thing I need is to be edgy, when I see Mason. Crap, what am I going to say to him. I close my eyes, letting the memory of punishing Warren and the water take me.

I look in the mirror, thank-you Janie. I have on a perfectly fitted cream shift dress, it stops at my trade mark mid thigh. A pink cropped jacket, it shows off my long thin torso. Five inch cream stiletto pumps. My wedding pearls hang around my neck and wrists and dangle from my ears. I hit the call button on my phone, Izzy picks up on the first ring. "Izzy, please send Miss Janie a dozen roses from our green house. And have Josh pull Robb's Jag around". I can almost feel her mouth hanging open. I look at the clock it is 11:55. I flip on the mirror. Warren is kneeling, his knees spread, hands resting on his thighs, eyes gazing at the floor.

I open the door at exactly noon. Warren jumps, but recovers quickly. I open the box next to him, the only item in the box are the canes. I take a seat on the small couch, and pat the place next to me "Warren, please join me." He needs to stretch as he rises. He must have waited in position for a long time. He is moving slowly, each step clearly painful. When he sits next to me he can't keep the grimace off his face.

"Warren, did you look at everything in this room?" My voice is sterner than I intended.

"Yes Laurel." He still hasn't found a comfortable position.

"Is there anything in here you want to know more about?" I hold my tone, I can loosen up later. The balance between enforcement, punishment and experience is fluid, dynamic over time.

"No Laurel." Is voice is monotone. His fingers fidget.

"Do you know what every thing you looked at is and how it is used?"

"No Laurel." His voice is softer, embarrassed, a flush passes over his skin.

"Why don't you want to ask about those things, before you decide if they should be in this room?" The desire to understand evident in my voice.

"I don't need to know. After what I let you do to me today, I realized If you want to do it to me, I am going to let you. There is no need for me to know." He sighs deeply. I smile, he is overwhelmed with trying to control himself and the world around him. He's starting to let go.

"Then why are the canes in there?"

"I saw a documentary on Chinese prisons. The flesh was ripped open. I don't want that to happen to me. It scares me. Do you want me to put them back?" He is looking at his fingers

"No, I do not want you to put them back. They will be removed. You will be given the opportunity to remove things or bring things back again in six months. I am going out. You are to go to your room. I want you to soak in the tub that is prepared for you. Shower, then you are to lay face down on your bed naked. Pull just the white sheet up over you. 

"Izzy will tend to your butt." I see him tense and shudder "Do not argue with her. Do everything she says. She will not touch you in a sexual way, she will simply be caring for you at my direction. You may as well get used to her ministering to the after effects of life with me, right now. Then I want you to take a nap. If you wake do not leave this area. Otherwise, I will wake you when I return. Do you understand?"

"Yes Laurel." He is visibly tense. It will fade in the tub.

"Not doing exactly as you have been told will result in further punishment." I hear his sharp intake of breath. 

Robb's Jag. It is his car, he loves to take it out on the coast and run it wide open. Mason will notice. He knows, I don't drive that car. I am working my pearls between my lips, sucking them. I feel like I am wrapping Robb around me as a shield. 

I pull up in front of the taco stand. It is 12:58. Mason loves this place. I grab a table. There are only three and one has seen better days. It's just off some obscure pier, behind a bait shop. I will admit the food is amazing. It's 12:03 I am tapping the face of my watch, it is an anxious habit when any thing is behind schedule. My subs know it means they are late. I don't do late.

"I turned in my log book long ago Laurel. I may take the opportunity to play now and again. But I do not follow your rules." His voice is deep and commanding. We order food at the window and sit down. The view here is beautiful.

"So, you bought my design time? Izzy said you have a project in mind?" I am blushing. 

"Yes, actually I do. I donated my time, materials and services to a Boys and Girls club, that deserves a new facility. I want you to design the grounds. I am going to look at the property next week. I'd like you to come with me." His voice sounds all business. But my body is on high alert. Do I want to be alone with this man?

"Where is the lucky boys and girls club?" I try to sound bored. I remember last year he redid a Ronald McDonald house. It was amazing. The medical amenities, a game room, a theater, and a bowling lane, then the play ground ground wow. He even built a real tree house. If he is really doing this I want to be on board.

"A suburb of Detroit. Royal Oak I think. So are you interested?" He seems sincere. Does he know? Damnit, he wants me to go back. Go home to the boys and girls club where I volunteered. To the place where I should have been receiving services, but was giving them instead. I haven't been home since I was sixteen. I left for Harvard and I haven't gone back. Just Damnit!

"I'll have to check my schedule. But, if you could arrange the trip for mid week before the fourth, I'll be headed to Michigan anyway, were spending the fourth on Mackinac Island. I can fly a few days early and get the project started with you." I pulled it off my answer was right on.

"I should be able to do that. It's just a week later than originally planned. You sure you're good with this project. I have other projects." He smirks, his shoulders relax, his body screams cocky. Crap, he knows.

"Yes I'm sure" my voice is much steadier than I feel.

"Now, that we're done with business. Who the hell did you let put those marks on you?" His voice is stern commanding. Automatically my eyes drop. I blush. Now he hisses "If you don't want a repeat of the Boathouse right here you will answer me." He slams his hand down on the table for emphasis. 

I jump, but I answer "Robb" It's too soft, too breathy, lost.

"No wonder you brought his fucking car, did you have his permission to screw me, did you need it?" He draws his hand through his hair and over his face "Shit!" then slams it into the table again. "I will see you in Detroit." He leaves abruptly.

Home, Warren is waiting. I get in the car. I am on the coast highway when it hits me. Robb, Forested Lumber, with the size log homes Mason is building, if Robb got pissed he'd be screwed. No wonder he's so upset.

Warren isn't in his room, I check his bathroom, not there. I go to the playroom. He is kneeling on the small sofa, he has the belt in his hand, he is running his fingers over it. I lean against the door and just watch him till he looks up. I smile, "What are you thinking about Warren?" 

He blushes and looks down "you" 

"Warren, can I touch your face and the rest of your head without it bothering you?" I ask softly. I haven't moved. I want him to feel some control.

"Yes Laurel." his voice timid.

"Then, I am going to sit on the long couch, I want you to lay on your back with your head in my lap while we talk. Can you do that?" My voice is soothing almost cajoling in tone.

"Yes Laurel." the stress in his voice is evident. He is afraid. But we will get through this.

I start by just running my nails through his hair lightly over his scalp. "So, what were you thinking about when I came in? Remember, I expect honest and anything less is punishable."

His voice starts out hesitant "I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how in control you are. How out of control I am. How all I want to know is did I make you happy. How I want you to do things to me. I want you to be pleased with me." He is blushing and quiet before he finishes.

"What happens to your body when you think about what I did to you?" I know what I hope is going on.

"My cock gets hard and all I can think about is you. I want you to touch me so bad it almost drives me mad." His fingers are moving again. That is a behavior we will soon be addressing.

"Warren, you did really well today. I am pleased with the way you submitted. If you want me to take care of your cock, it will cost you. Taking punishment well doesn't earn a reward, you earned the punishment. If you want a reward you'll have to earn that too. So, it's up to you." My voice is soft pleasant matter of fact.

"How do I earn it?" He is anxious and quiet.

"I want to play with your nipples and the area around them. I'll set a timer if you can tolerate five minutes. I will suck you off. Are you interested?" He can barely tolerate me brushing against him. My fingers actively exploring will be torturous. I want to know what touch actually drives the fear.

"Yes Laurel." His voice solid and clear, his face tense.

I retrieve the timer. I start the sand flowing. Instead of sitting back down I straddle him. I capture his now fully erect penis between us. I reach up and run a nail around the edge of his areola. It rocks me across him. I play at first one and then the other nipple. He is pushing up against me. God, this is excruciating. Why the fuck does Warren Hallay have to be a virgin. I don't even do it purposely, but at just over four minutes the edge of one my nails scratches. He screams, it is raw, torn from his body, wretched from his soul. None of his cries earlier were as pained. 

Then he gasps "red"

"Dress and go home. Do not masturbate. You will get your log tomorrow. I will see you at five." I sound angry. It's not the tone I meant to use. I am so hot and wet I want to throw him down, and fuck him. Ride him until he can't move, grinding his red raw ass into the floor. It's not time. He needs to learn control. So, I need to exhibit some myself. I head for the kitchen I need to talk to Izzy.

Izzy is just finishing cooking dinner, when I walk in. I know I look disheveled, a rarity when Robb's not home. I feel out of control, spinning. I want Robb; I need Robb. He's been so preoccupied. There is a lot going on and I know he has a new female sub he's playing with. 

He won't tell me, he knows I get jealous. I know it seems odd, I have subs, and I am jealous of his. But, I belong to Robb, I hate his girl toys. If it were a male he would have told me. I would be fine. It's why I know he would be furious if he knew what Mason did to me. I belong to Robb. I am moody and petulant. 

Josh and Gideon come in through the mud room they are having a loud discussion. I laugh, they are like having brothers. Josh runs my security detail and manages the cars. Of the two I would say managing my security is the tougher job. Gideon is head of grounds and maintenance. I manage all the design and construction. He keeps my vision neatly in focus. Izzy, technically she is my assistant. The reality is, she is my lifeline, and I am hers. 




The Garden Club Ch. 04



I wake up, I stretch, I see it laying on my night stand. I run my hand over its rough hide. Warren's log, and I am giving it to him today. I dress quickly. I hope Izzy is in the kitchen. I have never been this excited about a log.

Most of the logs are standard issue except for the name and the actual design. Most of my young men have never made it inside the house. Not because they wouldn't have, but it is a very personal space. And most are just a passing fancy. There is little I can do in there that I can't do outside if I plan ahead.

Shit, Izzy isn't here yet. I leave a note on top of the log.

Izzy please put enough food for Warren and I on my plate. Put this on his. Use dish covers. We will have our meeting at lunch. Kisses

I exit the mud room door it is 4:59 am Warren is jogging up the path to the garden. I start to jog, he sprints to catch me, then he falls into step beside me. I smile and think "gotcha." He stays with me stride for stride the entire run. He smiles when he sees the set table as we enter the gazebo. Both of us walk till our breathing slows. 

I sit down, "Warren please sit down too." He reaches to uncover his plate, I slap his hand. "You do not eat unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"

His head is down. "Yes Laurel." it is weak and shaky, scared. 

"Warren look at me." He raises his eyes "I will control when and what you eat. But, I will never allow you to go hungry. Not even as punishment." He visibly relaxes."Now, before we eat I want you to tell me what you have already done to earn punishment today?" 

His eyes are round, he hasn't realized yet what's wrong. And he knows I am going to punish him for whatever it is. He sits there dumbfounded. 

I go over to the game cabinet and take out a one minute timer. I turn it over. "If you can't figure it out, before the sand runs out it will be a second error." I cross my arms and wait. 

He keeps looking from me to him then around the gazebo. His eyes lock on his fingers just before the sand runs out. "Warren, remove your shirt, shoes and socks." His head comes up in shock, then realization. He immediately removes the offending items. And sits back down.

"I will punish you after we finish here. You may take the cover off your plate." There is little tone in my voice beyond cold statement of fact.

He picks up his book, he runs his hand over the cover. Then he takes a single finger and traces his name embossed in pewter on the front. There is a reverence when he speaks "Did you make this?" 

I let the smile cross my lips. "Yes, I made it specifically for you. It is very different from any other log, I have ever made. The hide is elephant, the plates that act as the spine come from the first journal I ever made for myself. Do you like it?"

"Yes Laurel, I like it very much. Thank-you." I uncover my plate. I hand him one of the bowls of Greek yogurt, berries and granola.

"Warren, this is your log book. You are to have it with you at all times. When you want to stop our relationship simply return your log to me. I will remove the Log pages and return it filled with empty pages. See the three little screws. They hold this book together, it also allows us to edit it. Now, I am going to feed you the rest of the food on this plate. You are going to hold the book and we are going to go through it. Are you ready for this?"

"Yes Laurel." He takes a deep breath and sighs .

When he opens the page he reads the words:

Warren HALLAY

MOST CHERISHED POSSESSION OF

Laurel Forested

He looks up at me, his eyes full of wonder and fear, "Is it true?"

"Warren, it is absolutely true. I told you I would never lie to you. There is something else about that inscription you should know. It is uniquely yours. Every other log has said property of Laurel Forested. You do something to me Warren that I can't explain." My breathing and voice are both airy and light.

He turns the page. The page is a section divider it is navy blue leather. Written in silver calligraphy is the word. 

OBEDIENCE

"Warren this is the section of the book that is likely to change the most. I will add rules as you need them. These are not guidelines, these are hard rules. You will be punished for violations. I want you to read it aloud. I will feed you between each instruction" I want him to think about each one. He turns the page and begins to read.

Code of Conduct:

Warren Hallay (WH) will obey any instructions given by Laurel Forested (LF) immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. WH will agree to any sexual activity deemed for and pleasurable by LF. He will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Failure to comply with any rule or instruction will result in punishment, the timing, nature and severity to be determined by LF. 

When ordered to report to the playroom, WH will kneel to the right of the door. He will position himself with his knees spread, he will rest his palms on his knees, he will look at the floor. WH will maintain an erection.

WH will be honest with LF at all times. WH will answer any question LF asks.

WH will keep his feet and chest bare at all times unless doing so is hazardous to his body or is socially unacceptable.

WH will always be on time.

WH will not drink to intoxication.

WH will not fight.

WH will follow the rules in each section of this book. WH will record all required information.

WH will record every violation of any rule written or oral and the punishment inflicted in the punishments section of this book.

WH will provide his daily schedule to Izzy by 5:00 am for approval by LF. WH will not participate in any scheduled activity deemed inappropriate by LF.

WH will not have sexual contact with anyone other than LF.

WH will allow Izzy to tend to the after effects of WH's and LF's activities.

WH will produce his log immediately upon request by LF. WH will be held accountable for his log and every thing in it.

WH will not touch, fondle or otherwise sexually pleasure himself with out permission from LF.k

All rules apply to WH at all times whether LF is present or not.

He finishes the section. "Do you have any questions about the code of conduct and what I expect?"

"No Laurel." he answer is almost monotone.

"Warren, remove the rest of your clothing." He hesitates but not long enough for me to call him on it. A year from now it would be punishable. When he sits back down I ask him "Have you masturbated since you left here yesterday?"

The expression on his face gives away the truth. But I can see him deciding how to answer "Yes Laurel." 

I smile, "Was it a punishable error?" He may as well start learning how in control of his life I am right now. 

His eyes drop, "Yes Laurel."

"Warren, open your book to the next section." I am soaked, I let him see me run my hand over my breast tweaking the nipple. He is staring at the page, biting his lower lip. I want to bite that lip hard, slap him, see my hand on his face. I want to punish him for making me feel out of control. He doesn't expect it, I slap his face. "I want to look at my hand print while you read this section." He actually smiles. Something inside me sings.

The silver calligraphy reads:

Punishment and Sexual activities.

"Warren, I want you to turn to the third page please. There is a pen next to your plate. Please put today's date on the top of the page. One the first line I want you to write 'covered my chest at an inappropriate time' skip three lines. On the next line write 'covered my feet at an inappropriate time' skip the lines again and write 'masturbated without permission.'" 

"The first skipped line is where you will write the punishment I dictate. On the second skipped line you will rate how painful you found the punishment on a scale of 1-10, if you safe word you will write the safe word instead. A safe word is considered a 10+. Your transgressions need to be identified by date and you must keep the list current."

"Always remember you are to follow the rules at all times. Now turn to the first page. You are going to read and I will continue to feed you between instructions. Do you understand everything so far?"

"Yes Laurel." He actually seems to be relaxing.

Punishment

Punishment, the timing, nature and severity will be at the sole discretion of LF

Discipline tools will be reviewed every six months. WH will be allowed to remove any thing from play at that time. WH may place any object that he has been subjected to in the box at any time. LF will take WH's wishes in consideration, however the item will not be excluded from use until the end of the current six month period. WH is encouraged to research and request the purchase of implements, tools and toys.

WH will be punished on any portion of his body.

He looks terrified. I know it is not the punishment itself, but that I have taken away his comfort zone. 

Safe words:

With out clear communication accidental injury may occur. It is WH's responsibility to use the safe words as directed. Using the safe words will not elicit additional punishment.

Red - WH has reached his limit for an activity. All activity will cease immediately.

Yellow - WH is nearing his tolerance for an actively

Blue - WH has immediate need of a restroom

A breach of WH's skin will halt all activity immediately.

Enemas and holding of water may be used as forms of punishment. WH will use the safe word blue to avoid accidents when containment is under his own control. WH will be allowed to evacuate the results and recover in the privacy of his own bathroom.

When he finishes the paragraph he looks up. "That means what I think it means doesn't it?"

"Yes Warren it means exactly what it says. You did not remove the enema tools from the playroom. This is now non negotiable." He draws in a deep breath. 

Isolation may be used as a form of punishment. WH maybe subjected to periods up to seven days in complete isolation. WH will be provided with a panic button and will be attended to with in three minutes of its activation.

WH may be restrained for long periods of time. WH maybe isolated while restrained. If isolated a panic button will be affixed in WH's right hand. WH will be attended within one minute of activating the panic button. WH will be under observation at all times when restrained and isolated.

Things that will be excluded from use in punishing WH.

Withholding of food or water.

Breath control.

Fire, flame, burning, and hot wax. 

Electrical current whether AC or DC

Needles, knives, razors and piercing implements.

WH will not be subjected to caning or anal fisting, 

WH will not receive punishment fucks administered by a male.

Any activity that would lead to physical harm beyond bruising and welts. No permanent injury will be inflicted.

When he finishes the page Warren remains quiet. I can see him rereading it's contents. He takes a deep breath and visibly relaxes. 

"Do you have anything you want to ask?" I keep my voice soft and reassuring. There is a lot to assimilate in the punishment guidelines.

He looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers. "Have you ever ordered a male be punishment fucked but another male?"

Now it is my turn to be uncomfortable. "Yes, Warren I have, just once. My male sub was injured, I became jealous and enraged. I punished both males, beyond reason. I even ignored a safe word. It will never happen again. I have since learned how to effectively administer a punishment fuck myself." He looks relieved, I would have been scared by my admission in Warrens position. "Are you ready to continue?"

He turns the page

Sexual training and activities

WH will obey any instructions given by LF immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. WH will agree to any sexual activity deemed for and pleasurable by LF. He will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

WH May be given reward chips by LF for exemplary behavior. They maybe exchanged for sexual activities of WH's choice. Subject to the approval of LF.

If WH is asked if wishes to participate in an activity during sexual training, WH will answer in only two ways:

If WH would like to participate he will answer "As long as it pleases you Laurel." 

If WH would prefer not to participate he will answer. "Only if it pleases you Laurel."

LF will take into consideration WH's preference. His answer will not be the deciding factor.

The following may be included in sexual training and activities:

Masturbation

Cunnilingus

Fellatio

Vaginal intercourse

Anal intercourse

Vibrators

Dildos

Butt plugs

Ball, cock, and anal restraints/trainers

Spanking

Paddling

Whipping

Suspension

Inversion

Clamping

Blindfolding

Sensory deprivation

Ice

The following activities are excluded from sexual training and activities. 

Enemas and holding of water.

Breath Control

Fire, flame, burning, and hot wax.

Electrical current whether AC or DC.

Needless, knives, razors and piercing implements.

WH will not be subjected to caning, anal fisting, or urethra plugs (sounds).

Any activity that would lead to physical harm beyond bruising and welts. No permanent injury will be inflicted.

"Warren do you have any questions about sexual activities?" I can see him hesitating to ask something. "Warren, you can ask me anything. There won't be lies between us."

He can't look at me, and a blush is crossing his skin. I simply wait.

"Laurel, enemas and holding water are on the punishment list. If this is an activity you enjoy why Is it excluded on the sexual training list?"

"Warren, part of what I enjoy about punishment, is the control I have over basic human function. That activity is debasing, humiliating and painful. It can also be very sexually simulating. It is definitely an effective tool. For me it is part of the punishment process. If after you have experienced this you would like me to remove it from the excluded activities I will consider doing so. Do you have any other questions?"

"The urethra plug, it's not excluded as punishment, but it is excluded here, I would then assume it is for the same reason. But I don't even know what it is." His voice is almost a whisper and he is blushing.

"A urethra plug is a fairly thin rod up to about eight inches long. That is used to stretch the urethra. Some men find it stimulating. They come both with and with out a hollow tube center for urine to escape. I think they are ugly. There a smaller versions that wrap around the head and only block the tip for forced urine retention. Do you have any other questions?"

"No Laurel."

"Warren, the rest of the book, Is your eating, sleeping and exercise regiment. I expect you to read those sections and be following them by 10:00 pm tonight. Izzy, Josh, Gideon, and I are family, actually closer. I do not keep secrets from them. You do not have any privacy from them. I am well aware of how difficult what you are going through is. Josh and Gideon have both been submissive, you are allowed to talk to them if you need or want to. Now go to the playroom and wait for me."

"Laurel, were they your submissives?" Warren reaches for his clothing.

"No, Warren, they were not my subs. Leave your clothing there, and do as you were told." Warren, walks head down towards the house. I follow closely headed for my shower.

I check the playroom from my closet. Warren is kneeling in position his cock erect, his eyes cast down, just waiting. I intend to make sure he doesn't soon forget exactly where he is to be uncovered. I intend to mark his skin heavily.

"Warren, please kneel length wise on the wide bench." I retrieve the items I intend to use. When I turn Warren is in position just waiting. 

I pass a wide belt over his ankles and around the table tightening it till his ankles are trapped and the soles of his feet turned up. I do the same just below his knees. I cuff his wrists and attach them to the sides of the bench. 

I secure his sack with a ball stretcher and fasten it pulled taunt to the front of the bench. His cock is hard as a rock, dribbling pre-cum. 

I pick up the two rulers: one green plastic, the other traditional wood. The terror on his face evident. I bow the plastic ruler and snap it against the arch of his right foot. A blood cuddling scream cuts the air, his hips jerk causing a second howl as his balls are yanked. I repeat this action three times on each foot. His reaction is the same with each snap.

Tears run down his face but he isn't making a sound. I pick up the wood ruler and begin slapping it against his chest. He tries to control his body but he still jumps and pulls with each snap. He is controlling his sound better only crying out every few snaps. 

When I finish with the ruler on his back Warren is sobbing. His back and chest are already covered with small purple lines. It's just the foundation for the layers of color I intend to lay down. I run my hand gently over the marks. Suckling and licking the welts that have risen.

Warren is moaning over his tears as I comfort him. I stroke his cock playing my nails over his stretched ball sac. His cock is quickly rising in my hand. I bring him right to the edge of cumming and deny him once again.

I grab the flogger.It is one of my lighter ones. I begin on his chest. This time I want to look at his face. I twirl the flogger just brushing the tips over his skin. The skin around the welts raised by the rulers turns pin,the contrast paints a portrait of pain over his chest.

I work his back ending at his feet. I leave his ass, cock and legs completely untouched. He takes the flogging well moans moans and groans forced from his body by the blows. He doesn't cry out and no tears roll down his cheeks. I am proud of him. 

Once again I comfort his body, bathing the marks with my tongue. Stroking his cock. Teasing his balls first with my nails, then with my warm breath. His begging is deeper more pained.

I pick up the two inch strap. I am going to stripe his back. It's going to be fast and exceedingly difficult. He has to maintain his own upright position. It's ten fast blows, he emits one long howl. I finish with the strap across his arches. 

He is only restrained at five points. Releasing him is quick. He is free before his sobs ebb. "Lay on your back. Hands at your side." I bark, the anger still ringing in my tone. 

He moves quickly. His chest is still heaving in an attempt to control his sobbing tears. I stroke him quickly to a cum. His misery still evident even as the jets of cum speckle his chest.

As I leave,I stop in the doorway "The garden club will meet here next week. There is a lot to be done in the garden, get back to work." I smile to myself knowing Warren will be one of the main attractions.

Izzy is in the kitchen making me breakfast, we leave in an hour. God I hate political lobbying, Robb knows it. We're Republicans, I am a Kennedy democrat, I keep my mouth shut, and put pressure on the right people. Just like he punishes me brutally before and after fund raising and charity events. He lavishes me with attention and only uses his hands on me during political events. I am looking forward to feeling his skin against mine. 

Josh comes ambling in as I am staring out the window. I love watching Warren work. I grab my stool at the bar and scarf down my oatmeal, starved and anxious is not a good combo. 

Gideon comes in just as I am finishing my toast, it's time to go. As I gather my things he asks "Solve the virginity situation with your toy yet?" I playfully slap his arm, the door slams, before I can make a crack back. I look out the window Warren is pacing, running his hand through his hair. Oh Shit, Damnit he heard it. Crap what am I going to do. Nikko has my arm and is walking me to the car. My mind in screaming "Warren" but I am following Nikko.