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Twelve Gates Ch. 01

By: North200



Grey hurried into her computer chair and booted her laptop. Ten minutes late! And tonight of all nights! Her chat window loaded automatically. As she signed in, she prayed that he had waited. She felt a wash of relief when she saw 'North200' was still online. He was always on time. Always there for her. In the two weeks since she'd seen his profile and messaged him, he hadn't been a moment late for their nightly chats. Almost immediately his first message arrived. 

Greetings, kitten. He used blue 14-point font. The text was easy to read; the author much less so. 

Greetings, Sir. She capitalized the 'S' out of habit now. I'm SO sorry I was late! 

Grandmother was running a little behind again this evening? 

Yes Sir. I got here as soon as I could. 

Grandmother had been impossible the last few nights; getting her to bed by nine without making her feel rushed posed a challenge. 

But you're all mine now? 

She loved how early in the chat he set the mood, and how gently. His dominance was easy and comfortable, something warm she could wrap herself in. 

Yes Sir -- ALL yours. 

Did you miss me? 

Oh yes Sir. So much. I wish we could start our chats earlier. It's torture to have to wait for 9. 

I'm glad you're so eager. I want you as hungry for me as I am for you. 

She felt a surge of warmth. It felt so good to finally be the object of a man's hunger. Even if they were words on a laptop screen, the tingle they produced was authentic. 

I am Sir. I've been craving you all day. 

Was 'craving' even the right word? The thought of him had shadowed her from the moment she woke. His presence rode with her on the bus and buoyed her as she fetched and filed for her employers at Stern, Franken and Fitch. The mindlessness of the work freed her thoughts and she would cast her mind back to previous chats, weighing and measuring his words. Maybe 'craving' was the right word after all - she craved him like a smoker craved the next puff. 

What are you wearing for me this evening, kitten? 

My black yoga pants, a pink top and pink socks, Sir. 

Is that all, kitten? 

She winced at her own screw-up and her cheeks coloured slightly. Even after two weeks, she still hadn't gotten it right. Modesty had been the rule for all of her 29 years; learning a new way was taking time. 

No Sir. Also pink panties and a white bra with pink trim. Even typing the words made her feel exposed. 

So your first answer wasn't entirely complete, was it? 

He was teasing her, chiding her for her lapse. 

No Sir. It wasn't. 

What did I say I would do if you broke the rule again? 

Her blush deepened, her breathing quickened as she recalled his words from the previous night. 

You said you would discipline me, Sir. 

Typing the words thrilled her, and even scared her a little. How had he taken so much control from her in two short weeks? It was so unlike her...so CRAZY...to have ceded so much power so someone whose name she didn't even know. 

Stand up, kitten. 

Her heart pounded, her nipples stiffened. She briefly considered disobeying and writing the words he wanted to see while she remained seated. That was always her option -- he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her, wouldn't know one way or the other if she obeyed. But the thought vanished even as it formed. His gentle command heated her. No one else made her feel like this. She stood. 

I'm standing Sir. 

Remove your yoga pants. 

Yes Sir. 

She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of the pants and peeled them down her legs and off. The air on her bare legs made her feel sexy and uninhibited. She set the pants on her bed -- she would need to dress quickly if Grandmother called. 

They're off, Sir. 

And how do you feel, kitten, standing before me in your pink panties? 

Exposed, Sir. Embarrassed. Nervous. Excited. 

Wet? 

The bold question flushed her cheeks. She never imagined she could share such intimate details with a man -- a virtual stranger. Her hands trembled as she typed. 

I think so, Sir. 

Check and see. 

Yes Sir. 

Her body felt hot, her breathing was deep and fast. She slipped her right hand under the elastic waistband of her panties, sliding her fingers through the downy black curls to her swollen slit. Her clit was engorged and delivered a shock of pure pleasure as her fingertips grazed it on their way past. She widened her stance slightly and slowly curled her middle finger up between the swollen lips of her pussy, gasping as it slid through her hot folds with no resistance. Her sex was quick to respond to his control. She scented her arousal in the still air of her bedroom as she dried the slick digit on the outside of her panties. 

Yes Sir, I am. 

You are what, kitten? 

Her face burned. Her nipples throbbed, imprisoned under her bra. Her clit cried out for attention. 

Wet. 

Do you mean you're a little damp, or you're soaked? 

Soaked, Sir. 

Mmmmm. That sounds delicious, kitten. But business before pleasure. You were late today, and you broke a rule. 

Grey felt a pang of contrition followed by a brief twinge of nervousness that he might be truly displeased. The thought quickly passed quickly -- he had never shown anger, only patience at the delays her Grandmother caused. But breaking his rule might be another matter. 

Yes Sir. 

What is the rule, kitten? 

Complete Truth, Sir. When you ask a question, I must answer with the Complete Truth. 

That's an important rule, kitten. And this is the third time you've broken it since Monday. Perhaps you're not taking me seriously? 

Please don't think that, Sir! I take you VERY seriously. 

Then maybe a little discipline will keep the rule fresh in your mind? 

The idea of submitting to his discipline had both riled and thrilled her since he'd first brought it up the night before last. To give a man the power to set the rules and to punish her for breaching them would have seemed laughable two weeks ago. Yet now she stood panty-clad and wet and hungry and repentant. Ready to accept his terms. She could feel her pulse race as her fingers tapped the keys. 

Yes Sir. 

Good girl. We'll start easy...THIS time. 

Yes Sir. Thank you. 

There was a pause of about 45 seconds. Grey could only await his next words in a state of arousal and anxiety . The crotch of her panties started to soak. 

After our chat tonight, you will get a pen and paper and write 50 times "I must answer with the Complete Truth". They you'll scan the pages and email them to me. You'll complete this before you sleep. Understood? 

The thought of sitting and writing lines like an errant child was humiliating, but it somehow made her feel more submissive, more controlled. How could he so easily stimulate the part of her soul that she hadn't even known existed? 

Yes Sir, understood. 

Is there anything else you'd like to say on this matter? 

Yes Sir. I'm sorry for forgetting your rule, and I'll really try hard not to let it happen again. 

I know you're trying hard, kitten. I won't let you fail. Have a seat now, just as you are. 

Yes Sir. I'm sitting now. 

I enjoy the thought of you in just your top and panties. I'd like you to dress this way whenever we chat from now on. Will you do that for me, kitten? 

Another rule. Another tiny piece of her independence surrendered to her nameless, faceless Dominant. So why did she relish the thought of it? Because the computer made it safe and anonymous? Because she could stop it any time she wanted? Or did it speak to something more fundamental to her psyche? This time it didn't even occur to her to refuse him. 

Yes Sir, of course. 

Good girl. Do you remember what happens tonight? 

Yes Sir. The First Gate. 

For the first time in the two blissful weeks of their online liaison, she felt a pang of real fear. Early on, when he'd told her about his Twelve Gates plan, she had thought him insufferably arrogant. 

"Every two weeks I'll assign you a special task, something that will require you to submit yourself to me to a greater degree. The task is like a gate -- you can choose to go though or you can refuse. If you refuse, then our journey is over. If you complete the task then we continue along to the next gate. Each new gate gets more difficult to pass." is how he'd explained it. 

It annoyed her - offended her - that he assumed she would jump through hoops for his amusement, and the demand was in stark contrast to his usual, coaxing style. Was it a game? A heavy-handed macho attempt to prove his control over her? Did he think she would submit to such obvious emotional blackmail? 

Except... in the eleven days since he had broached the subject, his chats had become the bright spot in her otherwise dull, boxed-in life. He was friendly and funny and attentive. He offered sympathy and support when she wrote of her frustrations at work. He didn't judge her about her weight or the size of her breasts or that she had to ride the bus or that she had worked at the same job for 5 years without a promotion. He didn't care that she lived with her ultra-conservative Grandmother and she couldn't talk to him on the phone. He told her jokes when she was down. He teased her and excited her and awarded her his undivided focus each night. And he made her burn with embarrassment and lust and need. With him -- only with him -- she could be the woman she truly dreamed she was. Could she lose him now? 

Yes. First Gate. Do you want to hear your task? 

Do I have to, Sir? 

No, kitten. You can refuse. You can always refuse. 

But then you'll stop chatting with me! 

This is true. But the choice is yours. 

She felt her arousal retreat, replaced by a growing sense of desperation. 

That's not fair! 

That's true as well. It's quite unfair. 

Then why? You're being unreasonable. 

She waited a long, anxious minute before his blue text popped up in the chat window. 

I suppose I want to find a woman who can love an unreasonable man, kitten. 

The part of her that was sane and rational and proud screamed at her to cut and run. After all, how many potential chat partners were out there? Ten million? More? Just because this was the first one that made her feel this way didn't mean he would be the last. The law of averages was on her side. End it now, before she learned his name, before the craving became something unhealthy or dangerous. 

But the part of her that had thought about him all day, that had counted the minutes until their 9 o'clock chat, that had stripped off her pants and fingered her pussy at his command...the long-dormant side that yearned for freedom, whispered "hear him out. At least find out what the First Gate is. You can stop any time..." 

Fine. This is SO unfair. Let's hear it then. 

Excuse me? 

She took a steadying breath. 

I'd like to hear about the First Gate please, Sir. 

Much better. Your first task is to give me your cell phone number. I know you can't talk where Grandmother could overhear, but I want to send you text messages throughout the day. That's the First Gate. 

Grey read the words with an odd mix of relief and concern. She had expected the task to be sexual, perhaps painful or humiliating. Something like a fraternity initiation, just to see if she'd chicken out. The surrender of her cell phone number wouldn't hurt or embarrass; it would strip away some of her anonymity. As it was, all he had on her was text on a screen and her chat name: GreyMouse109 -- she had even used fake information to sign up for her email account. But her cell phone was registered to her. Would he be able to learn her identity, and from that her address? Where she worked? Would he stalk her? Was he a threat? 

Or was she being over-cautious? She was 29 years old, after all, not some helpless child. And it was just a phone number. People exchanged phone numbers every day. She had to admit to herself that the idea of receiving texts from someone other than her older sister was exciting. Was this his way of getting closer -- of raising the level of intimacy? Viewed from that angle, the request was kind of flattering... 

Do I have to give my answer now, Sir? Can I give it some thought? 

Of course, kitten. But we can go no further until we've passed through the Gate. I'll sign off and you can email me when you decide. 

Wait! 

Her heart rebelled at the thought of ending the chat early when she'd waited all day to enjoy his company. She needed this time with him... 

You just want to text me, Sir? I can't talk at night, and I'm too busy to take calls at work. 

Just text, kitten. You know that I would seek your consent before going further than that. 

Grey took a deep breath and quickly typed her 10-digit cell number. Her finger hesitated over the ENTER key. It truly did feel like she was passing through a gate, crossing a threshold. No going back...she sent the message. 

There was a long, anxious pause as she stared at her cell phone number in the chat window, elated and shocked that she had dared to send it. 

She heard the high-pitched 'ding' from her phone that usually announced a text from her sister. Grey snatched the phone off the bed and saw a new text from an unknown number. 

Well done, kitten. We've passed through the First Gate. How does it feel? 

She smiled at the perfect spelling and punctuation of the text. His messages had always been thoughtful and well-crafted. She keyed a response on the touch screen of her phone. 

It feels scary and exciting, Sir. 

The next message appeared in the chat window on her computer. 

Each Gate will be like that. Each one a little scarier and more exciting than the one before. 

But we have two weeks until the next one, right? 

That's right. 

I hope I'll be ready when the time comes, Sir. 

Time will tell, my kitten. In any case, I want to hear about your day! Is your boss still giving you a hard time about the file re-org? 

Her smile widened and she marveled that there was someone on earth who actually wanted to hear about her frustrations and her boring office job. She keyed her response. The chat lasted long into the night.

Twelve Gates Ch. 02



A faint buzzing from her purse alerted Grey to an incoming text. She quickly dug her phone out and smiled on seeing his number. In the three days since she'd passed the First Gate he'd sent three or four text messages each day - pleasant greetings and intimate reminders that she was fresh in his mind as he went about his work. She still hadn't assigned an alias to his phone number on her cell phone, preferring to wait until she learned his true name.

His texts didn't diminish the yearning she felt for their nightly chats. If anything they served to whet her appetite for that treasured few hours that had quickly become the sweetest part of her otherwise unsatisfying day.

She glanced furtively around the half-full bus to confirm that she had enough privacy to enjoy the text, then opened it.

Good morning, my kitten. I'm at work and thinking of you already. Tell me what you're wearing.

She knew how she must look as she grinned warmly at her cell phone, and she didn't care. His texts filled her with a giddy heat. She carefully tapped a response in the touchscreen.

Good morning Sir. I thought of you the moment I opened my eyes this morning. Wearing a gray skirt / white blouse and open-toe heels.

She sent the text, then quickly added a follow up.

Underneath that, black panties and a lacy white bra.

There was a pause after she sent the second text and Grey felt pleased with herself - the 50 lines she had written the other night hadn't been a waste. She was starting to get the hang of Complete Truth at last!

I bet you look great! When you get to work please remove your panties until tonight. Bare under your skirt today, kitten.

She flushed and her heart hammered in her chest as she considered his instructions. This was something new - he frequently had her in various states of undress during their nightly chats in the privacy of her room, but never at work. To be without panties in public, let alone among co-workers, sounded so indecent.

She felt a fleeting inclination to refuse or to disobey but it was quickly brushed aside by the much stronger desire to please him. More and more it felt natural and comfortable to do as he directed. Was that due to the easy, gentle way he expressed his dominance? Or was her submissive side gaining in confidence and trust?

Yes Sir. I'll stop in the washroom first thing.

Good girl. I'll check in on you this afternoon. Can't wait for tonight!

Same here! You're in my mind all day. xoxoxo

****

By 10:30am, Grey knew she was in trouble.

It started at 8:35, the moment she stepped out of the washroom with her panties tucked away at the bottom of her purse. The walk to her desk was a non-stop reminder that her slit was uncovered under her skirt. Each step caused currents of air to flow over her nether lips in a gentle caress. The light linen of the skirt brushed against her wispy pubic hair and rubbed against the cheeks of her rear end. Her ass, pussy and thighs were awash in teasing, subtle, constant stimulation.

More than the distracting physical sensations, being panty-less occupied her mind. Around her coworkers she felt naked. Small movements of her skirt triggered flashes of naughty pleasure and brought a pink flush to her cheeks. She stammered and tripped over her words.

The most arousing aspect of being nude under the skirt was that she was doing it for HIM. For her online lover. At his command. For his pleasure. The idea that he'd gained the power to undress her at his whim - it filled Grey with a powerful and persistent lust.

And that was the source of her trouble.

Her pussy was hot and leaking arousal. She could feel the wetness as the skirt fanned air onto her swollen cunt lips. If she sat for even a few moments her juices made an obvious wet spot on the back of her gray skirt. She tried to stand as much as possible, but standing allowed the skirt to move about and it drove her heat even higher. The scent of her lust was thick in her cubicle - could everyone smell it, or just her? Her face was flushed with arousal and embarrassment. She needed to get help!

She grabbed her purse and fled to the bathroom. Locking herself in a stall, she tapped a message on her cell phone.

May I make a request, Sir?

She sat on the commode with her skirt hiked out of the way. With her slit fully exposed, the scent was strong and heady and sweet. Her slit felt swollen and heavy; it ached with need. Grey longed to stroke her clit with her fingertips - all that stopped her was the knowledge that her moans might be heard outside the door.

Her phone buzzed and she almost gasped in relief.

You can always ask, kitten. What's on your mind?

Could I please put my panties back on, Sir?

Tell me why you want them back on.

She burned with embarrassment as she forced herself to reply with the Complete Truth.

Going without panties is VERY arousing. I'm leaking and messing the back of my skirt.

I suppose I might allow it. But there will be a price. Are you willing to pay it, kitten?

Her heart thundered and she felt her cunt spasm as she considered what that price might be. The heat she felt was causing her to perspire; she felt feverish.

Yes Sir, please! I'll never make it through the day at this rate.

Where are you now?

I'm in the washroom, Sir. In a stall.

Sit with your legs wide apart, kitten. As wide as you can spread them comfortably.

Done Sir.

Wet your finger and slide it over your clit in small circles. Just a light, feather touch.

Yes Sir.

Don't rub hard. Just light, barely-there touches.

Ok Sir.

And you may not have an orgasm, kitten. That's for later...

Grey bit her tongue to stifle a moan. She fought to keep her touch light, fought the urge to bring herself to a quick and desperately-needed climax. Even the faint touches to her hungry clit were sending delicious shivers and shocks and pulses of pleasure through her core.

Her breathing came deep and fast. She lost track of time and place, forgetting her work and her surroundings. Eyes closed, index finger teasing and tormenting on the command of her lover, she lost herself in the urgent need building inside her.

And then she was at her limit, where even the lightest brush of her finger threatened to push her over the edge into orgasm. With a shaking left hand, she struggled with the phone touchscreen.

I'm so close Sir.

I think you can work a little harder for me, kitten. Keep stroking. Don't you dare cum!

Yes Sir.

Obediently she continued to stroke, her skillful fingers warring with her self-control. Even as she rubbed slippery fingers over her clit, she groaned and battled the rising orgasm inside her. For long minutes she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

Stop stroking now, kitten.

Every fibre of her body begged her disobey, to continue into ecstasy. The will to please him won out. Some part of her was amazed by how powerful that submissive will had become.

Yes Sir. I've stopped.

I want you to tell me how you feel right now. Complete Truth.

Hot. Desperate. Slutty. I need to cum!

When was the last time you felt this aroused?

Grey didn't even need to think about the answer.

Never. Never in my whole life, Sir.

That makes me really happy, kitten.

Can I finish Sir?

Finish, kitten?

Can I cum now?

Is it my decision?

Yes Sir.

Then I'd like you to wait until after work. Feel me strongly today, kitten. Will you do that?

Yes Sir, for you I will.

Ok, slide those panties on, kitten.

May I dry myself first?

That wet, are you?

I'm leaking constantly. If I put panties on now I'll just soak right through. The wet spot really shows on a gray skirt, Sir. Please?

Dry yourself, kitten, then put your panties on. I imagine I'll be close to you for the rest of the day?

Oh yes, Sir. I won't be able to think of anything else.

We'll chat tonight, kitten. Back to work with you!

Yes Sir. Bye for now.

****

Did you miss me, kitten?

His blue text popped up in the chat window at 9 o'clock sharp, and she was waiting. She sat on her bed with her back propped up against some pillows, her laptop between her knees.

Desperately.

That's a yes, then?

YES!

Heh. What are you wearing now, kitten?

A bath robe. I just finished a shower, Sir.

We had quite a moment in the washroom this morning!

I can't believe I did that!

Going without panties certainly affected you.

Knowing it was what you wanted is what made me so hot, Sir.

It won't be the last time I send you to work without panties, kitten.

Please not too often, Sir.

You didn't like it?

I loved it but I was a distracted mess the entire day. You'll get me fired, Sir.

I'll use discretion, pet. How do you feel right now?

I want you. Bad. I've been hot for you since this morning.

Did you get yourself off when you got home?

No Sir.

No? Why not?

I didn't know if I was supposed to.

You need me to tell you when, kitten?

The question caused a flush of excitement and embarrassment. Had he gained control of that part of her as well? She took a long moment to compose a reply.

I just wasn't sure what you wanted, Sir.

Is that the Complete Truth, kitten?

She silently cursed his uncanny ability to read her. It was like he was inside her head. He never allowed her to back away from the truth about herself or to deny what she felt. She hoped he wouldn't make her write lines again.

No Sir. The Complete Truth is that part of me wants you to decide when I can get off. The idea of you having such intimate control is exciting but kind of scary.

Why scary?

I feel like I'm losing control. You can tell me what to wear, when and how to touch myself. I think of you ALL the time. I feel like I would do anything you ask. I'm not sure that's a good thing.

Writing it brought her fears and doubts to the surface. Was it healthy for her to be so deeply invested in an online relationship? Was it safe?

Because I could abuse that control?

I'm not saying I think you would abuse me, Sir. I guess I'm saying that giving up so much of myself to anyone is a big risk. I'm falling in love with you and I don't even know your name!

The second she sent the message, she regretted it. She'd chatted with him for less than three weeks and she was talking about love? How sad and desperate did that look? She knew from soul-crushing experience how talk like that would drive a man off.

There was a long, painful pause. The damage was done and all she could do was wait on his response.

My name is Robert.

Her anxiety vanished, replaced by relief. Robert. Not a rejection of her feelings but an effort to facilitate them! Or one step down that path in any case. She had to stifle a loud squeal of delight for fear of waking Grandmother. It took a minute for her to quiet her feelings enough to type a response.

Thank you for that, Robert.

Thank you for your honesty, kitten. If we're going too fast, I can back off a bit if it will make you more comfortable.

No! Please don't, Sir. I want more of you, not less.

Mmmm. I feel the same way. And I think that from now on, I will be the one to decide if and how you will get off. How do you feel about that, kitten?

I'm ok with it Sir. A little scared but mostly excited.

I'm glad there is more excitement than fear.

So the rule is that I can only get off when you say?

Even writing the words made her feel warm. The wet heat between her legs, briefly dampened, now raged once again.

That's right. No touching either. Your body is a gift for us to share only when we're together.

Oh Sir!

Too much too soon, kitten?

No Sir, it's not that. I'm so hot for you right now.

And what shall we do about that?

Let me touch?

I want you to ask clearly for what you need, kitten.

Yes Sir. Please let me touch myself. Please let me get off tonight. I need it SO bad, especially after this morning.

Let me show you the value of what you've put in my hands. Undo the bathrobe and open it.

Yes Sir - done.

Good girl. Use your fingertips only - lightly stroke your breasts all over, but avoid the nipples.

She'd always felt her breasts were small and out of proportion to her plus-size body but they didn't lack in sensitivity. The gentle stroking caused welcome tingles and shivers that quickened her breathing and brought her nipples erect. She stroked her fingers along the top and sides and let them glide over the undersides. The sensations seemed to build as she continued the teasing caress.

He let her caress herself for a few minutes uninterrupted.

Keep doing that with your left hand. With your right hand I want you to gently stroke your fingernails along your thighs, your mound and the skin under your bellybutton. Inner thighs as well, but avoid your pussy altogether. Your pussy and clit are totally off limits. Clear, kitten?

Yes Sir. Feels so good!

She could feel the heat from her swollen cunt as she trailed her fingernails down one thigh and then up the other. Her heart pounded and she had to concentrate to prevent her fingers from seeking out her nipples and throbbing clit. Every stroke of her hand along that intimate flesh sensitized the skin and deepened her hunger. After four minutes she had reached the breaking point.

I'm so ready, Sir.

What is it you're ready for, kitten?

He was teasing her of course - how could he NOT know what he was doing to her? She knew he wouldn't allow her to hide from him behind coy euphemisms.

Please may I touch my pussy, Sir?

Writing the words triggered a surge of arousal even as she felt her face blush a deep pink. To ask for permission for such an intimate and shameless act thrilled her, made her feel wild and wanton.

No. I think we'll leave that hot slit alone for tonight.

She read the words in disbelief and desperation, even as her fingers continued their teasing touches.

Please Sir? I really need it - this morning and this evening have made me so hot. Please let me touch my clit for you?

She blushed a deeper shade as she realized that she was begging for permission to touch her own body. Begging! But the threat of being denied her climax drew the words from her.

You sound very eager, kitten.

Oh yes Sir. I've never been this horny. Please!

Who decides if you can stroke that swollen clit?

You do Sir.

And if I decide that you will wait until tomorrow?

Then I'll have to wait, Sir.

She would not sway him.

They chatted until eleven and her own fingers tormented her for most of that time at his direction. When he put her to bed hot and soaked, she closed her eyes and imagined his touch and heard his words and felt his control so strongly it was almost tangible. And she yearned for tomorrow and knew that again her first thoughts would be of Robert.



Twelve Gates Ch. 03



Does it seem like it's been a month, kitten?

Grey was comfortable in bed with her back propped up against pillows. Her bedsheet was pulled up to her waist with the laptop resting on her legs. She was topless; her nipples erect and eager for attention.

She slowly trailed her fingertips over the exposed flesh of her breasts, avoiding her nipples out of habit now. She knew the ways Robert wanted her to stroke and tease herself and even after a few short minutes it was having the arousing effect he desired. She always spent their chats in a state of sexual hunger, wet and flushed and increasingly needy. Perhaps tonight he would permit her the first orgasm of the week.

Hard to say, Sir. In some ways I hardly know you and in some ways it feels like you've been with me my whole life.

I wish I had known you that long. You've made the past month my best one ever.

Thank you Sir.

We've come to the Second Gate, kitten.

Yes Sir, I know.

Grey had been anticipating the Second Gate with equal parts dread and excitement. The idea that she would have to agree to his terms or lose him seemed unfair and coercive - naked emotional blackmail. A part of her still resented him for forcing her in this way. But a much smaller part than before.

Before we get to that, how do you feel the First Gate worked out for you?

Receiving texts from you throughout the day has brought me SO much joy, Sir.

So you feel your life is better for having passed through the First Gate?

Yes Sir. No doubt.

I'm glad to hear it, kitten.

Would you please tell me about the Second Gate, Sir?

She didn't want to delay the inevitable; the upcoming task had been hanging over her for the last couple of days. He had told her that each Gate would be scarier and more exciting than the one before it, and she was eager to get it over with. She was almost certain she would agree to whatever terms he set out; to have him absent from her life after four blissful weeks was painful to imagine.

The Second Gate is this: you will turn on your webcam. From now on you will be a treat for my eyes as well as my heart and mind.

A chill of horror washed over her as she read his words. The webcam would reveal her identity in stark detail. She would be exposed like never before in her life - exposed in ways that could be compromising and dangerous. She would be revealed in a manner that could damage her reputation, her career and her relationships with her family.

And she didn't want Robert to see her.

She wasn't pretty by conventional standards and she knew it. Too short. Too fat. Small-breasted. A plain face with a spotty complexion. Thin lips. Unattractive nose. Thick thighs. Big ass.

Since adolescence she'd compiled a complete list of her physical shortcomings and kept it up to date with an almost religious zeal. She knew very well that she wasn't a treat for anyone's eyes. And when Robert saw her, he would realize this. He'd see that she wasn't the sexy, flirty girl he'd come to know through text but rather an unattractive, undesirable fraud. He'd be turned off and disappointed. And then he'd leave.

She was close to tears as her fingers moved over the keyboard.

Sir may I please ask you to choose a different task for the Second Gate? Please not this.

There was a long pause before he responded.

Tell me why you're asking that, kitten.

It was Grey's turn to pause. How to respond to such a loaded question? Forcing her fingers over the keys was agony.

It's a great personal risk, Sir. But more than that, I'm not sure that you would be pleased by my appearance. I'm not especially beautiful. Much less than beautiful, actually. I'm so sorry.

The Complete Truth was soul-crushing to type and to send, and she couldn't hold back a sob. She took deep breaths so Grandmother wouldn't hear her crying and come to investigate. She considered just powering off her laptop and going to bed. There was no way she could pass this Gate.

His reply was so long in coming that she started to wonder if he had given up on her entirely. Would she blame him if he had?

It's your right to refuse if that's what you really want. But I don't think it is.

I don't want to lose you, Sir. You're the best thing in my life. But the webcam is an impossible request.

Why am I the best thing, kitten?

Because you're funny and caring. You're attentive and you devote so much time to me. You make me feel warm and important and loved. I could go on...how many reasons do you need?

Am I handsome?

I have no way to answer that, Sir.

True. I could be ugly. I could be REALLY ugly. How would that change what you feel?

It was an obvious argument. He was trying to get her to admit that she wouldn't care about his appearance. And she wouldn't. But everyone knew that there were different standards for men and for women.

I see your point, but I think you'd change your tune if you saw me.

Both of us need you to pass through this Gate, kitten. Turn on your webcam.

She typed her response. 'No Sir. I'm so sorry. Goodbye.' She paused without pressing the ENTER key and stared at the words in the text window. Could she do it? Goodbye? Was the webcam really more painful than a return to her stifling, lonely, pre-Robert life?

She glanced at the tiny webcam lens built into the top of her laptop. Maybe she could turn it on but only show her face? Or maybe everything BUT her face? She could wear a disguise of some sort. Or switch the lights off in the room to obscure her image.

No. Robert wouldn't allow that. He never allowed her to hide from him, even with words. If she was going to do it, she would have to give him everything. Or refuse and leave them both with nothing.

She hit the DELETE key, wiping out the message.

She took a deep breath, and then another. Her hands were shaking as they moved - on their own - to open the webcam settings and enable the webcam. They HAD to be moving on their own - surely no part of her heart or brain could be leading her down the road to humiliation and rejection?

She stared in morbid fascination as the blue light next to the webcam lens illuminated. A real-time video image of herself appeared in the bottom right of the screen. Only her face was visible, and it looked wide-eyed with panic and disbelief. She closed her eyes for several moments, trying to understand what had happened. When she opened them, there was a message for her in the chat window in blue 14-point font.

You've passed the Second Gate, kitten. I thank you with all my heart.

She didn't know whether to cheer or cry. She was elated that she had pleased him and that she had secured their relationship for another two weeks. She was angry at him, resentful for making her feel this way and for practically forcing her into an area where she was so uncomfortable.

Yes Sir.

Please go and get your ear phones and plug them into your laptop. There's something I need you to hear.

She set the laptop aside and got out of bed, only then remembering that she was naked. Her first instinct was to shield herself from the webcam but she resisted the urge. She had passed through the Second Gate; she knew he'd be seeing her naked frequently. She quickly retrieved her ear phones from her desk and returned to bed and plugged then in.

"Can you hear me, kitten?"

Her eyes went wide with shock at the sound of a man's voice . It was deep and low and gentle, with no accent to suggest a geographical location.

I hear you Sir!

"Excellent. I figured this would be a trade of sorts - your image for my voice. From what I see, I came out ahead in that exchange."

All trace of resentment and bitterness vanished, replaced by a feeling of wonder. Awe? Surely it wasn't normal to be so swept away by a man's voice. She grinned and her heart skipped joyfully in her chest.

I don't agree, Sir. You've got a sexy voice. Thank you for sharing it.

"It was so brave of you to pass the Second Gate. I wanted something special to reward that."

Thank you Sir. It was much harder than you can imagine.

"I don't recall asking you to stop stroking your breasts, kitten. Continue, please."

His voice was teasing and warm but with an underlying firmness. He sounded like a man who was accustomed to giving guidance and direction. Perhaps he was a police officer? A manager? A teacher?

Yes Sir.

She raised her hands and continued her teasing caress.

"Lower the webcam a little so I can see both your face and your hands, kitten."

She felt a surge of fear at the prospect of displaying her naked breasts to him, but there was another feeling as well. She realized it was excitement, almost eagerness. It was as though, having crossed the threshold, there was a part of her eager to explore the new territory. She adjusted the screen as he had directed.

In the display window she could see her own image. It wasn't the same as the reflection she saw each day in the mirror. It looked sexy! SHE looked sexy. She watched the video display as her fingertips played over the naked flesh. She could see her breasts rise and fall as she breathed. The fat pink nipples stood out proudly in an obvious display of arousal.

"The sight of you is really affecting me, kitten. I'm completely enthralled. I don't think I've ever been this hard." His voice was low and she could detect the lust in it. Her breathing quickened and the now-familiar heat suffused her sex.

The idea of arousing a man with her body was new. And very appealing.

She cupped her hands under her tits and lifted them, offering them. She had to release them to type.

They're small, but they're yours, Sir.

"Mmmmm." a deep growl of appreciation.

Grey continued to stroke and caress, teasing not just herself but now Robert as well.

"Show me what else is mine, kitten."

She knew what he wanted. She took the earphones out of her ears, lifted the laptop and kicked off her blanket. She positioned the laptop between her feet and then sat back against the pillows. After a brief adjustment she could see herself in the display window - her legs and thighs; her pussy partially hidden by fine, black hair; her rounded stomach; her breasts and busy hands and her flushed face. Nothing was hidden.

She couldn't type to him and she couldn't hear his directions so she continued to stroke and caress. She imagined him looking at her. Was he stroking himself as well? The thought of him masturbating to her naked body made her red with embarrassment...and wet with lust. Her nipples throbbed, demanding attention. Her pussy felt swollen and heavy.

She pushed herself forward long enough to type a brief message.

Please Sir, I need more. May I touch my nipples for you?

She sat back and continued to stroke and tease. His blue text appeared in the window.

Enjoy your nipples, kitten.

She captured both her swollen nipples between her thumbs and index fingers and pinched gently, then twisted and rolled them. She could see the lewd display in the video window - it was slutty and wanton and sexy. The sight and the sensations flooded her pussy with warmth and arousal. Her breathing was shallow and fast.

After a couple of minutes of that, another blue message popped up.

Leave your nipples now. Back to stroking.

She groaned and reluctantly released her nipples. It drove her crazy the way he tormented her body, bringing her to a boil and then forcing her to simmer.

Are you wet, kitten?

She nodded her head at the webcam.

Show me.

She gasped out loud at the bold command. How to obey? After a brief pause to consider, she slowly slid her legs further apart, improving his view of her pussy. In the display window she could see her thick lips and the deep cleft between them through the wispy pubic hair. No man had seen her like this.

Hesitantly she reached down with her right hand. She was soaked; even the outside of her slit was wet. She slid her index finger up through her hot folds, collecting the slippery moisture, then presented the glistening finger to the webcam.

Her face burned with embarrassment at the obscene display. She felt hot all over and she was panting with need. She hungered for his next command.

Very wet indeed, kitten. Would you like to enjoy your clit for a while?

Masturbate on camera? Even as the humiliation stung her she sat forward to reply.

Oh yes Sir, please! May I touch my clit for you?

Yes you may.

Her fingers flew to her snatch. She wet them and slid them over her clit in small, skillful circles. She closed her eyes and welcomed the rush of ecstatic pleasure. She felt grateful to Robert for the wonderful gift; it was one he rationed with an almost miserly restraint. But this only made the sensations stronger and the need greater.

She bit her lower lip to silence a moan as her fingers quickly brought her to the edge. Soon she was fighting her orgasm even as her fingers worked to bring it on. She opened her eyes and looked into the webcam. She was amazed to discover that it no longer frightened her; it had quickly become just another part of what she and Robert shared.

She reached her limit and leaned forward to type.

Please Sir, may I cum? I'm so close and it's been four days since my last one. Please PLEASE say yes!

She had begged for an orgasm every night since she had given that control to him. His teasing took her to the breaking point where pride became less important than release. It still embarrassed her to type the words. She hoped desperately that this time they weren't in vain.

There was a long pause as she rubbed and gasped and cast pleading glances at the webcam.

Cum for me, kitten.

She thrilled to the words and almost immediately her body stiffened, then shook and trembled. Somehow she suppressed a loud moan of ecstasy as one incredible spasm after another assailed her core. All the worry and pent-up need from the past few days exploded out of her in an orgasm that seemed to go on and on. Even when it slowly subsided, her cunt continued to spasm with smaller aftershocks. Robert made every cum an event.

She smiled contentedly at the webcam, completely drained. A sleepy euphoria replaced the desperate hunger. She pulled the laptop up onto her legs and put the ear buds back in. Grey wanted to be cuddled afterward, and she welcomed the warm, gentle voice of the man for whom she knew no limits.



Twelve Gates Ch. 04



Fresh out of her morning shower, Grey hung her wet towel over the back of the chair and stood naked in front of the webcam. She knew Robert was watching and could almost feel the heat of his gaze. After two weeks, her nervousness in front of the camera had faded. She felt free and uninhibited - sexy, even - as she displayed herself for their mutual pleasure.

She quickly retrieved two pair of panties from the dresser and returned to stand in front of her laptop.

Robert had been dressing her every morning since she'd passed the Second Gate.

The panties were first, and they more than anything else determined the kind of work day she would have. She had selected both a skimpy black cheeky pair and a crimson hip-hugger style.

In the last two weeks she'd learned his preferences well. He liked black, red or pink - never white. He'd rejected every pair of 'granny panties' that she'd shown him, preferring thongs or V-strings or clinging cheeky styles. "Something with shape" as he said it.

She slowly pulled on the black pair, conscious of the way her breasts shook and wobbled as she bent over to slip her ankles into the underwear. She straightened and slowly turned to show him the view from the front, sides and the rear, then stood and waited on his direction.

You look absolutely delicious, kitten. Next one?

She quickly stripped off the black pair and pulled on the red one, taking care to ensure that it was fitting properly. She did another slow turn in front of the camera, then stood awaiting his choice.

She hoped he would choose one pair or the other. The day before, he had rejected both her selections and instead sent her to work bare-assed under a knee-length skirt. The extreme arousal and embarrassment she felt throughout the day had made a mess of her. But the mind-shattering orgasm he had given her that night had wiped out any resentment about the decision.

Oh, the red, definitely.

She beamed a wide smile at the webcam, happy that one of her two picks had pleased him and also relieved that she wouldn't be 'going commando' for a second straight day.

Thank you Sir. What about a bra?

Hmmmm. It would be a real shame to cover those beauties...

Sir! I can't go to work without a bra!

She figured he was just teasing, but she couldn't be one hundred percent sure. It was entirely within his power to send her to work bra-less. The thought scared and thrilled her. How had he gained such control?

Heh heh. Pick one that matches the panties, kitten.

She selected one from her dresser and modeled it for him with a slow turn, her hands behind her head. She was wet already, and not from the shower. Their morning ritual always left her warm with arousal - she enjoyed being the object of his lust.

Mmmm. Are you sure you have to go to work?

Unfortunately I do, Sir. Will I be in pants or a skirt today?

I'd like to see you in a dress.

She rolled her eyes and then gave a resigned look to the webcam. She had several skirts but few dresses. Despite that - or because of it - he was always eager to put her in a dress. "They're more feminine." was his often-stated opinion. More difficult to clean as well! She didn't truly mind the extra effort, though, if it pleased Robert.

I only have three dresses, Sir. The red bra and panties would probably show through my two white dresses. I've got a black one, although it's a little formal for work. Shall I show you?

Yes please.

She'd bought the black dress on a budget, hoping it would be suitable for both work and evening wear. It was clearly better suited for the latter. She put it on and modeled it in front of her laptop.

Wow.

She smiled and blushed. Although she would never admit it, she felt the dress made her look nice, if not pretty. It was a conservative cut, high at the neckline and low at the hemline. Appropriate for the office, if maybe a touch on the dressy side.

Is this okay, Sir?

Much, much better than okay kitten. It's very pretty on you.

I'm glad you're pleased, Sir. It's almost time for me to get this day started - was there anything else before I sign off?

One more thing. What city do you live in?

Toronto, Sir. Why do you ask?

She replied without considering what she was sharing, and it shocked her. A couple of weeks ago she would have agonized over sharing that kind of information with him. Was she growing to trust him? Or merely growing careless?

North, south, east or west part of the city?

Towards the west end, Sir.

Excellent - thanks for the information. I need it for the Third Gate this evening. I'm not stalking you.

Yes Sir. Thanks for reassuring me. I'm pretty nervous about the Third Gate as it is.

Me too. There's plenty at stake. But I have confidence that you'll do fine.

HE was nervous? Then why didn't he forget about these stupid Gates altogether? They were his idea, after all, and he was the only one insisting on them.

I've got to go or I'll miss the bus. Text me at work, Sir?

Guaranteed, kitten. Enjoy your morning.

****

Please tell me about the Third Gate, Sir.

Grey was in bed by 9:00, naked and sitting propped up against pillows. She was lightly stroking her nipples as instructed, using only the palms of her hands. The mild arousal was welcome; it served to take the edge off the fear she was feeling.

"Before we do that, I want to hear your feelings about the Second Gate." his voice was a gentle caress, calm and soothing. "What do you think about the webcam?"

She took a moment to think before responding.

My biggest fear was that you wouldn't like what you saw. But you seem to be okay with it, so I feel a lot better about that.

"I love the way you look, kitten. That fear was unfounded."

It was based on experience, Sir. No one else seems to appreciate my looks the way you do.

"Do you still feel any anxiety about the cam?"

No Sir. I know you like to have me on cam and I'm happy to be able to please you.

"So you're better off for passing the Second Gate?"

Much better off, Sir. I can please you more AND I get to hear your voice. I'm in LOVE with your voice.

"And I'm enjoying the lovely woman I see every morning and night, kitten."

Thank you, Sir.

"Are you ready for the Third Gate?"

I'm a little scared.

"Why?"

I guess I'm scared that you'll ask for something that I can't deliver on. I'd lose you.

"That would be awful for both of us." she could hear the truth in his voice.

Then why do we need to have these Gates? If you want me to do something you can always just ask me. I want to make you happy, Sir.

There was a long pause before she heard his voice again.

"It's important for you to go through each of the Twelve Gates, kitten. I know it doesn't make sense to you, and I'm sorry about that. I know you feel it's unreasonable and that it seems like I'm trying to force you to do things. But there are good reasons."

Grey didn't respond for several moments. It didn't make sense. It was unreasonable. And unfair. And stupid. And more than a little insulting.

But apparently it was the way things were going to be. The thought of Robert leaving her made it hurt inside. She was in love with an unreasonable man.

Please tell me about the Third Gate, Sir.

"Very well. The Third Gate is this: you and I will meet this Saturday, and spend the day together."

Grey was stunned. The man who hadn't even told her his full name wanted to meet? She was overjoyed and nervous and suddenly very unsure.

Where did you want to meet, Sir?

"At a Best Western in west Toronto. I'll email you the address. I figure we'll meet for breakfast in the hotel restaurant and then see where we go from there."

I didn't know you were from Toronto, Sir!

"I'm not. I'm from Calgary. I'm coming in for the day."

Just to have breakfast with me?

"To meet you. I get to know you a little better, and to introduce myself properly."

Grey could feel a giddy excitement building inside her and she struggled to think rationally. Weren't the Gates supposed to be scary? Surely, if he was coming all this way, he would want something in return for his trouble and expense. And she had a good idea what that 'something' would be.

But would that be so bad? Wasn't that what she wanted too? Hadn't she spent nights lying awake dreaming of it? She had trouble sorting through the crush of thoughts that piled into her brain.

Sir, this is such a shock! I don't know what to say.

"Say yes, kitten."

Yes, I will meet you, Sir. For breakfast.

"Excellent!" he sounded genuinely pleased, and the enthusiasm in his voice made Grey smile. "That's the Third Gate passed, then."

****

Grey took a deep breath to steady herself, then opened the door to the restaurant and stepped in.

It was 9am and the place was mostly full. That reassured her, at least. She scanned the tables, looking for the man in the Calgary Flames cap. But he had already seen her; by the time her eyes found him he was halfway to her.

He wasn't taller than average but he had a muscular build. Not a computer guy or an office worker. Maybe a cop? A fire fighter? He moved well and looked comfortable in his blue jeans and gray button-up shirt. As he drew close to her he flashed her a warm smile. His eyes were brown and warm and confident and intense all at once.

As he closed in on her she fought the urge to flee the restaurant. Only a sudden weakness in her knees prevented it.

"You look even better in the flesh, kitten." he said when he was close enough not to be overheard. He extended his hand.

"Uh...hi, Robert." she squeaked and reached out for the handshake.

Except it wasn't a handshake. His warm hand enveloped hers and held her gently. He stepped close to her.

"Now is that how you're supposed to be addressing me?"

And there was that voice! Teasing and warm and commanding and firm at the same time. The voice she'd savoured and craved. The voice she'd fallen in love with. Her fear began to lift.

"N-no, Sir. I'm sorry." she blushed pink and glanced to the left and right to see if her words has been overheard.

"I should have guessed you'd have a sweet voice, kitten. Maybe I can get you to share it with me more often?"

Her blush deepened, but the compliment drew out a shy smile.

"If you like, Sir."

He smiled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then guided her to their table. His hand never left hers. He seated her first, then took his own place.

She pretended to read the menu as she fought to make sense of things. After six weeks online, they were here, together! What was the right thing to say? He seemed so calm, and that only made her more flustered. Should she act the same way she did online? Was he imagining her naked as he sipped his coffee?

That thought brought the humiliating realization that he had dressed her early that morning on the webcam! He knew exactly what she was wearing under her white dress. She'd modeled it for him slowly and deliberately. She was sure that her blush was casting a red glow over the inside of the restaurant.

"What looks good, kitten?" he said, and she looked up to see a waitress looking at her expectantly. Robert wore an amused expression. A knowing expression.

She realized that she was still holding the menu and hadn't read a word. How much time had passed?

"Um...coffee and...toast?" she stammered.

He ordered for himself and the waitress collected the menus and left.

"Robert Renald Hamilton." he said with a tip of his cap.

She stared at him in surprise. After six weeks of near-total secrecy she hadn't expected such full disclosure from him during breakfast.

"Oh! Grey. Grey McMillan...Sir." She almost winced; she hadn't intended to use her full name. How did he do that to her? Something about him made it impossible to hide herself.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you like this." his eyes and smile were so warm and genuine that she found it hard to stay guarded. She smiled.

"For me too, Sir."

A part of her was amazed at how comfortable she was calling him 'Sir' in a public place.

"You probably have questions?"

"About you? Oh, yes."

"Part of the reason I came here was to answer them. Ask away, kitten."

She didn't need further prodding. Six weeks' worth of questions poured out of her and he answered them all with a disarming openness. She learned he was 39 years old and the owner of a moving company in Alberta and had a partnership stake in an up-and-coming chain of coffee shops in the prairies. He even gave her his business card! His parents were both alive and residing in Red Lake; he enjoyed football and hiking; he'd never been married but had been 'close to the brink' in his words.

Their breakfast came and she continued to pepper him with questions. When the waitress came to clear away the empty plates, she had finally run dry, temporarily. She realized that she'd monopolized the entire meal with her inquiries.

"Sorry for the non-stop questions, Sir."

"It's natural, kitten. I know I haven't shared much these first few weeks."

"So why start now?"

He paused and rested his hand over hers on the table.

"Online we can hide ourselves. But in person, it's important to be who we truly are."

The welcome warmth of his hand was making it difficult to think clearly.

"So I'm going to get the real you?"

"You'll find you've always had the real me."

Inexplicably, she believed him.

"So what do you want to do for the rest of the day, Sir?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hotel key card. He fixed her with his intense brown eyes.

"I'm going to have one more coffee, kitten. While I'm drinking it, I'd like you to go up to room 237. Go on inside and read the instructions I left for you on the bed. Then you can obey the instructions or you can ignore them and come back down. Either way, I'll see you in twenty minutes or so."

His directions were spoken in the same easy-but-firm voice she'd come to know so well. The tone that made her want to obey, that resonated within that deep part of her that longed to please him. His words were an invitation as much as a command.

But alone in a hotel room? With an almost-stranger, and a powerfully-built one at that? It could get very bad for her, very fast. Her rational mind tried to sound the alarm, to warn her away.

But in vain.

She hesitated for only a moment, then accepted the room key with a demure smile and stood up from the table. As the waitress re-filled Robert's mug, Grey made her way out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby, then started up the stairs to the second floor. Many of her questions about Robert had been answered, but she knew the biggest ones remained.



Twelve Gates Ch. 05



Author's note: I've been remiss in not thanking the people who have taken the time to comment on my story, to vote on it and to email me about it. Your words have been very encouraging. Thank you! Your comments will inform my future writing. Feel free to comment or email as the urge strikes you.

****

There was a 'do not disturb' sign on the door handle of room 237. Grey used the card key to unlock the door and push it open slowly. She peered into the room to make sure it was empty before stepping inside.

The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, neatly made up. On the bed, laid out very deliberately, was a pair of steel handcuffs, a leather blindfold and a greeting card with a picture of a red rose on a white background. Her heart raced as she stepped to the bed and picked up the card. The message inside was hand-written.

Greetings kitten. Please sit on the edge of the bed, put on the blindfold and cuff your wrists securely behind your back. I'll be up shortly. 

The text was followed by a small hand-drawn heart.

It was a long moment before she reached out and gingerly picked up the blindfold. It was contoured and one side was foam-padded. Twin leather ties with metal buckles would hold it in place securely. This was no flimsy sleeping mask.

Could she do this? Was this just too crazy? On the surface, it seemed like a very bad idea. Her rational mind screamed at her to leave. 

She'd eagerly submitted to Robert's wishes in the past, online, where she had a measure of control and choice. Blindfolded and handcuffed, her control would be gone. She'd be entirely in his hands and subject to his every whim and impulse. 

The idea filled her with cold terror. And a desperate longing.

She yearned for the feel of his warm hands on her skin. For his voice in her ear. For the press of his muscular body against her. To have him close to her, to lose herself in his gentle dominance. 

And for that to happen, she would have to follow his directions. It was a choice she'd made every day for the past six weeks. As she stared at the blindfold, she felt for the first time that maybe it hadn't been a choice at all. Maybe this is my true self? Maybe this is who I am?

Getting the mask on took a couple of tries but she soon managed to buckle it into place. The shape and the foam padding left her in complete blackness. She shook her head experimentally and was dismayed to discover how well the mask stayed in place. A little unnerved by how completely it robbed her of sight, she sat on the bed and took a moment to reconsider. Get out! Run! Time is running out! But even as her rational mind resisted, her hands were sliding over the surface of the bedsheet in search of the handcuffs.

The cold metal and the loud click-click-click-click sound as the cuff closed around her left wrist caused her to shiver in fear and anticipation. She secured her right wrist as well, then squirmed a little, trying to slide her wrists free. The cuffs held firm; her arms were pinned behind her

Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt the full impact of the risk she had taken. She was helpless. She was his.

For several minutes, Grey sat still on the edge of the bed, her ears sifting the silence for sounds of his arrival. When she heard the sound of a card key in the door, she held her breath. The door opened, she heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of shoes on carpet. There was a long pause, and she wondered what he was thinking.

"Stand up, kitten." 

She loved the calm firmness of his voice. It cut through some of the fear. She stood.

She felt his proximity as he stepped in close.

"I've wanted to do this for six weeks now."

The pressure of his lips against hers startled her and she instinctively tried to brace her hands against his chest. But those hands were locked behind her. He gently captured her chin between thumb and index finger to tilt her face upwards. His lips continued to explore hers, slowly savouring her taste for the first time.

He smelled like coffee and soap and shampoo. She found herself returning his kiss, raising up on her toes to increase the contact with his lips. 

Soon - too soon - he stepped back and released her chin. She stood helplessly, face upraised, lips parted slightly, her breathing rapid.

He was quiet for a long moment.

"If you want to leave at any time, just say 'stop'. I'll free you unharmed, walk you to the hotel entrance and pay for your cab ride home. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir." 

"What are you going to say if you want to leave?"

"I'll say 'stop', Sir."

"Good girl." There was another pause. "Kneel for me, kitten." 

The sudden command caused her to gasp and brought colour to her cheeks. Kneel? She hesitated just a moment before slowly lowering herself to one knee, then both. Keeping her balance was tricky with her hands bound behind her. 

When she was on her knees, she felt him standing over her, a powerful presence. There was no mistaking what this was, no way to pass it off as something else. She was kneeling at his feet. What does that make him? What does that make me?

"Move your knees further apart - as wide as you comfortably can. Straighten your back and push out your chest." his instructions were delivered in a patient, steady tone.

She obediently adjusted her posture. She tried to picture how she must look - knees wide under her flowing white dress, arms back, breasts proudly pushed forward, blushing, breathing open-mouthed. She felt wanton. A familiar warmth built between her legs.

"When I have you kneel, this is the position I want you in. Understood, kitten?"

"Yes Sir." her voice was a whisper.

He gently caressed her face with his palm. She pressed her cheek into his hand, loving the warmth of him. 

"How does it feel to kneel for me?" he asked.

It felt degrading...and liberating. It felt sexy and submissive and humiliating and arousing. It felt awkward and comfortable. It felt right. Is this who I am? How could I not have known?

"I...don't know." 

"Is it a good feeling or a bad one, kitten?"

"A good feeling, Sir. Maybe...very good."

"That makes me happy."

Then Grey became aware of another sensation quickly pushing itself to the fore.

"Um...Sir? I think I had too much coffee with breakfast."

"Pardon me?" He sounded amused.

"I...need to use the bathroom, Sir." she tried to phrase it as delicately as possible.

There was a brief pause. The urgency increased with every passing moment.

"And how will you accomplish that in your present state, kitten?" His voice was gently teasing.

"Maybe you could undo the handcuffs for a few minutes?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that. Unless you're saying 'stop'?"

"No Sir, I'm not saying that."

There was another silence. The need was becoming desperate.

"Perhaps if you ask very politely, I might agree to take you to the washroom."

She tried to force the words past her lips but her pride wouldn't allow it. A minute passed in silence. She briefly considered ending it with the word 'stop' but her submissive will, surprisingly stubborn, thwarted the effort. 

Her bladder cast the deciding vote.

"Would you please take me to the washroom, Sir?" 

The words mortified her and delighted her. Being bound and helpless gave license to the part of her that eagerly craved his warm, confident control. Speaking the words changed her. The rational part of her, the part that protected and imprisoned her, went silent. This is who I am.

She felt a strong hand slip under her arm, gently lifting. She stood and he led her carefully for several steps until the rough carpet changed to cool tile. He released her arm but didn't leave the bathroom. 

Was she supposed to struggle with her dress and panties, bound as she was? Could she manage the contortions necessary to use the commode?

No. She knew Robert; that wasn't what he wanted. With a shock, she realized it wasn't what she wanted, either.

"Sir, would you please take down my panties?" she spoke the words softly, and they brought embarrassment and lust in equal measure.

She heard him move, then his warm hands were on her ankles. Slowly they slid up the backs of her calves, then stroked her hamstrings. His touch heated her. He gave her cheeks a gentle squeeze and hooked his index fingers under the waistband of her lacy pink panties. 

Slowly, he drew them down her legs and lifted her ankles gently to remove them.

"These are very wet, kitten." he said. 

There was desire in his voice, concealed behind the teasing tone. She thrilled to the idea that she affected him as he affected her, that she could inflame him regardless of his intentions. There was power in that.

"You did that to me, Sir."

"And I'm just getting started."

And where would it end?

"Please Sir, would you move my dress out of the way and sit me?" she couldn't believe where this was heading, but felt helpless to stop it. Do I even want to stop it?

He carefully guided her as she sat, then tucked up her dress so her legs were bare. He surprised her by gently pushing her knees wider until her thighs were splayed obscenely. She could feel the air on her hungry slit and knew it was fully revealed to his eyes. She scented her juices. She was sure he did, too.

She felt him rise to stand over her. Again capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, he tilted her face up. She parted her lips, expecting a kiss. Instead, he gently stroked his thumb over her lips, caressing first the top then the bottom lip. 

"Sir, may I please go now? It's urgent." She was panting, resigned to what was about to occur, loving his touch and his attention.

"Do you need my permission, kitten?"

"Yes Sir, I do. Please?"

Her acknowledgment of his intimate control was spoken without hesitation or modesty. This is who I am. This is what I want.

"Then you may go."

His thumb slowly slid past her lips and into her mouth to the first knuckle, teasing her tongue. She allowed it access, then closed her lips over it and bathed it in wet heat.

With a loud hiss, her flow started. She moaned in humiliation and tongued the digit in her mouth. A flush suffused her face and chest. Her body trembled. A new, stronger scent filled the air and stripped away all that was left of her privacy, all of her dignity. 

Her submission to him was all-encompassing. 

Soon her bladder was empty, one urgent need satisfied. A second and much more desperate need consumed her.

She released his thumb and he stroked her blushing cheek with the back of his hand. She was breathing hard through her mouth. Her heart thumped wildly. She needed more, so much more.

"Sir...will you...please...dry me?" The words seemed to come from another place, from the lips of a different woman. 

She heard him tear off some tissue. Would she cum when he touched her? Would anything be more shameless? 

His gentle caress to her most private flesh drew out a loud, longing gasp. 

And then he was helping her to her feet and flushing the toilet. He gently lead her back onto the carpet of the main room.

"Kneel for me here, kitten." he said, and there was no mistaking the lust in his voice. 

She slowly lowered herself into the position he'd requested: knees wide, back straight, breasts presented to him boldly. As she widened her stance she felt a gentle rush of air between her legs and it reminded her that he'd claimed her panties and not returned them.

He slowly paced a circle around her prone body, then stopped behind her.

"So now what shall I do with you, kitten?"

"Anything, Sir." the words were out before she could think to stop them. She didn't care - they were true enough.

She felt him draw closer. His hot breath on her neck, his lips at her ear, his voice low.

"We don't need the handcuffs anymore, since you won't move your hands without permission. Correct?" 

"No Sir. Never."

His hands were behind her, releasing the cuffs. She kept her wrists pressed against her lower back.

"Stand."

She slowly rose, hands still behind her. He took her left wrist in his hand, gently massaging it then deliberately lowering it to her side. Her right wrist got the same treatment.

His fingers were at her neck, slipping under the neckline of the dress, finding the zipper there. He unzipped her slowly, down to her lower back. The dress came loose and he allowed it to slide off, down her body. She couldn't stop it without moving her hands so it ended up pooled at her ankles. She shivered, eager for more of his touch. 

Only her pink bra and the blindfold remained, and in moments the bra had joined her dress on the floor. He knelt behind her and cleared away her clothing, then stepped away from her.

"Turn for me, kitten. Very slowly."

Although she'd modeled many times for him over the webcam, the feeling was more intense, more intimate in the flesh. She spun in a slow circle, arms held at her sides where he'd placed them. She felt hot, ready. She could feel her nipples swell and harden, then gently throb. Her slit was soaked and the air caressed the wet outer lips as she moved.

"Stop." She felt his hands on her wrists, raising them and placing them palms-down on top of her head. "Very nice. Kneel for me now."

"Yes Sir." she knelt and assumed the proper posture. It felt so different to kneel naked; lewd and submissive and powerfully sexual. She embraced the sensations, feeling beautiful and desirable.

She heard him slowly circle her; felt his eyes on her from every angle, seeing her in a way that no one had ever seen her. Savouring the look of her. 

"Ok, stand for me, kitten." 

She stood and he led her to the bed. Soon she was on her back, hands still on her head, her body ready and available and craving his touch. She was long past any fear of Robert; her fear had drowned in wave after wave of arousal. She wanted - needed - him inside her. 

"Legs wide, my pet."

She parted them shoulder width, then impulsively spread them as wide as they would go. Let him see me. Let him see how I want him. Let him take what belongs to him. She quivered in anticipation of his cock. 

She heard him in the washroom. Water running in the sink. Rummaging around in a bag. She hoped he was preparing a condom, but knew she'd accept his cock any way he decided. He approached and she tried to spread wider, wondering if he'd enter her roughly or gently...

A dripping heat suddenly covered her slit. She gasped and lifted her hips, seeking more of the sensation. Not his skin...a washcloth, wet and almost too hot. He left it in place for half a minute then removed it. Almost immediately she felt his hands on her mound, smearing a slippery wetness there and down the sides of her slit. The sensations brought her near the edge.

"Lie very still, kitten." he growled in a voice thick with lust.

She felt pressure at the top of her mound which slowly traveled lower, to the top of her slit. A moment later it repeated. 

He was shaving her. His hands were steady, his movements deliberate. She tried to stay still as she burned with lust, feeling his hot hands on her secret flesh, his breath on her thighs, his fingers so close to the pink, swollen clit that begged for attention. He had her grab her ankles and pull them back so he could get the few hairs around her virgin rear hole. When he was done with the razor, the washcloth returned, hot and welcome, wiping away any residue.

"Give me your right hand."

He took her hand in his and lowered it to her slit, sliding her fingers over the silk-smooth and impossibly sensitized skin.

"How does that feel?"

"So good Sir. So smooth. Thank you."

"You're going to keep it this way from now on, kitten?"

"Yes Sir, if that's what you like." Anything you desire.

"Hands behind your head again, kitten. Keep those legs wide."

"Yes Sir. I want you so bad. Please hurry!" Take me. Fill me. Claim me as your own.

She felt hot, slippery contact directly on her engorged clitoris and it forced a cry of pleasure from deep in her chest. A climax slammed into her so quickly, so violently that she couldn't think to wait for his command - she stiffened and spasmed as he gently licked her. It lasted so long that she wasn't sure if it was one or several in a row. 

Finally too sensitive to endure his tongue any further, she pleaded for him to stop. With one final taste, he relented.

****

Satisfied and sleepy, she reclined on the bed with her bare back against his chest. He'd removed her blindfold, leaving her truly naked while he was fully clothed. His arms were around her, gently stroking her breasts and spreading warmth all through her. She felt utterly content, exhausted and loved.

"Sir, you didn't get off?" she said, and felt a sudden pang of fear that she'd failed him in some way. Why hadn't he entered her?

"I didn't come here to get off, kitten." His stroking moved lower. She loved the feel of his hot hands on her belly.

"Do you want me to...do it for you?"

"It?"

Post-orgasm, her natural shyness had returned. 

"You know. With my mouth?" 

Having said the words, she suddenly wished to taste him. She closed her eyes and imagined the feel of him.

"I didn't come here for that."

"Why did you come here if not for...that?"

He pinched her nipple gently.

"For you. For the Third Gate. For us, kitten."

Us. She loved the way that sounded.

"Thank you, Robert, really. This has been the best day of my life."

"That's true for both of us, then."

"When do you head back?" It filled her with joy to know that he'd traveled so far just for her.

"My flight leaves at 4." 

"What do you want to do until then?"

"Shop. You need more dresses - you're done with pants from now on. And we'll get you some panties too - sexy, skimpy ones!"

She giggled and he planted a kiss on her ear. The pleasures of the Third Gate had left her eager for the Fourth.



Twelve Gates Ch. 06



Author's note: Many thanks, again, for the uplifting comments I've received. This is my first real writing effort and I'm pleased that it's being enjoyed by so many.

***

It was with a mixture of joy and trepidation that Grey met Robert at the Toronto airport.

Her heart cheered when she saw him come through the gates. He looked strong and handsome and perfectly at home in jeans, a sweatshirt and black running shoes. The warm smile that broke across his face when he saw her triggered an excited tingling inside her. Well worth the cab ride to the airport!

His brown eyes gave no hint of displeasure as he drew close, dropped his carry-on and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Twin flashes of pain erupted in her chest, and she yelped even as she returned the hug enthusiastically.

He released her but caught her left hand in his right. His expression was apologetic.

"Sorry about that, kitten - I was so excited to see you I forgot about your new piercings. I guess I don't need to ask how they feel?"

"Very tender, Sir. Any kind of contact is painful. But I'll take one of those hugs anytime." 

He squeezed her hand gently in response. His eyes scanned the signage in the terminal, then returned to pass over her slowly.

"And you look good enough to eat in that dress!"

She felt her cheeks flush at the suggestive compliment. He hadn't dressed her that morning due to his early flight - the first time in weeks that she'd chosen her own clothes. As she'd pondered her choices she found that she missed his guidance, his control. When he chose her clothes it was a sexy and welcome start to the day. Without him, dressing was a dull chore.

"Thank you, Sir. The hemline is a little higher than I usually wear. What do you think?" In truth the hemline on the yellow dress was a lot higher then she was used to - a good five inches above the knee, and the material was thin and allowed a lot of movement in even a gentle breeze. It was barely decent.

"I couldn't have chosen better myself. I like you showing a little leg!"

A little leg?

"I'm so glad you're happy with it, Sir."

"Very much, kitten." He paused. "I've rented a car for the week. This way." he hoisted his luggage and led the way to the rental counter.

Several minutes later she was beside him in a black Charger as he carefully navigated the tangle of roads and merges around the airport, heading for open highway. She stole secret glances at him, trying to read his expression. He looked relaxed and happy and unpreoccupied. Nothing suggesting that he was unhappy with her. Maybe she'd mis-read the signs?

They finally hit Highway 401 and the Charger had them flying along at 110 in the right lane. Traffic in the late morning on Saturday wasn't bad; at least the transport trucks were off the road.

"So let's see them, kitten." he said, breaking a too-lengthy silence.

It took her a moment to realize that there was only one 'them' that he could be referring to.

"Right here, Sir?" 

"Should I stop on the shoulder of the road first?" the tease in his voice brought a smile despite her anxiety at his request.

"No Sir." 

There seemed to be no subtle way to do it. She unzipped the dress down the side to loosen it and wriggled her shoulders and arms out, leaving it bunched around her waist. The cool air brushed her skin and made her feel exposed and vulnerable. She pushed the shoulder strap of the seat belt out of the way. Very gingerly she slid her fingers under the bottom of her soft sports bra - the only bra her sore nipples could bear - then glanced out the windows nervously. With a deep breath for courage she pulled the bra away from her chest and then up, baring her breasts completely.

He didn't look immediately, focused on the road, pulling out and passing a slower sedan. She could do nothing but continue to expose herself to him and to the surrounding traffic.

Finally he hit a clear stretch of road and glanced to his right. His eyes took on a heated intensity; the sight of her bare tits - each with a new surgical steel barbell through the nipple - clearly aroused his interest. 

His focus snapped back to the road. She continued to hold her bra out of the way, waiting until he bid her to dress again. 

"I think they look sexy, kitten. Swollen and sore, but sexy."

"Thank you Sir."


"What do you think of them?"

"They hurt. But every time I see them I think of you, so I love them." 

"So that's the Fourth Gate passed, then."

"Thank you Sir." 

"Make sure you take care of them. I don't want any infection."

"Me neither, Sir. I'll be very careful."

"Good girl. You can dress again."

Relieved, she delicately lowered the bra into place and struggled back into her dress. Another silence stretched into long minutes. Her anxiety increased to the point where she couldn't ignore it anymore. She had to know.

"Sir, may I ask a question?"

"Always. What's on your mind?"

"Did I do something wrong? Are you displeased with me?"

"What? Why do you say that, kitten? Because of the piercings?"

"No Sir, I know those were for the Fourth Gate."

"Then why?"

She hesitated, trying to find words that wouldn't be too embarrassing.

"You haven't let me...get off...in a long time. Am I being disciplined for something I did wrong?"

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" his voice was gentle, with no trace of upset - or apology.

"Ten days, Sir."

"And you're starting to feel it, are you?"

"Sir, I was feeling it the first day! It's almost all I can think of!" 

It was true; she spent her days and nights in near-constant arousal. She posed for him naked in the morning, received hot, teasing texts from him during the day and spent their nightly chats stroking and soaking. But no amount of begging or pleading had brought permission for a climax.

"I'm completely and totally satisfied with you, kitten."

"Then why haven't you allowed it?"

"It?"

She breathed a resigned sigh and felt her face colour.

"Why won't you allow me to cum, Sir?"

"You can cum, kitten - but not by your own hand. From now on, all your orgasms will come from me."

"So I have to wait for you to visit whenever I want to cum?"

"Yup. Or you can visit me."

"But...that could be weeks!" 

"Weeks? We can visit every day."

She felt a growing urge to strangle him. He was deliberately baiting her.

"You live in Calgary, Sir. We can't visit every day."

There was a long silence. He wore a smug expression; hers was increasingly dark.

"As of about an hour ago I became a resident of the City of Toronto, kitten."

"What?"

"I'm staying. I arrived on a one-way ticket."

"But..." her thoughts were a blur. 

"Unless you don't want me here, of course. I suppose I could turn the car around and go back to the airport..."

"No! I want you to stay! I'd love you to stay. But what about your moving company?"

"I'll still run it remotely. I've got good people; the business almost manages itself."

"What about the coffee shops?"

"I figured it's time to test the waters in Toronto, see if there's a market here. There are many opportunities here that interest me." he cast her a meaningful look.

"But where will you stay?"

"I've got a fully-furnished apartment waiting for me downtown, conveniently located near the offices of Stern, Franken and Fitch." His smug expression became even more so. "Say, don't you know someone who works there?"

She'd told him, of course. After all they'd shared it seemed silly to be secretive about her place of work. 

She stared at him and felt she would burst with happiness. Not only wasn't he upset with her, he was staying!

***

"This is your key, kitten. Don't lose it." 

He handed her one of the two keys the landlady had given them after showing them around the apartment. The place wasn't spacious but was furnished and equipped with all the amenities. The view from the 8th floor apartment was of the highway - not exactly scenic, but at least the noise wasn't too bad and he had his own parking space.

There were two large shipping boxes along the wall of the living room - Robert had shipped his essentials from Calgary. She'd never known anyone who had their act together quite the way he did.

"You're giving me a key, Sir?" she looked at the key, surprised at the gesture.

"Sure. You're free to come by any time. Treat the place like your own."

She accepted the key, touched by his trust and generosity.

"Thank you, Sir. I'd never drop by without calling first." she assured him.

"Call or don't; you're always welcome here."

"Thank you Sir."

"However, there are some rules you'll need to follow whenever you come over." he said. She detected a mischievious tone in his words.

"Rules?"

He stepped in close. She stood her ground and tipped her face up, hoping for a kiss. Her time with him at the hotel seemed so long ago and the last ten days had made her especially needy.

"Rules. For example, there will be a dress code, and I'm afraid that you're in violation, kitten."

He gently hooked his fingers into the sleeve of the dress and drew down the zipper. She felt the dress go slack around her body, then fall away, leaving her in the white sports bra and a bright yellow g-string that he'd bought the last time he'd come down. She'd protested that a g-string looked silly on a woman as 'full-figured' as herself but he'd waved off her concerns and bought five of them.

Her sudden exposure raised goosebumps on her skin, but she didn't shy away. She had learned that whatever he wanted was his. And she desperately wanted it, too.

"Is this...more acceptable, Sir?" she asked in a breathless whisper, unable to prevent a blush. 

"Hmmm. We're getting there."

He very gently slid his fingers under the bottom of her bra and eased it up, careful to avoid her piercings. She raised her arms to allow him to slide it off. Her abused nipples ached as arousal engorged them. 

He slowly knelt in front of her and drew down her g-string, not stopping until it was all the way off. He remained kneeling.

"Give me your right hand, kitten."

He took her hand and touched it to her mound. She felt spiky stubble and it caused a chill of fear. How could she have forgotten?

"What did we agree about this beautiful pussy?" he asked in an even, firm voice.

"I'm supposed to keep it smooth, Sir." 

"Does it feel smooth, kitten?"

"No Sir." 

"How many days has it been since you shaved it?"

"Four, Sir."

He stood and captured her eyes with his own. His expression was serious but not unkind. She knew she'd messed up.

"Something you'd like to say, kitten?"

She suddenly felt nervous and ashamed, like a schoolgirl who'd been sent to the principal's office. She dropped her gaze.

"I...was unhappy that you weren't allowing me to cum and I was nervous about the Fourth Gate and maybe...I started to feel a little resentful, Sir."

"You figured if I wasn't giving you what you wanted then you'd retaliate in kind, is that it?" 

"Something like that, Sir." She felt awful that she'd let him down. Standing here in front of him her grievances sounded so petty. Why had she behaved so petulantly?

"And is that the way things work between us, kitten?"

"No Sir."

"How do things work here?"


She took a few moments to arrange her words. He'd never confronted her this way about her behaviour, and she could feel the crushing weight of his disapproval. She was worried that she'd start to cry. 

"When you say something, I follow your directions, Sir."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to be happy."

"Is that the Complete Truth, kitten? Am I the only one who's happy with that arrangement?" 

Her misery grew. She knew he insisted on Complete Truth and she'd told only a partial one. Things were going from bad to worse.

"No Sir. The Complete Truth is it makes me happy to follow your directions, too." 

He tipped her chin up to look into his eyes once again. His voice was serious but his eyes were warm.

"I care deeply for you Grey, but I'm not going to accept bad behaviour. Is that clear?"

His use of her real name shocked her, made his words more real. She started to tremble. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.

"Yes Sir. Totally clear."

There was a long pause as he regarded her evenly.

"Shall I discipline you now, or do you need to go home and give it some thought?"

She couldn't bear the thought of leaving while this was hanging over her. Even the idea of being away from him hurt.

"Please Sir, do it now."

"It?"

She took a deep breath, fighting tears.

"Would you please discipline me now, Sir? Please don't send me home."

He took her gently by the upper arm, his hand warm and reassuring against her naked skin. He carefully guided her to an unoccupied corner of the room. He tapped his finger in the corner.

"I want your nose right here, kitten."

She pressed into the corner as he had directed. He took a step back.

"Wrists crossed at the small of your back, please."

She adjusted her position.

"I want you to take some time to think about why you're being disciplined, and to consider how you might have expressed your displeasure more constructively. Understand, kitten?"

"Yes Sir." The tears finally came and she wept quietly as she stood naked in the corner.

The minutes passed and her tears slowly ceased. She could hear the shower running. If I'd shaved properly I'd be in there with him. The thought was a bitter one. The shower stopped and she could hear him freshening up in the washroom, opening the boxes in the living room, dressing. 

"Come here, kitten." his voice was gentle but there was no denying the power in it.

She turned and saw him sitting on a loveseat in the living room, hair damp, wearing track pants and a gray t-shirt. She walked over, hands still crossed behind her back, very conscious of her nakedness. She stood on the carpet in front of him, unable to meet his eyes.

"Kneel for me."

She lowered herself to her knees, then spread them, straightened her back and thrust her newly-decorated tits forward boldly. She was determined to show him that she still remembered his lessons from their last meeting.

"Why are you being disciplined?"

"I didn't shave, Sir."

"That isn't it. Try again, kitten."

She took a few moments to think and the right answer came to her.

"I'm being disciplined because I agreed to keep myself smooth and I didn't do it."

"That's right. You're being disciplined for breaking your word. That's a serious problem. If I can't trust your word or you can't trust mine, this relationship isn't going to go very far, is it?"

"No Sir."

"If you were unhappy with me, what would have been a better way to express it?"

"I should have said something to you to let you know how I felt."

"Good answer." He leaned forward and stroked her cheek with his palm, and that gentle touch started the tears again.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Please forgive me?" How could she feel so desolate when he hadn't even raised his voice?

"I forgive you completely and absolutely." he said with conviction, "but you're still going to get a spanking."

She looked up at him through teary eyes.

"A spanking, Sir?" the words caused her to flush. She felt a tingle of arousal between her legs at the thought of his warm hand on her naked bum.

"I'm going to smack your rear until it's good and red, kitten. Then you're going back to the corner so the lesson has a chance to sink in."

"If...if that's what you decide, then I'll accept it, Sir."

He stood and walked to the small kitchenette, returning with a bar stool. He placed it in the middle of the living room. 

"I want you bent over with your elbows on the seat of this stool. Feet shoulder-width apart." There was no mistaking the command in his voice. She hurried to get into position. 

He walked around her in a slow circle.

"There's to be no yelling or thrashing around; you're not a child. I expect each spank to be counted out loud and then acknowledged with a 'thank you'. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir, very clear. How many will I get?"

"I'll worry about that. You worry about taking each one properly."

"Yes Sir."

"And kitten - this will hurt. At any point if you decide it's not worth it, you can get dressed and go home to think about it. Got it?"

Grey couldn't imagine the kind of pain that would outweigh her desire to be there with Robert. The pain of leaving him would be greater than anything he could inflict.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sir."

He walked around behind her. She felt his hot hand stroking her cheeks...

SMACK

The noise startled her; the stinging pain came shortly after. It did hurt!

"One. Thank you Sir."

SMACK

"Two. Thank you Sir."

He spread his painful attention between both cheeks, aiming at the fleshiest part each time. Every so often he would change the timing of the blows, preventing her from tensing up for each one. The humiliation at having to count and thank each one stung almost as much as the blows themselves.

SMACK

"Fifteen. Thank you Sir."

By the twentieth blow, her tears were flowing freely. Her ass felt hot and sore and swollen. Each spank rained like fire against her naked skin.

SMACK

"Th-thirty. Thank...you...Sir."

And then it was done. The spanking ended just as it was becoming unbearable. Grey remained bent over and sobbed quietly. You're not a child. His voice echoed in her mind.

He allowed her a few moments to cry, then carefully helped her into a standing position. He wrapped his arms around her from behind - avoiding her nipples - and drew her into a tight embrace. She clung to his forearms and wept and sniffed and savoured his closeness and his strength. Somehow, deep inside, she knew that things had been made right again. 

When he led her to the corner she didn't need to be instructed but obediently assumed the posture he expected. The burning pain of the spanking slowly faded to a throbbing heat that seemed to spread through her core. With astonishment, she realized her pussy was swollen and probably drenched. Was his control so complete that even his discipline inflamed her?

She could hear him moving in the living room, emptying the boxes and putting away his clothes. She ached to help him; to be a part of moving him into his new quarters. To be excluded from the moments of his life was a punishment in itself.

Many minutes later, he called her to the loveseat again. She assumed the proper kneeling position automatically. It was hard to meet his eyes.

"What's the very first thing you're going to do when you go home, kitten?" His voice was gentle and warm and kind. The teasing inflection had returned and she almost smiled in relief.

"Shave, Sir."

"You're going to be nice and smooth from now on?"

"Oh yes, Sir. Always. Perfectly smooth"

"And if you're unhappy with the way I'm treating you?"

"I'll say something. I won't ever break my word to you again - promise!"

"Then the discipline is over, kitten." 

He leaned forward, lifted her chin and tasted her lips. She kissed back, enjoying his hungry lips and the soapy scent of his just-washed body and the heat of his hand against her jaw. After almost two minutes of nonstop contact, she pulled back.

"May I ask something, Sir?" her voice was low and steeped in lust.

"Always."

"Could I please...do it to you...with my mouth? I've wanted to ever since last time."

His eyes registered surprise, then desire. He stood up and undid the drawstring on his track pants. Her hands were already at his waistband, lowering it and exposing his cock.

She'd only seen one other penis and was no expert on size, but his looked perfect; thick and hard and pointing urgently upward. Still on her knees, she leaned in and kissed the shaft experimentally, drawing an appreciative deep groan from him. His scent was different here - still soapy but also musky and sweet and unmistakably male. 




Twelve Gates Ch. 06



She touched her tongue to the base of his shaft, then gave a long, slow, wet lick up to the tip. His cock twitched and jerked as she repeated the motion again. And again. 

"God, kitten, you're killing me." he growled, but stood still and let her have her way.

She continued until his whole cock was fully erect and glistening with her saliva. She hesitated, not sure how to continue. She knew from what little porn she had seen that at some point he should be thrusting it roughly into her throat, but didn't know how to get to that point. 

"Tell me how you like it best." she whispered to him, punctuating the question with another slow lick.

"Ah...my balls. Lick my balls."

She changed her angle and ran her hot tongue over his tight scrotum. The coarse hair tickled her nose as she heard his loud moan. She felt a response in her own body as she reached full arousal. She licked again and again, each one slow and heated.

"I NEED to be inside your mouth now." There was a desperate edge to his voice, and she knew he was losing control. She very much wanted to see that, very much wanted to be the one responsible for it.

She repositioned again and slid his cock past her lips and deep into her mouth. He tasted good, and his cock felt hot against her tongue. She pulled back and then slid it back in again.

"Oh, just like that. JUST like that..." he breathed.

After a few more strokes she realized he wasn't going to ram it into her throat like they did in the movies, so she started sucking faster and a little deeper each time. His sounds told her the effort was well-received. She tried to take his whole cock but the last couple of inches made her gag so she focused on speed rather than depth.

Her head bobbed up and down eagerly for a minute until she felt his hands in her hair, gripping gently but firmly. He started to control the depth and speed of the penetration, thrusting eagerly but never too deeply. His cock seemed to swell with each stroke.

"Uh! Cumming!" he roared.

He thrust his cock most of the way into her hot mouth and she felt a new heat; a new taste. It bathed her tongue and she swallowed reflexively. His thrusting had stopped but her lips felt his cock twitch and spasm. She swallowed again. The taste was odd but since it was his taste, she loved it.

Finally spent, he slowly withdrew and fell back onto the loveseat, gasping for breath. She shuffled forward until she was between his knees, then fell forward and wrapped him up in a tight hug of her own. Her nipples were in agony from the contact and pressure but she didn't care; she buried her face in his chest and held him tightly for long, blissful minutes. She could still taste him, still scent him. His moans still echoed in her memory. She had taken a part of him for herself. 

"You still haven't cum." he said, having recovered his breath.

"I didn't come here to get off." she replied, feeding him the line he'd used on her at the hotel in their first meeting.

"Smart ass."

"Thank you, Sir." She snuggled into his chest again, horny but content. Whatever the future with Robert held, she felt ready.



Twelve Gates Ch. 07



Grey used her key to unlock the door to Robert's apartment and let herself in. She closed the door behind her and hung her purse from the door handle, then slipped off her open-toed heels, enjoying the cool tile against her bare feet. 

Reaching behind her, she unzipped her pale blue dress and gracefully slipped out of it. There were hangers in his closet set aside for her clothes; he preferred her to be nude in his apartment except under rare circumstances. Even without that rule, she wanted to be naked for their first meeting each day, to see the need in his brown eyes as his gaze traveled slowly over her body. Even the thought of it made her wet.

The padded white bra was next. The padding was necessary to hide the outline of her barbell nipple piercings and to protect them as they continued to heal. After two weeks, her nipples no longer throbbed all day long but were tender to the touch. They thickened and hardened as the bra came off, eager to be stroked despite the soreness.

The blue, barely-there g-string was stripped off and it joined the bra on a second hanger in the closet. She lowered her hand and ran her fingertips over her mound and the outside of her slit, checking for any stubble she might have missed the previous night in the shower. But her shaving job had been perfect, as she had promised him after he'd spanked her for forgetting.

She took a moment to savour the sexy, uninhibited feeling of being naked in his apartment. 

There was no sign of Robert but that wasn't unusual - he was an early riser and often did morning workouts in the gym in the basement of the apartment building. 

Grey stepped to the kitchenette and busied herself with the coffee - grinding the beans as he had shown her and getting the coffee brewing. As part-owner of a chain of coffee shops, Robert was a man who took his coffee seriously!

As the coffee brewed she quickly washed a couple of dirty dishes that he'd left on the counter and checked the fridge to make sure he wasn't running low on cream, milk or eggs. She could always stop at the mini-grocer on the corner during her lunch hour if he needed more of anything. It made her feel good to help him out in ways he didn't ask or expect.

After another quick check that the counters were tidy, she found 'her spot' on the carpet just outside the tiled doorway. She knelt with her knees wide, taking a few moments to settle into the posture that was now both familiar and oddly comforting. She straightened her back and crossed her wrists behind her. 

Naked and in position at last, she closed her eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. The solitude of the empty apartment allowed the thought of Robert's impending return to become her sole focus. She felt the stress of the early-morning commute fade, and the anxiety of the upcoming day at work slowly retreat. All that mattered was that she was there, in his place, for him. 

It might have been five minutes before she heard his key in the door and opened her eyes. She thrust her breasts out eagerly, wanting his first look at her to be the best she could give him.

The door swung open and he stepped into the apartment. His attention immediately came to rest on her prone body and his eyes reflected warmth and happiness, but most of all a naked, masculine hunger. She thrilled to that look and to the certainty that she was the cause of it. Never before in her 29 years had a man looked at her with eyes like that; she'd developed a strong craving for it during the last few weeks. She was a different woman when he was near her.

He kicked off his sandals and stepped forward to stand over her. She felt his presence - powerful, reassuring and safe. It made her tingle to have him so close. Without a word he loosened the drawstring of his athletic shorts and slowly drew them down along with his briefs. 

His beautiful cock was already semi-hard and she was close enough to scent it - sweat from his workout mixed with his familiar, sweet musk. Her heart beat faster and she licked her lips to wet them. She looked up at his face and they exchanged ravenous glances. She broke first.

"Please Sir?" 

His eyes were intense. He nodded his assent. 

She quickly leaned forward and took him in her mouth, running her tongue over his cock and enjoying the salty taste of him. He quickly swelled to full erection in her mouth. She'd tasted his cock frequently since he'd moved to Toronto and she knew exactly how he liked her tongue and her lips. She had only just started drawing out his gasps and groans when he stepped back, leaving her empty and unfulfilled.

"Oh, just a little longer?" she blushed as the words left her, humiliated by her exposed craving. Her need for him made notions of pride or propriety irrelevant. How had she reached this point in only a few weeks? 

He pulled his shorts up and dropped into a crouch in front of her. He held her eyes with his own as his right hand found its way between her thighs. She widened her stance to give him better access, then gasped as his fingers found her dripping slit and began to tickle and caress the slippery, sensitive folds. At the same time, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her lips.

Her breathing turned to moaning as his fingers found her clit and made it their focus. His other hand went to her breast and he gently flicked his index finger against the pierced nipple, causing sharp pricks of pain that drove her arousal higher. She was close to begging for her climax when he broke contact and stood up.

"Open." he commanded She opened her mouth, ready for what was coming.

He slid the index and middle fingers of his right hand past her lips. They were slick and salty and the scent of her juices on them was strong. She eagerly licked and sucked, cleaning them, wishing they were his cock instead. The taste of her own juices had become familiar in the last two weeks.

He left her there immersed in heat and lust and he walked to the kitchenette. His incredible control - of her body and his own - continued to amaze and torment her. 

He poured and mixed his coffee and hers and carried both mugs to the living room. He sat on the loveseat with his coffee and set hers down on a side table. Her hungry eyes followed him.

"Come and drink your coffee, kitten." 

She rose and walked the few steps to the living room and sat on the carpet in front of the loveseat. He reached out and teased the side of her neck with a warm hand. She stroked his bare legs as she sipped her drink.

"I'll tell you about the Fifth Gate at supper tonight." he said. 

For the last two weeks she'd eaten all her meals with Robert. She left home extra early in the morning to meet him for breakfast, rushed the two blocks from work to his apartment during her lunch hour and again after work to eat dinner with him. Grandmother needed her home by 7:30 to help with bedtime preparations so staying the night wasn't an option, but at least Robert had continued their evening chats online. 

"I can't wait, Sir." 

"You've sure changed your tone about the Gates."

"Because I already know that I'll agree to anything you ask. The fear is gone."

"I appreciate your devotion, kitten. I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"Why not give me all the Gates tonight? Just name them one after the other and we can get them checked off the list?"

"One Gate every two weeks." 

"Yes Sir." she smiled, having known the answer before she asked the question. It was one of the things she loved about Robert; always reliable, always consistent.

They chatted about the day in front of them and Robert refilled their coffee and made her some toast. Too soon it was time for her to leave for work. His eyes were on her as she dressed by the front door.

"Anything else before I go, Sir?"

He stepped in close and gave her a deep kiss. His fingers found their way under the hem of her dress and stroked her pussy through the scant material of the g-string. In less than a minute she was again hot and wet and wanting.

"Think of me, kitten." he whispered into he ear.

She knew there was no doubt.

***

The tantalizing smell of grilled beef welcomed her as she let herself into the the apartment after work. Robert, barefoot in his jeans and a black t-shirt, stood over the stove stirring a small pot. The counters were littered with cooking utensils and ingredients.

"Smells great, Sir. Can I help with anything?" She wriggled out of the dress.

"I think we're all under control here. It should be on the plate in twenty minutes. You've had a long day - why not grab a shower or put your feet up for a while?"

"A shower would be heaven, Sir. Thank you."

Naked, she came up behind him and embraced him from behind, loving the contours of his back and chest. He stepped back from the stove and spun to deliver a soft kiss. His fingers wandered down her bare back and gripped her ass cheeks hard, possessively. She purred in appreciation as she returned the kiss and leaned into him.

"And this is why I need a shower - you made me messy today, Sir." She took his right hand and placed it against her slit. His fingers quickly parted the lips and found her wet. The feel of his thick fingers inside her was a welcome delight.

"I refuse to apologize." he growled.

"It wasn't a complaint."

With a sweet kiss on her forehead, he turned back to the stove. She reluctantly left him to his cooking and went into the washroom, leaving the door open as she was supposed to. She sat on the commode and spread her knees wide, feeling even more exposed. Her scent was obvious and strong. The indiscreet noise as she emptied her bladder embarrassed her - even after two weeks she hadn't become accustomed to this particular loss of privacy. But he'd been clear in his expectations - in his apartment, she hid nothing from him.

The hot shower felt wonderful after a stressful day. He'd stocked the shower with her favourite body wash, shampoo and conditioner and she rinsed away the trials of the office. Out of habit she ran her fingers over her pussy, and decided to do a quick clean-up to remove the stubble. There wasn't much after less than a day, but she wanted her skin to be silky for his fingers. Or, better, for his tongue. She grabbed her razor off a ledge and made short work of it.

Ten minutes later she emerged from the bathroom damp and soft and fresh. 

Robert met her outside the bathroom door. In one hand he held the blindfold, in the other, the handcuffs.

She felt a surge of arousal on seeing the toys, thrilled by what they represented. She knew from her experience at the hotel that to be obedient was one thing, but to actually be helpless was an entirely different feeling. 

She stood still as he buckled the padded blindfold in place, completely sealing off her sight. Then his hand was on her arm, turning her away from him. She submissively crossed her wrists behind her and allowed them to be locked into the cold metal cuffs. Completely at his disposal now, entirely subject to his will and whim, she shivered with excitement. Suddenly dinner was forgotten; the ache between her thighs proved a more urgent hunger.

He led her the few steps to the living room. She knew the layout of the apartment perfectly by now; she was facing the loveseat. He was behind her, his breath on her neck. She felt his teeth, nipping first her earlobe, then the junction of her neck and shoulder. Delighted shudders ran down her spine.

"Kneel, kitten." 

His hand was under her arm, steadying her as she dropped gracefully to her knees and parted them widely, feeling the moisture on the outside of her labia as the air caressed it. She was hot; the blindfold and cuffs served to amplify her lust but also to imprison it until he chose to set it free.

She felt him leave her and then return. He carried with him the scent of food now. How could he think of supper as she knelt before him, willing and wanting? He heard him settle into the loveseat in front of her. 

"Move in a little closer to my legs kitten." he directed and she shuffled forward to comply. "I'm going to eat now, and I've got plenty for you as well, if you want it. While I'm eating, if I see your mouth open, it means you want to be fed. If I see it closed, it means you don't want more. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir." food wasn't what she wanted most at that moment, but she could only play his game. She parted her lips slightly.

"Wider than that. All the way open, kitten."

She complied, opening wide, blushing at the picture she knew she presented; helpless, naked, kneeling and spread, mouth gaping in a clear invitation.

A few moments passed before she felt his fingers in her mouth. She closed her lips over them, tasting beef and gravy. She sucked his fingers as they withdrew, leaving a morsel of beef for her to chew and swallow. The taste reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunch, and suddenly she was hungry at both ends.

Almost a minute passed in silence. She heard the sound of his fork on the plate as he ate.

"Finished already, kitten?" he teased.

She remembered his directions and opened her mouth wide. 

"Much better. How about a potato this time?"

She leaned forward slightly in anticipation only to be gently reprimanded.

"Don't lunge for the food. Keep your position and wait for me to feed you." 

She straightened her posture and he slid the potato into her waiting mouth. Again she managed to catch his fingers with her lips as he withdrew. The food was as tasty as the cook. She remembered to open wide this time and she held the pose for several seconds before his fingers returned with another slice of beef.

After several repetitions she got the hang of it, quickly gaping her mouth after each swallow, eager not only for the food but for the sensual contact with his fingers. Her arousal was a steady throb in her sex.

Sharing the same food felt so intimate. Waiting to be fed and signaling her hunger with a wide-open mouth embarrassed her; reinforced her helpless position at his feet. His intimate control fed the growing submissive streak in her; she longed to be entirely in his hands.

She felt his warm hand under her jaw, lifting and cradling it, then a cool liquid slowly poured into her mouth. She grimaced; it was bitter and fizzy and cold. Grey had never enjoyed beer but in her current position she had no voice to complain. She swallowed once, then twice.

"Let's have your tongue out now." he said in a low voice.

Mouth wide, she stuck her tongue out as far as it would go. 

She felt his finger against her tongue, gently caressing the tip and then gliding over the side, then back again. Caressing her top lip. Teasing her, making her wait and want. At last he eased a chunk of carrot between her waiting lips. She needed him badly.

She felt him lean in close, his voice a hot whisper in her ear. 

"Your pretty, bald pussy is dripping on my carpet, kitten."

The words caught her breath and flushed her a deep pink. Her slit felt hot and swollen and aching with pent-up lust. Dripping? Could her display have become so shameless?

"I'm...sorry...Sir." she was panting, trembling.

"Mouth open." he teased, and she gaped wide for him again.

His fingers entered her again and she sucked the gravy off them. 

She felt his hot palm cup her pussy; he didn't penetrate her but the contact brought an urgent moan and she rocked her hips forward slightly. He pulled his hand back. She felt it on her cheek next to her mouth, a gentle caress that left a trail of moisture behind. She could scent her juices in that brief touch and in the wetness that remained on her face. The proof of her naked lust made her groan in humiliation and need.

"Open." she did, spreading her lips wide. Her jaw had started to ache. His fingers were inside her again feeding her and stroking her lips as she chewed and swallowed.

"The food's all gone, my pet. Time for dessert." his voice was teasing and low and heated in her ear.

She felt fingers slide between the lips of her pussy, then higher to her engorged, throbbing clitoris. His touch was feather-light, enough to make her gasp and roll her hips forward but not enough to bring the release that had become her single-minded goal. Bound as she was, she could only moan and mew and try to follow his elusive fingers. It took only a few moments for the desperate craving to break her.

"Oh please, Sir! I need this so bad! Please do it harder?"

"It?"

"Touch me?"

"Touch you where, kitten?" 

"My clit." she was beyond shyness now, beyond shame. "Please rub my clit Sir! I can't stand this...I need to cum...so bad."

"Hmmm. Whose decision is that?" his voice was calm and steady, teasing. His fingers grazed her pink bud again.

"Yours, Sir. But...please...allow me?"

"I suppose you've been a very good girl for me today, haven't you?"

"Oh yes Sir! So good. Please?"

His fingers stroked her with more urgency now, touching her with just the right pressure, rubbing in perfect small circles that had her fighting her orgasm fiercely. She wouldn't release without his permission.

His lips were against her ear.

"Cum, kitten" he whispered.

She ground her soaking sex against his fingers as the orgasm hit, building to an incredible peak and then holding there, at the very top, for endless moments. When it was over she felt drained and warm and weary and whole. She slumped forward into his strong, waiting hands. He embraced her gently, his fingers working behind her to free her of the cuffs, then the blindfold.

He pulled her onto the loveseat and she snuggled against his warmth. He stroked her neck and face with his fingertips. They cuddled for a long while before her spoke.

"Tell me how you feel about the Fourth Gate, kitten."

She glanced down at her decorated nipples, then gently ran her fingers over them. They felt sore and deliciously sensitive.

"It really hurt to get them done, Sir, and there is more after-care than I expected. They were in agony for the first few days. But I love my barbells. They're a gift from you. I love looking at them and knowing that you had them put there."

"So you're better off after the Fourth Gate?"

He always asked that question and the answer was always the same. She seemed to get happier, more confident and more certain of him with each passing Gate.

"Much better off, Sir."

"Glad to hear that, kitten."

"Sir, would you please tell me about the Fifth Gate?"

"You just experienced it. The Fifth Gate is this: from now on, the only food you eat will be from my hand. You'll eat only what I serve you."

She paused to digest the idea. A small part of her was alarmed at the prospect of surrendering such a basic life function, but she was surprised at how easily she accepted the notion. After all, they already ate all their meals together. He was an excellent cook. She knew he cared for her and wouldn't let her go hungry...

"You mean I can't eat anything unless you feed it to me, Sir?"

"Or drink. Other than water, all food and drink that goes into your mouth will come from my hand."

"What if you're not around? Or if we go to a restaurant?" she'd already decided to pass through the Gate, but needed to know the details.

"We'll deal with the exceptions on a case-by-case basis. But the Fifth Gate will probably apply to ninety-five percent of what you consume."

"Then I accept, Sir. I think I'm even excited by the idea." 

As she said the words, she was shocked by the truth of them. The thought of kneeling for Robert as he attended to her food and drink was a powerful statement about the closeness of their relationship.

Suddenly she remembered the time. She looked over at the clock on the stove. 

"6:50! I'll be late getting home!" she cried. The commute by subway and bus was usually an hour, often longer.




Twelve Gates Ch. 07



"I'll drive you. We'll get you there before 7:30."

She considered for a moment.

"Enough time for a shower, then."

"You, or me?"

"Both. Together." she said, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a joyful kiss, content in the knowledge that in the days ahead he would be feeding her body as well as her heart.



Twelve Gates Ch. 08



Author's note: Let me again express my humble appreciation for all the positive and insightful comments and emails, and for the high ratings you've given my first real attempt at writing a story. It really does mean a lot to me, so thank you all.

***

He met her unexpectedly as she was leaving the office at the end of the day. He wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt under a gray hoodie; looking casual and relaxed without looking sloppy. A backpack was slung casually over his right shoulder.

Just the sight of him changed her. The tension left her shoulders and back, her heart beat faster and she smiled her first real smile since lunch. She tried to resist the urge to run up to him and throw herself into his arms. It had been a rough day.

He approached her with a wide smile of his own and without pretense he scooped her into a tight embrace. Her weariness evaporated as she yielded to the hug, wishing she could melt into him. When he finally released her it was only to gently tip her chin upwards and deliver a warm, slow kiss. The kind of kiss her co-workers would gossip after. She flushed self-consciously even as she returned it passionately. On the sidewalk in front of dozens of harried commuters, she felt her body respond.

She was equal parts relieved and disappointed when he stepped back, keeping her left hand in his right.

"You look like you survived another week." he said.

"Just barely, Sir. Are you here to carry me home?" she couldn't stay away and leaned into him, loving that he had come for her. She titled up for a second kiss and he obliged.

"Even better. I'm taking you to the best restaurant in town."

"In a hoodie and jeans?"

He winked at her and they walked hand in hand for several blocks. He set a casual pace; a stark contrast to the evening commuters pressing to catch their buses and subways. The late summer weather was warm and humid but she felt comfortable in her white knee-length dress. Her heels weren't really intended for long walks in the city but his slow speed made it easier on her tired feet. She wondered if she could coax him into giving her a foot massage after dinner. She'd been a very good girl for him today.

But first she'd have to pass the Sixth Gate.

They stopped in front of an old, four-story brownstone building. A clothing store had once occupied the ground floor but had gone out of business some months ago from the look of it. Fliers and graffiti littered the storefront. Robert had a set of keys and was opening the front door.

She followed him inside hesitantly, made nervous by the unkempt condition of the abandoned store. The door banged shut behind them. Dust lay thick on the floor and the air had a musty scent.

"Toronto's newest - and best - coffee shop." he announced, gesturing expansively with his arm. "I figure it should seat about 60. Good location, close to commuter traffic and the nearest competition is almost two blocks away. What do you think, kitten?"

"Am I required to give you the Complete Truth, Sir?"

He chuckled. "Okay, it's dirty and run-down and old-looking. Needs upgrades to plumbing and electrical. It's going to take a lot of work."

"That might be an understatement."

He caught her gaze in his brown eyes. "When you're starting something new, you don't look at what is, you imagine what could be. You have to be able to see the potential that's hidden under the surface. Once you can do that, all that's left is to do the work."

He moved behind her and pointed out where the counter would be, how the seating would be arranged, how customers would flow and move in space. She tried hard but couldn't see it. She knew that he saw it, though, and she had come to trust him completely.

As he finished his grand tour of the big, empty room he led her back outside and locked the front door. A few steps away was an adjoining door that she figured led to the floors above the store. And Robert produced another set of keys.

When they were inside the door he closed and locked it behind him. She was relieved to note that the door looked solid and heavy and secure, with only a small window set into it. A stairway wound its way upstairs. The hallway had the same musty scent as the abandoned store. She turned to Robert and found him looking at her thoughtfully. Mischievously.

"This place is a little dusty. I don't think we want that lovely white dress to get dirty, do you?"

She shivered, immediately aware of his meaning. She reluctantly reached behind her and started to lower the zipper on the dress.

"Are you sure this place is empty, Sir?"

"Positive, kitten. I was here less than an hour ago, before I went to meet you. Checked the place top to bottom."

She pulled the dress over her head and handed it to him, leaving her in a lacy white bra, skimpy white panties and her heels. During the last few weeks it had become commonplace for her to be undressed in his presence. He carefully folded the dress and slipped it into his backpack, then took her left hand and led her up the stairs. Her shoes knocked loudly as she ascended each step; the noise echoed through the quiet stairwell. The inside of the building was warm but she felt a nervous chill. She kept very close to Robert as he walked her through the interior.

"There are three apartments - each one occupies the entire floor. Real hardwood. They'd make good income properties." he said as he led her to the lone door on the second floor. He unlocked it and swung it open. They picked their way through dusty rooms, each one in disrepair, some littered with broken furniture. Robert paused every so often to point out the selling features of the apartment, clearly seeing the place through different eyes than she did. To Grey, the place was ugly and not worth the time and effort.

The third and fourth floors differed from the second only in the type and quantity of debris, although on the third floor there was one large room that had obviously been cleared of junk and swept clean. A thick white duvet had been spread out on the floor against the far wall.

"Shoes off, kitten. It took forever to clear this room and polish the floor. Let's keep the dust outside."

He slid off his runners and she removed her heels. The clean hardwood felt cool and solid under her bare feet.

"See how it doesn't creak when you walk on it? That means it was done right when they put it in."

He led her to the duvet. He sat with his back against the wall and pulled her down after him so she was seated between his thighs with her back against his solid chest. She loved the firmness of him against her back.

"Uh, Sir? There are no drapes on these windows." she said, feeling exposed in her underwear. Tall office buildings rose up on all sides. Anyone could be peeping in!

"Whew! Good thing I kept my clothes on."

"Your concern for my modesty is very reassuring."

He chuckled as he rummaged through his pack and pulled out a wet towel in a zip-lock bag and several sandwiches on brown bread, wrapped in waxed paper. Grey smiled to herself - Robert's attention to detail continued to amaze her. He carefully cleaned his hands with the towel, then unwrapped the first sandwich.

"Open." he commanded. She opened her mouth wide. After two weeks the response was almost automatic.

He carefully fed her a chunk of tuna sandwich. She chewed eagerly, impressed by how tasty he'd managed to make tuna and bread. Her fear of the apartment started to diminish as she snuggled into him.

She turned her head, opened wide and received another mouthful. He didn't always feed her with his fingers; sometimes he used utensils and sometimes he just cooked the food and let her feed herself. But eating from his fingers was her favourite thing.

"Tell me about your afternoon." he said.

She did, describing the routine tasks she worked on, the conflicts she was having with her boss, a phone call with an angry client. He listened attentively and made occasional comments or asked her to elaborate on different points. She loved having his ear; no matter how dry and trivial the words sounded to her as they left her mouth, he always treated them with care.

They ate together for the better part of an hour until the sandwiches were gone. He'd brought bottled water and she washed down her dinner. The surrounding buildings were blocking the early evening sun, and the room became dimmer and gloomy.

"Lie face down on the duvet, kitten."

She quickly complied. When she was stretched out. she felt him straddle her ass. His fingers were at the clasp of her bra. She raised her chest off the duvet as he carefully removed the lacy lingerie. She shivered at the idea of being mostly naked for Robert in an empty, spooky old apartment. But soon she felt her body respond to her nudity and the feel of his strong thighs on either side of her panty-clad hips. The bare windows and the surrounding skyscrapers didn't matter so much after all.

His warm hands were at her neck, rubbing and caressing and massaging. He knew just where and how to touch her. Anxiety and tension slowly dissipated, replaced by a heat that was equal parts soothing and arousing. She felt like she was dissolving into the duvet.

He worked his way down her back, clearly in no hurry, taking care to leave no muscle untended. He spent extra time on her lower back, pressing and kneading her. When he was ready to move lower he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs and off.

And then his hands were on her again, on her ample buttocks, the backs of her legs, her calves. And then - at last - her foot was in his hot grip. She moaned in pleasure and gratitude as his strong fingers squeezed and rubbed and pampered first one tired foot and then the other. When he finally released her she felt warm and peaceful and grateful.

She heard him rustle through the backpack again. She felt his hands on her ankles, spreading them apart. He continued until her legs were splayed wide, then he settled himself between them. She lay still on her stomach, relaxed and ready for whatever he chose for her.

She felt him caress her ass gently, then his finger dipped between her cheeks. She felt a slippery wetness as his finger stroked her tight rear hole and she tensed. This was new. His touch was gentle, deliberate. He continued to tease and rub her tight pucker until she became accustomed to the feel of his warm, well-lubricated digit on her most private flesh.

"I want you to relax and bear down with your muscle as I press in. Open wide for me, kitten." his voice was calm and steadying.

"Yes Sir"

She felt gentle pressure from her finger. Obediently she pushed, trying to allow him access even as her body fought the intrusion. The tip of his thick forefinger slowly penetrated her rear and he stopped pushing, allowing her to adjust to the new sensation.

The feeling was strange and taboo and her first instinct was to dislike it. But there was no pain and after a few moments she felt herself relax again.

"Does that hurt, kitten?"

"No Sir. Feels weird, though."

He slowly withdrew his finger from inside her but kept it in contact with her virgin opening. He gently rubbed her a little more and she felt a cool drizzle as a few more drops of lubricant were added.

"Push now."

She pushed and felt his finger penetrate again, just an inch or so, then retreat.

"Good girl. When you feel me push, you bear down as well."

"Yes Sir"

She felt steady pressure and she pushed down. His finger glided into her more easily and a little more deeply, then slowly pulled out. Again he pressed and again she responded to give him the access he wanted. His movements were slow and calm and predictable. Each penetration came a little more easily and a little more deeply.

Soon she was accepting his entire finger without resistance. She concentrated on feeling his push and on pushing down to accommodate him. There was no pain. In fact, the gentle stretching wasn't bad at all. Maybe even better than 'not bad'.

"You're doing well, kitten."

"Thank you Sir. It feels...okay, I think."

"Let's see if we can improve on that. Slide your hand down between your legs and give that clit a little tickle. Feather touches only."

"Thank you Sir."

Grey didn't need to be asked twice. She wasn't surprised to find herself already wet as her fingers began a light teasing. Her body responded immediately; it had been two days since he'd last allowed her a climax and her need for sexual release was never far from the surface. It was part of the effect he had on her.

"Don't forget to push." his finger pressed in again, and she pushed. Her rear accepted it all and he pulled back. Soon she was gasping with each slow penetration as the stimulation from her tight ass mingled with the steady pulses of pleasure from her clit. The movement of his finger inside her was heating her up fast.

"It's time for the Sixth Gate, kitten." He didn't stop his slow, gentle use of her. She fought to concentrate on her pushing and on keeping her touch light on her pink clitoris.

"Yes...Sir." she breathed.

"Tell me what you think of the Fifth Gate, before we get to the Sixth."

"I love eating...from your fingers, Sir. It makes me feel so cared for." Her stroking fingers were drawing short grunts of pleasure from her. Her ass opened eagerly to accept his finger.

"Keep that touch light. Feather touch only." he quietly admonished.

"Sorry, Sir. So hard to control." she had to force her fingers to stroke more lightly. Her body felt feverish, and her fingers were soaked in her juices. She could scent herself with every breath.

"So the Fifth Gate made you better off?"

"So much better, Sir." she realized with a shock that she was rocking her hips back slightly to meet his finger as it eased inside her.

There was silence as she moved and trembled under his hand and hers. Her orgasm was approaching with a slow certainty. She realized he was waiting on her next words.

"Please Sir...may I have the Sixth Gate now?"

He withdrew to add another small dose of lubricant. She felt empty without his finger and craved its return. When he slowly slid past her tight ring again it drew a moan of appreciation.

"Yes, kitten. The Sixth Gate is this: you're going to give your notice at work and quit your job."

Even as the words sunk in, her body continued to respond. The pleasure had taken on a life of its own and would not be denied. Her brain tried to make sense of his demand even as her own fingers continued their gentle assault on her clit.

"Quit? But...why?"

He slid his finger all the way out, then slowly back. She groaned and her hips met his gentle thrust, impaling herself, quivering with pure lust.

"Because you're mine and I need you with me, full time. I've decided that I don't want to share you with your boss anymore."

"I'm...yours?" the words shocked her, thrilled her. So dominant, so possessive. So true. She was his. He was everywhere in her life; with her in the morning and late into the night. His presence was the best part of each day.

"Yes, you are, kitten. All mine. A little harder on your clit please."

"Yes Sir. Thank you."

She eagerly complied, her fingertips dancing with greater urgency over her engorged bud as she humped back against his wonderful finger.

She needed a job! There were bills to pay - internet...cell phone...but even as her rational mind raised the objection she dismissed it - Robert would cover her bills. He wouldn't have made the demand if it would bankrupt her.

His thrusting finger picked up speed, still gentle and controlled but now urgent, demanding more from her. And she responded with her fingers and hips, feeling her orgasm almost upon her.

Her career! Her independence! Could she give all that up? Face the certain disapproval of her mother and grandmother? But somehow she knew Robert had a plan. He would never do her harm. And each time he'd asked her to give something up, hadn't she received more in return?

She was so close. She reached her limit and automatically started to fight her body's urge to cum. Waiting on his word.

"Not fair...to make me decide...like this. Feels too good to think."

"Maybe you're right, kitten. Should we stop now and discuss it?"

"No! Please, no. Let me cum Sir, please!"

"Maybe, kitten. We'll see."

She was grunting through gritted teeth, the pleasure washing over her in waves. Her climax was right there...waiting...held on the tip of his tongue.

She didn't like file clerking anyway. No pay raise in five years, after all the hours she'd put in? She'd happily trade her boss for Robert.

She was his.

"Sir...I accept...the Sixth Gate."

"Thank you, kitten."

"Now please, Sir, please. I need to cum!"

"Of course, pet. Cum for me."

She crested at the end of his sentence, feeling the spasms slam into her core and ripple outward delightfully. His finger left her as she jerked and twitched on the duvet. She felt his hot hand on the small of her back, a comforting presence as her ecstasy slowly drained away and she returned to reality.

He pulled her against him as he sat against the wall. She saw him wipe his finger on the wet towel and he covered her naked legs and hips with the duvet. She leaned into him and savoured his warmth and closeness. They sat together in silence for many long minutes.

She tried to summon up anxiety and resentment at being coerced into quitting her job but found that there was none. His arms were around her and everything was alright.

"So what are you going to do with me for eight hours a day, Sir?"

"I'll find some way to keep you occupied, kitten."

"My mother is going to freak."

"You hated being a file clerk. It was dull and you didn't find any joy in it. I bet your mother will be happy that you're finding something you love doing."

"Oh, and what is that?"

"Well, I'm going to be busy getting the coffee shop set up downstairs."

"Go on." she could see where he was going.

"We've got these three apartments here that need fixing up."

"Sir! I don't know anything about fixing up an old building!"

"You'll be an expert when you finish, though."

She found she couldn't argue with his logic. She snuggled against him and thought about how she would tell her boss. How she would tell her mother. Marveling, deep down, that she had placed her fate so completely in the hands of a man she'd known just three months.



Twelve Gates Ch. 09



Robert picked Grey up outside her grandmother's apartment building in his newly-leased black Charger. She wore a black dress with matching bra and panties, plus black shoes with a low heel. He was in his familiar jeans, with a gray t-shift. Even after fourteen weeks, seeing him brought a wave of excitement and warmth that still felt like it was new.

As he steered the car toward the highway he raised the subject they had both been thinking about.

"Today is the Seventh Gate, kitten."

"Yes Sir."

"Before that, how do you feel about the Sixth Gate?"

"A little nervous to be unemployed, Sir. But I know it will work out for the best" 

The day before had been her final day at Stern, Franken and Fitch. She'd given a full two weeks' notice of her quitting. Her coworkers had taken her out for a good-bye lunch, and in their fond good-byes Grey detected a note of envy. Apparently she hadn't been the only one unhappy with her job. But Robert had liberated her.

"Not too scared, I hope?"

"No Sir. I trust you."

"Completely?"

"Yes Sir."

"I'm glad for that, kitten. I'm happy to have earned that trust."

"You make it easy to trust you, Sir." there was a brief pause. "May I please have the Seventh Gate now?"

There was a brief silence.

"For the Seventh Gate we're taking a day trip. I'll need to ask for your obedience and consent. Is that clear?" his tone took on the serious edge that brooked no disagreement. 

"Yes Sir."

"And is that what I'm going to get?"

"Yes Sir. Always." 

"You know that you can say 'stop' at any time and I'll stop immediately. But that won't pass the Seventh Gate. Understood?"

"Yes Sir." she loved him this way: dominant and commanding, but gentle and safe. Her pussy began to throb and she knew her decorated nipples were stiff and poking into her bra.

"Good girl. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You'll find out all about it soon enough."

She nodded. His assertiveness made her feel even more submissive. 

So she sat in the passenger seat of the car, watching the scenery fly by and preparing herself for the Seventh Gate. The quiet ride allowed her to reflect on how Robert had changed her in just fourteen weeks.

The first six Gates had altered the landscape of her life. Before she'd met Robert her existence had been lonely, predictable, suffocating and joyless. It had been a seemingly endless stretch of dull, routine workdays at a thankless job followed by long, empty nights.

Now she lived in an exhilarating jumble of colour and sensation; her days filled with anxiety and novelty and ecstasy and a desperate, hungry love that bordered on obsession. In fourteen weeks he had taken her and made her his own. He dressed her and cooked for her and fed her. His fingers touched her in ways that made her burn and beg. His gentle brown eyes and low, teasing voice held her in blissful captivity. 

And he had changed her inside as well, making her feel sexy and wanted and important. Making her trust him with an irrational certainty that sometimes scared her. With him she was flirty and playful and confident and sexually open. 

And there were still six more Gates to go. How much more could he ask of her? How much more did she have to give? What was left? Robert had already claimed more from her than she ever imagined she possessed.

They took the highway west out of the city for half an hour and then veered north. The concrete and steel of the Greater Toronto Area slowly gave way to a greener, wide-open rural setting. The mid-morning was sunny and warm, and the change of scenery made her feel relaxed and refreshed.

After 45 minutes of northward travel he turned off the asphalt road and onto a gravel-topped rural road. They bumped and jostled along for a few more minutes until he slowed and turned into a long driveway that led up to a modest 2-story farmhouse. The property was vast and tree-lined, and behind the farmhouse was a well-maintained barn with wood-and-brick sides and a roof of aluminum siding.

Robert stopped the car alongside a blue Ford pickup truck. 

"We're here, kitten." he reached over and squeezed her knee reassuringly.

They got out and Grey stretched and breathed deeply; the air smelled like cut grass and fragrant trees. Robert retrieved a small suitcase from the trunk and led her hand in hand to the front door. She quivered with a familiar anxiety; the mixed fear and thrill of being thrust into a new adventure alongside the man she loved.

Before they could knock, the door was pulled open by a tall, slender woman wearing jeans and a tight black V-neck shirt. She looked to be mid-forties and in excellent shape. Grey's eyes were drawn to the narrow black leather collar around the woman's neck, fastened in place by a single silver buckle. It seemed to suit her in some way that Grey couldn't quite understand. The woman's eyes were friendly as she opened the screen door to greet them.

"Greetings. I'm Trina, and you must be Robert and Grey?"

"That's us." Robert extended his hand and she shook it. Grey did too, and Trina ushered them both into the house.

"Bill is just getting things ready out in the barn. I've got some coffee on. Interested?"

"That sounds wonderful. Just one cup." he gave Grey's hand a meaningful squeeze. He would be feeding her here as well. The thought of sharing their intimate ritual with strangers made her suddenly shy.

They took off their shoes and Trina led them through the house to a comfortable living room, with thick brown carpet, plush leather couches and an empty fireplace framed by a stone mantle. One wall was almost entirely glass and gave a panoramic view of the grounds, which were mostly wooded.

Robert sat at the end of one of the couches. Grey hesitated, torn between her habit of sitting at his feet and the instinct to sit on the couch inconspicuously. His eyes were on her but he gave no indication of his preference. Reluctantly she lowered herself to the carpet and tucked her legs up under her. It felt embarrassing and awkward but also familiar. His warm hand caressed her neck, stroking gently. The touch reassured her and she felt herself relax and lean into the couch between his knees. Nothing would go terribly wrong as long as he was with her.

A minute later Trina reappeared with a tray containing a mug of coffee and small porcelain cream and sugar jars with a tiny silver spoon. Robert flavoured the coffee to Grey's taste and took a sip, then handed the mug down to her. The coffee was excellent and the heat of it served to quiet some of her butterflies.

"So, welcome to our home and thanks for trusting us with your business." Trina said, sinking into a plush chair opposite them. "I understand we're doing two shoots today; one in the studio and one in the barn?"

Shoots? Studio?

"That's right. I saw the work on your website and couldn't decide between them. So why not both?" Robert said.

"We need more customers like you." she said with an easy laugh. She regarded Grey with a friendly smile.

"Have you done erotic photography before?"

Grey's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Erotic photography?

"She hasn't. Do you get a lot of first-timers here?" Robert said.

"Oh, yes." she winked at Grey, "We'll be very gentle. It won't hurt at all!"

"Uh...excuse me. What do you mean by erotic photography?" Grey asked. She suspected the answer already and her cheeks coloured pink.

Trina stood as if expecting the question.

"He mentioned on the phone that this would be a surprise for you. Why not come with me and I'll show you around while Robert finishes his coffee?"

Grey rose and handed the mug back to Robert and he winked at her mischievously. She followed Trina downstairs.

"This is the studio. We're stocked to accommodate a variety of tastes."

Grey froze and stared in amazement - the basement looked like a medieval torture chamber! Chains of varying thickness hung from thick wooden beams along the ceiling. Wooden frames of different shapes lined two of the walls. On one wall hung a wide assortment of ropes, whips, paddles and riding crops. In the centre of the room stood a cluster of photography equipment - cameras, tripods and different kinds of lights.

Trina took a photo album off a shelf on the near wall and handed it to Grey.

She opened the cover and was astonished at the pictures inside. Black-and-white photos of men and women bound by ropes in different positions, some blindfolded, some with skin marked by the cane or the whip. They stood, they kneeled, they hung suspended by their wrists or their ankles. The rope work varied from simple wrists-crossed-and-bound to the ornate: elaborate patterns and webs of rope that intersected at tight knots. The pictures were artistic and scary and beautiful.

Grey tried to think of something to say.

"This is what I'm doing today?" The alarm in her voice was obvious.

Trina laid her hand on Grey's shoulder. The older woman's green eyes were serious.

"Grey I want to tell you something important. Are you listening?"

Grey nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

"You have the power here today. Not Robert and not Bill or me. What you say, goes. If you don't like a pose or you're not happy with a shot, I need you to say so. If you start to feel panicky or uncomfortable or light-headed, all I need is one word from you and I'll put a stop to it immediately. Any questions?"

"Is this going to...hurt?"

"No. Not even for a moment. Robert was explicit about that when he arranged the shoot."

Trina's words brought a surge of relief. Even as he was pushing her limits, he was keeping her safe. 

"What will I be wearing?"

"Robert brought some outfits and accessories for you to wear. But..." Trina paused and seemed to be searching for the right words, "Well, this is erotic photography, right? There will be shots where you're not...fully covered."

Grey felt her face flush. 

"Who decides on the poses and the outfits?"

"Robert chose them. But again, you have the final say about everything that happens here. Not him. Clear?"

"Yes, clear." despite her nervousness, Grey felt reassured that Robert had been a part of all the arrangements. 

The two of them walked through the studio, Grey asking questions and Trina answering. Before long they were joined by Robert, carrying the suitcase, and a trim, dark-haired older man who introduced himself as Bill but didn't shake hands. He just smiled warmly and gave a brief nod.

"Bill doesn't touch the models." Trina explained. "His preference is that I handle the posing while he handles the camera work."

"Ok, let's get started," Bill said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together eagerly, "We need to be in the barn by 1:00 to get the best light."

Trina pulled a hanging drape across a corner of the studio, creating a makeshift change room. She gestured for Robert and Grey to go inside. Bill had already started fussing with the camera equipment.

Inside the semi-private change room, Robert knelt and started to open the suitcase.

"Clothes off, kitten." he said in a quiet voice, but she had already started wiggling out the black dress. No point delaying the inevitable. The air in the studio wasn't chilly but she felt goosebumps rise as she stood naked in bare feet.

Robert turned and showed the first outfit - a crimson baby doll top with a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps. She slipped it on - it felt light and soft and barely there, like a sensual caress against her skin. She felt more naked wearing it than she did when fully nude.

"Oh, Sir...it's...beautiful." she gasped, and it was true. And it made her feel sexy. And she could see the heat in his brown eyes as he looked her up and down. She didn't want to be photographed in it, but she very much wanted to wear it for him.

"We're not done yet." he said, holding up a small, torpedo-shaped object made of black rubber. Her blush deepened as she realized what it was and where she'd be 'wearing' it. "Turn around for me, kitten." 

She turned her back to him and bent over slightly, presenting her backside to him. She suddenly felt very vulnerable.

Soon his warm fingers, slippery with lube, dipped between her cheeks and gently rubbed her rear hole. Over the last two weeks she'd become accustomed to the feel of his fingers on and inside her tight ass and she welcomed the forbidden pleasure of the act. She felt his gentle push and she responded by bearing down. The tip of his finger slid inside her easily, and then back out. He repeated the shallow penetration several times, pausing twice to add more lube. 

"Same thing now, just push back for me. Open wide, kitten." he said in a steady, calming tone.

She felt pressure again, gentle and firm. Cool and hard and wet. The plug. She pushed back, feeling the tip enter her. He pulled back, then slowly pushed again, going a little deeper, stretching her a little more. And again. The fourth time she felt her tight opening stretch uncomfortably followed by a fullness inside her. Her ass clenched around the narrow neck of the plug now fully seated inside her.

"How does that feel, kitten?"

She straightened, coming to terms with the sensation.

"Weird, Sir. Kind of full."

"Painful?"

"No Sir."

"Good. Last thing." he held up her blindfold. Seeing it brought a surge of arousal. The blindfold was familiar and it brought with it a promise of ecstasy and release. It had been three days already, and the thought of a good hard orgasm sent a shiver of desire through her.

He buckled it in place, plunging her into darkness.

Then his strong hand was under her arm, gently guiding her out of the change room. She imagined three sets of eyes on her scantily clad body and burned with humiliation. It felt almost surreal to be displayed this way in front of others, something that she would never have dreamed she'd be doing. The plug felt foreign inside her as she walked. But there was excitement as well; she felt herself heating up.

"All set, then. First pose, Trina." Bill's voice was all business. 

She felt Trina's smaller hand under her other arm as Robert released her. Trina carefully led her a few steps, then took Grey's hand and pressed it against a hard surface - a bench. Grey was guided into a sitting position with her arms behind her. She felt hands on her knees, spreading them wide. Her weight on the plug pressed it into her more firmly. She felt Trina fussing with the hem of the baby doll, though whether the purpose was to expose or conceal her slit Grey couldn't tell.

"Part your lips...perfect. Hold right there." Trina said. Grey felt the older lady move away from her. 

There was one beep, then another from the camera. She'd just experienced her first erotic photograph.

"Second pose." Bill said.

Grey felt Trina's hands on her again. Her right leg bent at the knee and her right foot went up onto the bench and there was no question that her bald slit was now exposed. The shoulder strap on her left shoulder was lowered. Her right wrist was set on top of her raised right knee.

One beep. Then two. She realized that a complete stranger had just taken a picture of her shaven pussy. She felt mortified. She felt wild. She knew she was wet, and desperately hoped it wasn't as obvious to the camera...or to Trina.

Bill called for the third pose and Trina responded with gentle effectiveness.

Now she was on the floor facing away from the camera on elbows and knees, spread wide with her back flexed and her pussy exposed. She knew the base of the plug was clearly visible to the camera and to the three people in the room. She imagined Robert's eyes on her, hungry. His cock swelling under his jeans....

Two more beeps.

On her knees with one side of the baby doll off, exposing her right breast, the pierced nipple fat with arousal. Holding the hem of the baby doll above her bellybutton. Looking disheveled and wanton. For him.

Another picture taken.

Standing, one foot in front of the other, fingers hooked under the spaghetti straps and pulling them out and down. Almost revealing both nipples. Lips puckered in a kiss.

The posing continued. Sometimes she looked teasing and suggestive, other times sleazy and obvious. Each pose stimulated her in a new way and fueled powerful, sexy thoughts. Above all else was the certainty that Robert was watching her, seeing her in new, sexy positions. She hoped she was driving him crazy with the look-but-don't touch photo session. By the time Bill announced it was time for a costume change she could clearly scent her arousal in the air. The obvious smell of her sex filled her with shame and a perverse, reckless delight.

A strong hand - his hand - gently helped her to her feet and led her carefully back to the change room. He removed her blindfold. She met his eyes and saw the naked lust there. Silently she took his right hand and pressed it against her slit. His fingers slid between her soaking lips. This is what you do to me. 

She could see how hard he had to fight to step back from her. She read the struggle in his face - it was killing him to suppress his need for her, and the awareness of that fact thrilled her. He was the dominant one, but she had power over him, too. 

The next outfit was just a white skirt that reached mid-thigh. No blindfold and no top but her plug was still lodged securely inside her. Her blush returned as he led her out of the change room. Trina approached her holding a length of soft, white rope.

"Remember, Grey - if you feel any discomfort or panic or dizziness, I need to know right away. Clear?"

"Yes, clear."

Trina proceeded to tightly bind her wrists behind her back, then pass the rope around her torso and between her breasts, forming a makeshift harness. The tight binding around her chest caused even her B-cup breasts to stand out prominently. 

The posing began anew. Straddling the bench with her knees wide. On her knees with her back to the camera, showing off the intricate rope work. Lying on the floor on her side, eyes closed. 

She lost track of time, aware only of the beep of the camera, of Trina's warm hands on her flesh, of Robert's eyes following her every movement with a predatory intensity. Her breathing quickened. She was blushing down to the tops of her tits. Moisture gathered on the outside of her labia. Her engorged nipples throbbed almost painfully. Her scent was everywhere.

After the second photo set there was a pause for another costume change. Trina released Grey's arms from the rope and Trina and Bill went upstairs and outside to share a cigarette. 

No sooner were they out of sight then Robert was upon her, wrapping her in a hug, kissing her neck and biting her earlobe just a little too hard. But Grey was too consumed with her own fire to notice, running her hands urgently over the front of his jeans, inflamed by the bulge of his full erection. 

"Please, Sir...can I...suck you?" 

"Hurry, kitten!" his voice was a growl.

By the time her knees touched the floor he'd already freed his cock from its tight confines. She took him deep into her hot mouth with one stroke, loving the taste of him, the firmness. She felt his hands in her hair, his tight grip an urgent demand. He was thrusting too deeply, his control all but gone. She didn't care; she gave herself over to his need, and her own.

"Ready or not, kids, here we come." Trina called from the top of the stairs. How much time had passed?

It was a warning well-served. By the time their hosts came down the stairs Grey and Robert had retreated to the change room to compose themselves and change into the third outfit. 

The third photo set had her naked under an oversize Calgary Flames hockey jersey. He'd removed her plug and she felt its absence as a loss. It was a more playful set, more peek-a-boo than wanton and slutty. Grey relished the chance to frolic in front of Robert while wearing the colours of his hometown team. The change of pace did nothing to cool the desperate heat inside her. Every glance into Robert's eyes told her the same was true of him.




Twelve Gates Ch. 09



The fourth set had her totally naked, white rope binding her hands and chest, wrapping around her hips and then dropping down into the crevasse of her ass cheeks and then up through the lips of her smooth and shamelessly leaking pussy. Grey had to fight for control of her orgasm as Trina deftly tied the rope off. Every movement during that set brushed the rope up against her swollen clit. Her thighs were soaked and her whole body trembled with need. The smoldering looks she gave the camera during the last set were genuine, not faked.

The fourth set mercifully ended; Grey was a hot, dripping mess. Bill suggested that Robert help him set out the lunch they had prepared and the two men went upstairs to the kitchen. Robert cast a backward glance at Grey that left no doubt about how pleased - and heated - he was with her performance.

Left alone, Trina undid the knots in the white rope and helped Grey to her feet. She surprised Grey by pulling her into a gentle hug, holding her close but not tightly. Grey found herself returning the hug without understanding why. Somehow it didn't feel awkward to be naked and embracing the older woman. 

"There's a washroom with a shower upstairs if you'd like to freshen up. Clean towels are next to the sink." Trina said.

Grey's face reddened, aware that the scent of her juices in the studio had become obvious and prominent.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Trina. I don't know what-"

Trina waved away her apology with a dismissive gesture.

"Happens all the time. It's part of who you are. Part of who we are. I've learned not to apologize for it."

Grey's eyes returned to the black collar around Trina's neck.

"Are you Bill's..." she trailed off, not knowing the right word. Property? Slave? Submissive? 

"I'm Bill's wife," Trina said kindly, "And we make one another incredibly happy. And judging from the smell of you and the persistent bulge in Robert's jeans, I'd say the same is true of you two."

Grey smiled shyly, not knowing how to respond. After lingering in the embrace for a few moments more, Grey stepped away from Trina and recovered her black dress from the change room, then followed her hostess up the stairs.

****

Lunch was a simple platter of sandwiches and orange juice. 

Grey felt renewed after her brief shower. She knelt at Robert's feet in her black dress, cheeks pink with embarrassment, and allowed him to feed her. Bill and Trina shared an amused glance but otherwise didn't seem to find the behaviour unusual. Given their line of work, they'd probably seen stranger things. Perhaps they'd even done stranger things.

The conversation during lunch was pleasant and comfortable. Bill was a retired cop, Trina was a defense lawyer who still worked part-time. They'd been married twenty-six years and had no children. She wore his collar at home not due to his insistence but because it made her feel more connected to him. Trina expressed envy at Grey's nipple piercings; she hadn't had hers done because she was nervous that they would set off courthouse metal detectors.

Grey found she enjoyed their company - they were easy to talk to and seemed genuinely kind and interesting. She dared to wonder if she and Robert would enjoy the same long-term happiness that Bill and Trina had.

After the sandwiches came another round of coffee, and then Bill announced it was time for the second shoot.

The four of them left the house and made the short walk to the barn. Bill and Trina led the way with a few camera cases, a tripod and a large duffel bag, and Robert walked with his arm around Grey's waist. His hand frequently dropped to her ass to caress or squeeze and she welcomed his interest. She found that her nervousness had disappeared, leaving only anticipation and eagerness in its place.

The inside of the barn was arranged into six stalls of the kind livestock would be kept in. Each stall seemed outfitted to express a different kind of kink, with benches and iron cages and tables with manacles in each corner. Somehow they'd even acquired a gynecologist's examination table, complete with stirrups. Grey was relieved when they passed by that stall without entering. The windows in the barn were all set higher on the wall to prevent prying eyes.

Finally Bill set his camera cases down outside an empty stall. Ropes and pulleys hung from a solid-looking wooden framework build around and above the ten-by-ten enclosure. 

"Here we are, folks. Please mind the floor - there are eye bolts screwed in there and we don't want anyone tripping."

Trina was opening the duffel bag and Grey felt Robert unzipping her dress down the back. By the time Trina turned to face them holding lengths of black rope, Grey was already naked. As her wrists were bound tightly in front of her, Grey again felt a surge of lust. She was discovering that she quite liked the sensation of being bound.

Trina led Grey into the stall and positioned her in the middle, facing the entrance to the stall. The older woman knelt and used thinner lengths of rope to secure Grey's left ankle to an eye bolt in the floor and then her right ankle to another bolt three feet away. Grey's wrists were then pulled up above her head using a rope-and-pulley arrangement. Stretched and spread, Grey could only wait for Bill to finish his preparations and allow Robert's hungry eyes to feast on her helpless captivity.

Bill took several shots, then Grey was re-positioned with the same pose but facing away from the camera. More pictures. Then her wrists were released and her hands placed on the floor in front of her with her back still to the camera. Bent and spread, Grey could imagine the view she was presenting. The heat and wetness had returned will full intensity; her slit felt swollen and thick.

Again she lost herself in the moment, obediently allowing herself to be bound and positioned in any way that Trina indicated, welcoming the new sensations of every pose. She felt uninhibited, daring and alluring. Each time she stole a glance at Robert his eyes were locked onto her; she had all of his focus. She came to regard each new posture as a chance to tease him, arouse him, seduce him. The obvious scent of her juices no longer humiliated her; she embraced it, eager for Robert to know it was for him. It's a part of who I am. No apologies needed.

The final pose had her on her knees, arms tightly secured behind her back, her ankles spread and secured to eye bolts in the floor. She wore a metal collar which Trina had tethered to another eye bolt. Her cheek was pressed against the wooden floorboard, her naked ass high in the air. Prone and splayed wide open, unable to move her arms or even raise her head, Grey had never felt so completely defenseless, so totally exposed. But even as she knelt, tightly bound, her lust coursed through her, unrestrained. Pictures were taken.

And then Bill was packing up the camera and moving toward the door. 

"We're going up to the house to get these digital pictures processed for you," Trina said, "It should take about forty-five minutes or so. Robert, I assume that you can handle getting her untied and dressed?"

Grey didn't hear his response but a moment later she felt Trina's warm hand rest lightly on her bare, upraised rear. "I hope you enjoyed your first photo shoot, Grey. See you up at the house. No need to rush." 

Grey thought she heard some of Robert's teasing tone in Trina's voice.

And then she was alone with him, still bound tightly and secured to the floor.

She heard his footsteps, saw his sneakers as they approached to stand close to her head. 

"It seems we have almost an hour together, kitten." he said. She could hear the lust in his voice; knew he was fighting a losing battle to contain it.

"Touch me Sir. Please! Or let me touch you. I need you!" she made no effort to conceal the desperation in her voice.

He crouched and she felt his hands at the rope near her neck. He untied the rope from the eye bolt then stood again, holding the end of the rope. 

"Hmmm. I could get used to this." he teased as he very gently tugged the rope attached to her collar. 

On her knees at his feet. Collared. Tethered. Panting with lust. She felt completely at his mercy. Owned. She turned her shoulders to see him holding the end of her makeshift leash. His eyes burned with a barely-contained, ravenous hunger. He looked powerful, his presence commanding. All at once, everything seemed to make sense. This is who I am.

"Please...touch me...Master." she said, her voice no higher than a whisper.

"What did you say?" his voice was low. Disbelieving.

"Master." she repeated with growing confidence. "Please Master! I've been so hot for you all day. I need you so bad. Please."

Master. The word broke his self-control.

She was yanked upright and his hands were behind her, clawing at the knots in the rope. Rough. Frenzied. Her arms were freed, and she grabbed his face in her hands. Her tongue was in his mouth. His strong fingers closed over her tits, squeezing, making her nipples hurt. Her fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans, then with the zipper. 

His pants were down, his cock deep in her mouth, too deep. She gagged but her fingers were on his ass, pulling him deeper. She wanted all of him, whatever the cost. She forced loud moans from him as her mouth devoured his cock.

They shifted position. He was naked and on his back, and she was on elbows and knees above him, his cock still deep in her mouth. His teeth found her clit, then his tongue bathed it in wetness. 

She climaxed instantly. It hit her hard, with no warning and she screamed around the cock in her mouth and shook with ecstatic spasms. 

Even as the first orgasm slowly receded she felt a second one building and she ground her sex against his mouth. She felt his cock swelling between her lips and she licked and sucked and bobbed her head frantically. Loving the scent of him, his hardness, his heat. She needed his cum, craved the taste of him.

With a roar, he erupted, jerking his hips up, plunging deep into her waiting mouth. She drained him with long, deep strokes, swallowing his load eagerly.

His tongue didn't stop or even slow, continuing to lick and caress her swollen clit expertly. She reached the edge, held herself there until she had emptied him of every precious drop of cum. Only then did she release him from her mouth.

"Please Master, may I cum for you?" 

He grunted, unwilling to release her clit for even a moment.

She took that as a 'yes' and allowed him to carry her over the edge again. Her second cum seemed to start from deeper inside her and lasted longer than the first. It was a full minute before she became too sensitive to continue.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto him, resting her cheek against his thigh, gasping for air. She felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath her. 

Her Master. 

The word seemed to fit just right - it expressed everything he was to her and everything she wanted to be for him. The realization had changed her. Changed them. She wondered how the change would affect them in the weeks ahead. She smiled wearily to herself. She couldn't wait to find out.



Twelve Gates Ch. 10



Author's note: I'm so very grateful for the comments and emails and the support of my readers. It's a real pleasure for me to know that you're enjoying my efforts. Thank you again! 

****

Grey was stretched out naked on her back on Robert's king-sized bed. Her ankles were bound with black rope, secured to the bottom of the bed frame. His black leather belt was wrapped and buckled around her knees, pressing them together tightly. Her wrists, also bound with black rope, were tied off to the iron grille of his headboard. A pillow was under her rear, pressing the butt plug into her ass and raising her smooth-shaven mound invitingly. The blindfold kept her in complete darkness. A shiny black leather collar was secured loosely around her neck by a brass buckle. 

The collar was one thing that had changed after she passed the Seventh Gate. He'd found one he liked the following day and buckled it into place as she eagerly knelt in his apartment. He'd admonished her never to remove it on her own; only by his hands would it come off. She was allowed to touch it, though, and often did. Running her fingers over the smooth surface was one of her favourite things. Like her barbell nipple piercings, the collar was his symbol, his mark on her. A visible and welcome reminder that she was his.

Not that a reminder was necessary. They were together most of the day - she would arrive at his apartment shortly before eight in the morning to eat breakfast from his fingers and he'd drop her off at grandmother's apartment shortly before 7:30 every evening. By 9:00pm her webcam was on and she was his again.

Robert was lying beside her in the bed, facing her, propped up on one elbow. While contractors worked on the plumbing and electrical wiring in the new building he had little to do but savour the delights of her body. Right now he was tormenting her with one finger, slowly trailing it over her body, pressing firmly enough not to tickle. He'd been at it for only a few minutes and already the feeling of his finger on her skin had become her universe.

"Are you losing weight, kitten?"

"Yes Master. Seven pounds since you took over feeding me six weeks ago."

She hadn't called him 'Sir' since the Seventh Gate; that had changed, too. He was her Master now. The word fit so well, and having used it for the first time at the end of the photo shoot, she couldn't imagine calling him anything else. It expressed their relationship perfectly. Even more so because she had come to use the word on her own; he hadn't insisted.

"Hmmm. And how do you feel about that?" he wasn't leading her with the question; he sounded genuinely curious.

"I can easily afford it, Master, and more besides that."

"Well, I can't have you starving on me."

"I don't think that will be a concern for a while."

His finger traveled up the right side of her ribcage and started making slow circles in her armpit. She squirmed but couldn't get away and it was that knowledge - the awareness of her own helplessness under his touch - that aroused her. Bound as she was, she could only accept whatever he had in store.

"And how are these piercings healing?" his index finger dipped lower and gently flicked her erect nipples. The touch caused mild pain and a pleasing tingle in equal parts.

"They don't hurt - unless someone plays with them, Master."

"Someone?" his voice was amused, "I'll try to keep people away from them, then."

His finger continued southward and began to make slow circles around her navel.

"And I don't need to ask if you enjoy your plug, do I kitten?"

Her cheeks coloured a soft pink.

"No Master. I get hot just thinking about having it inside me. Is that weird?"

"Weird?"

"To enjoy having something...up there."

"Maybe. But I like you weird."

His finger stroked lower to the top of her mound. She prayed it would dip lower still.

"You have such a pretty slit. And not a hint of stubble. It's cruel of you to deny me the excuse to spank that cute bum."

"Do you need an excuse, Master?"

"Of course! I need to keep up the pretense of fairness, at least."

She giggled. "I'm grateful for your sense of fair play."

His finger stroked the lips of her pussy. She could feel them swell and thicken under his touch.

"The Eighth Gate, kitten. Does it seem like it's been four months?"

"I feel like I've known you longer, Master. I'm starting to forget what my life was like before we met."

He wiggled his finger between her cunt lips and caressed her clit once, then twice, then his finger was drifting idly northward once again. Grey groaned in frustration.

"Do I need to ask what you thought of the Seventh Gate?"

"It changed everything, Master." 

She'd learned how much she loved being bound and helpless; how much she enjoyed putting on a show for Robert; how she could inflame him without a touch. And the black and white photos that Bill had taken that day were pictures of a sexy, graceful, beautiful young woman. Robert had framed one of the pictures and hung it on the wall of his bedroom. It showed her in the hockey jersey with her back to the camera, shirt raised to mid waist, her full, shapely ass on full display. 

Best of all she'd learned from Trina that a submissive woman could still be professional and articulate and powerful. It didn't define her life, but was one aspect among many. That lesson made it even more of a joy to wear Robert's collar.

"For the better, I hope."

"It made everything SO much better."

His finger made tight circles around her nipple.

"I'm changing the rules regarding the Gates."

The announcement caused a pang of apprehension. She'd only just become accustomed to them. What now?

"How so, Master?"

He was quiet for a few moments. His finger moved to circle the other nipple. Both points were fully erect now, and throbbing.

"I've known for a while now that I'm not going to leave you, even if you fail to pass a Gate. Maybe I could have ended it after the first two or three Gates, but I don't think I could anymore. I'm staying, regardless."

"Really?" She had to contain a cry of joy.

"Yup."

"So...we're done with the Gates?" As she spoke the words, she felt an unexpected sense of disappointment. She had done so well with the first seven...and they had improved her in so many ways.

He was using his whole hand now, rubbing her arms in a gentle massage.

"Nope. We're going to continue the Gates. But now instead of passing them because you're worried that I'm going to leave, you're going to pass them because I think they're important."

"Yes Master." she considered his words and found them to be true - doing it because it would please him was a much better reason than because he was compelling her. It made the act an expression of her love and of her power rather than a duty.

"Any questions?"

"Yes Master. Could I please hear the Eighth Gate now?"

His hand was moving over her breasts now, squeezing and stroking and sending welcoming chills all through her.

"The Eighth Gate is this, kitten. You're moving in here with me."

The idea thrilled her but her heart sank as she realized the near-impossibility of it, the obstacles in the way.

"Master, grandmother needs me at night. She can't get around very well on her own and..."

"I know, kitten. I'll drive you down after dinner and you can spend some time with her and assist her, then I'll drive you back here when you're done."

"But...that could be a few hours. You're just going to sit in the car?"

He began to rub the skin just below her navel and his hand seemed to be transmitting heat directly to her sex. 

"I'll go to a Starbucks and get some paperwork done. I'm a little behind, to be honest."

She couldn't help a quiet moan as his hot hand slid lower, stroking the tops of her thighs and the outside of her pussy. She wished she could spread her legs to give him better access, but with her knees bound she could only take what he offered.

"My family will disapprove, Master. You and I aren't married, and they're pretty sticky about that."

His hand was stroking her raised mound and slit, gentle caresses of her most intimate skin.

"Does your family approve of you being naked and tied to my bed?"

"They don't know...about that."

"But you approve of it, don't you?"

"I love it, Master. Your hand feels so good."

"So it's fair to say that your values are a little different than theirs?"

It was hard to concentrate when his hot hand was doing such wonderful things to her sex.

"Yes Master, but..."

He interrupted her by leaning in and running his hot tongue over her labia, a slow lick that ended at the top of her mound. She gasped and tried in vain to spread her legs but had to settle for raising her hips a tiny bit. 

"Please continue, kitten. I want to hear all your objections." he teased.

His tongue was again on her slit, stealing her breath.

"Ahhh...and...what if grandmother needs help...during the night?"

His tongue burrowed between the tightly closed lips of her pussy, grazing over her swollen clit. She moaned and thrust upwards ineffectually, feeling her tight rear grip the neck of the plug.

"Good point. What would we do then?" he turned the question back on her.

He pressed his wet lips against the soft skin below her navel, sending lustful tingles through her core. She could feel his hot breath on her thighs. She desperately craved the return of his tongue.

"We could promise to go over...anytime she calls, Master? Even at night?"

"Good idea, kitten." as a reward, his tongue returned to her slit, giving long, lingering licks to the smooth-shaven skin. 

"Mom...won't like this. Us living together..."

He dragged his tongue over her twice more, in no hurry to respond. 

"Whose collar are you wearing, kitten?"

"Yours, Master."

"And what does that mean?" he lashed her clit, causing her lips to jerk upwards.

"I...belong...to you."

"Who decides what you wear?" 

"You do."

"Who decides what you eat?" he alternated between questions and wet strokes of his tongue.

"Ahhh...you...Master."

"Who decides when - and if - you can cum?"

"You do, Master. Please..."

"So, who decides where you're going to live?"

"You decide, Master." there was no hesitation in her answer; the words were coming from deep inside.

"And what has your Master decided, kitten?" Another brief stroke to her eager clit.

"That I'm going to live here. With you." the words sounded so incredible to her ears - the realization of a months-long fantasy. Why had she ever thought of resisting? She was his.

"And so?" he tickled her clit again. She was breathing in gasps.

"I accept the Eighth Gate, Master."

"You're going to fall asleep naked in my arms every night?"

"Oh, yes Master. Please."

"And wake up to the feeling on my hands on you, kitten?"

"Mmmm. Yes. So good..."

"And spend your days and nights close to me?"

"Yes Master, I can't wait." and it was true. She imagined cuddling into his warm body in bed, showering with him, not having to watch the clock during their time together. She could feel her juices soaking her thighs and the pillow beneath her.

"You'll be moved in by next Friday, won't you?"

"Yes Master. Thank you so much."

"That's the Eighth Gate passed, then."

"Please Master, let me spread my legs for you." her hips were rising to meet his mouth and she struggled against the belt binding her knees.

She felt the bed shift, felt him alongside her again, his lips on her armpit. His warm hand was stroking her again, wonderful and unhurried. She felt his saliva, cool now, on her soaking sex. 

"I think you're in for a very long afternoon, kitten." he said in a voice that was sexy and teasing and just a little bit evil.

She moaned and gave herself over to his hands and mouth. Her release was a long time coming.

****

Waves of cold dread washed over her as she sat in the passenger seat of the Charger. Robert was next to her, looking so handsome in dress pants, a white shirt and a red tie. Looking so calm as his eyes scanned the road ahead, his hand resting lightly on the wheel. Navigating the route to grandmother's apartment, where her family awaited them.

Her mom had insisted on meeting him, of course. The man who'd convinced her to quit her stable job. The man who had her spending every waking moment in downtown Toronto. The man who Grey would be living with - sleeping with - beginning tonight. So they'd arranged a "friendly" dinner at grandmother's place. Grey's sister would be there, too. 

There was no way to know how the dinner would unfold. Her mother could be stubborn and opinionated and direct. Her opposition to pre-marital anything had been drilled into her daughters from a young age, even before dad had died. Grandmother was of the same stripe. Grey knew her sister would offer moral if not verbal support, but it wouldn't mean much compared to the combined disapproval of the family matriarchs.

What if they made things awkward for Robert? What if they rejected him? Convinced him to end the relationship? The fear fed on itself and disaster scenarios occupied her thoughts as she stared out the window at the surrounding traffic.

She looked herself over, trying to distract herself from the feeling of foreboding. Her blue blouse was clean and buttoned almost to the neck. Underneath that her padded white bra effectively concealed the outline of her barbells. The hemline of her black wool skirt fell almost to her ankles. Robert had meticulously shaved her and left her bare under the skirt when he'd dressed her late in the afternoon, but overall her image was proper and conservative. A look her mom and grandmother would approve of.

When he parked the car and turned off the engine Grey had to take several deep breaths to steady herself.

"That was a quiet trip, kitten." 

She realized she'd hardly spoken since they'd left his apartment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Master. I'm just really nervous about the dinner."

"I told you to relax. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"It's not your behaviour I'm worried about. Mom's going to give you a rough ride."

He chuckled. "It's her job to keep the riff-raff away from her pristine daughter."

"But you're my riff-raff and I don't want her to drive you away." 

He gently gripped her chin and turned her face toward him. His brown eyes were warm and reassuring.

"Grey, whatever happens tonight, you're coming home with me."

"Yes Master."

"During dinner, you might want to call me Robert." 

Her face went white as she realized that one slip of the tongue would doom her in front of her family. Even the thought of calling him Master during dinner horrified her.

"Oh, this is going to be a disaster." she moaned.

He sighed. "I don't like to see you nervous, kitten. Let's see if we can't focus your attention more...productively."

He struggled to retrieve something from his pocket, then held up her plug. She grabbed it and covered it with her hands while her eyes darted out the windows.

"Master! Anyone could be watching!"

"No one is watching, kitten. Insert it now - we don't want to be late."

"Dry, Master?"

"Wet it."

When she realized what he meant her white complexion flushed pink. She looked out the windows again, searching out onlookers. He took her chin and captured her eyes with his. He didn't let her go.

"Now, kitten." 

Helplessly she raised the hard plastic to her lips, then extended her tongue. Although she carefully washed the plug in antibacterial soap after each use it still felt so dirty to run her tongue over the smooth surface. She gasped as a current of arousal warmed her, taking the edge out of the fear.

She gave the plug another slow lick while staring into the eyes of the man who had mastered her. She saw the heat in his gaze as well; the sight of her tongue on the sex toy was affecting him and that added to the thrill.

She slid the whole plug past her lips and into her mouth, focusing on gathering as much lubrication as she could. She lifted her hips and her other hand gathered the long skirt around her waist. 

He continued to cradle her chin and hold her eyes as she lowered the plug and rubbed it over her rear hole, spreading the saliva around, then returned the plug to her mouth to apply more wetness.

She pressed the tip of the butt plug against her tight pucker and pushed. Her tight ass opened and stretched painlessly around the toy, welcoming it. She'd become so accustomed to its presence that it went in all the way on the first gentle stroke. She felt the ring of muscle close around the narrow neck of the plug as it seated itself fully.

She quickly smoothed her skirt back down. Her eyes were still on his.

"Better now?" he asked.

"Better, Master." she smiled, her first genuine smile in many hours.

The walk to the apartment was an almost surreal experience. The skirt fanned air on her newly-shaven slit, which responded to the gentle caress. Each step shifted the plug inside her ass, drawing more of her awareness to her nether regions. Combined with that was an abject but muted fear over the coming dinner.

She let them into the apartment with her key and they stepped into an elevator. As the doors closed, Grey felt the sense of terror begin to rise.

"Lift your skirt, kitten." he said, and the command in his voice had her obeying even before she could think to object. She held the hemline of the skirt above her navel, baring her cunt to him.

He withdrew a tube from his pocket and squeezed some unscented cream onto his left hand. Gently he smeared it over her hairless mound and labia, causing her to gasp at the cool but sensual contact. Unconsciously she pushed her hips forward, pressing her sex into his hand. He didn't slide his fingers into her, content to keep the contact external.

"That's good, kitten. You can lower your skirt now." he stepped back and put the cap back on the tube and slipped it into the purse that hung from her shoulder.

"What was..." she started, then trailed off. She felt a warmth begin to build between her legs where he had touched her. It gradually increased in intensity, becoming hot. Hot like his hands. Hot like his breath. Hot like his tongue. Her body responded immediately; she felt her pussy swell and lubricate and her breathing quicken. She uttered a quiet gasp and squeezed his arm.

"A little liquid heat I picked up to help you with your anxiety." he teased.

The elevator doors opened and they walked together down the hallway. Her hand trembled as she tried to fit the key into grandmother's door, but it wasn't due to fear. That fear was gone - consumed by the hungry fire between her legs. 

The door opened and they stepped into the apartment. Robert smiled his easy smile and greeted her family. They smiled back, politely at first. There were handshakes for Robert and hugs and kisses for Grey. All the while, she could feel him between her legs. His heat. His ownership. 

Even through the small talk and the sometimes pointed questions, he filled her awareness. And she knew then that whatever was said during dinner, she belonged to him. With him. The certainty filled her with calm and she began to relax and to smile. This could only end one way - with her in Robert's arms. In his bed. She couldn't wait.

****

Later that night, after the dinner, after the ride home, she knelt for him on the floor at the foot of the bed in his room. Their room.

She wore his collar and nothing else.

Dinner had gone well. Robert had been a hit with her mom. Even her grandmother had accepted his gentle hug as he and Grey departed. Disaster had been averted.

She heard him in the shower and wished to be with him, running her soapy hands over his arms and chest. Hugging him from behind, stroking his beautiful cock. Hearing his noises and breathing his soapy scent. Feeling his hands on her. His fingers inside her. 




Twelve Gates Ch. 10



But he had wanted her to shower first, then to wait for him on her knees. She wished he would finish and come to the bedroom. He'd only just left her sight but she was starting to miss him terribly. She glanced quickly at the clock on his night stand. 10:16. It still didn't seem real - her being there at night. All night. And every night from now on.

The shower stopped and her heart pounded in her chest. She crossed her wrists behind her back in anticipation of his arrival, hoping that the posture would entice him to bind her. She loved the feel of the rope, the feeling of helplessness. The awareness that she was his in any way that he chose to enjoy her. 

The bathroom door opened. She thrust her tits out eagerly, her nipples fully engorged and tingling. Eager for his eyes on her.

He appeared in the doorway, naked and damp and half-erect and gorgeous. Holding her leash coiled in his hand. Even in the dim light of the bed lamp she could see the predatory hunger in his eyes. The sight of him soaked her pussy. He approached slowly, almost casually, coming to a stop in front of her. Her eyes never left his. 

He reached down and hooked a finger into a D-ring on her collar. She heard the 'click' as the leash was clipped on. She was breathing so heavily that she had to open her mouth. 

He pulled on the leash, not roughly but not gently either. A silent command. She leaned forward and took him in her mouth with a satisfied purr. She slid her tongue over him expertly as she inhaled his soapy-and-masculine scent. She felt him grow thick between her lips and felt her own hot, wet lust throbbing between her widespread thighs. She hoped that tonight would be the night she would finally bathe his cock in that wetness. 

She kept her eyes on his face as she sucked. His own eyes were closed, savouring her intimate work. After several long minutes he opened them and stepped back, leaving her empty and panting and wanting. 

A firm tug of the leash had her on all fours, crawling to the side of the bed. He stood her, then bent her forward at the waist, legs wide, elbows on the mattress. She flexed her back and pushed her sopping cunt out towards him. Please. 

She heard him in the drawer of the night stand. The sound of a wrapper tearing. A condom. 

"Yes. Please, Master." she whispered.

"Eager to give me your virginity, kitten?" his voice tried to sound teasing but the tone was heavy with lust.

"Master, I'm not..." she began, then stopped as realization dawned on her. That virginity. She felt a moment of nervousness that quickly passed as his finger stroked between her cheeks. Then she was suddenly eager for it. Eager to give him what no one else had claimed; a part of herself that would be his alone.

"Yes Master. Please." she breathed.

"Please what, kitten?" his finger was slippery now, lubricating her rear hole thoroughly. His touch inflamed her and she pressed back, desperate to have it inside her.

"Please do it...there. Put it in."

"In where?"

She groaned in pleasure and pushed as his finger slowly slid inside her, meeting no resistance. He pulled out, then slowly slid back in.

"My...bum". Please put it...in my bum."

"You want my hard cock up your ass, Grey?"

"Please Master."

"Say it." his finger was driving her wild, filling her and then retreating.

"Please put your hard cock up my ass, Master."

Saying the words released something primal that had been pent up inside her. She pushed back eagerly, impaling herself on his finger. She felt him withdraw, then a new stretching as he eased two fingers inside her. She pushed back regardless, loving the sensation as they plunged in all the way. 

"Please hurry Master. I want it so bad."

"It?"

"Your cock...in my ass."

Then his fingers were gone and there was a new pressure at her opening. It didn't scare her; she was ready. Desperate. She pushed and felt his cock slowly stretch her as it entered. The head was inside her, no wider than her plastic plug.

He paused, allowing her to adjust.

"More...please..." she gasped.

He pushed with steady pressure. She felt him slide deeper, then slowly pull back. Cool drops of lube between her cheeks. Then he pushed forward again. There was no pain, only a persistent stretching, a unique full feeling. Another brief retreat followed by a deeper penetration.

And then she felt his hot hips against her ass. She'd taken his whole length. He groaned in pleasure. She loved his sounds, the ones that came from deep inside him. Loved coaxing them out.

"Any pain?" he asked, his voice low, tight. The voice of a man at the limits of his control.

"No Master."

"No more virginity." 

"I love that you took it. I wanted you to have it."

"Stop me if I hurt you."

He pulled back, then pushed in again, beginning a slow, gentle rhythm. She felt a tingle from inside her pussy each time he pushed forward and it got stronger with each controlled thrust. She loved the feel of him in her ass, no longer caring if that was weird, savouring the fullness and heat and intimacy of their shared act.

He added another few drips of lube as he picked up speed. His hands gripped her hips tightly. She thrust back to meet his cock with each penetration, moaning as the tingle in her pussy became a growing need. He became more insistent, his thrusts less controlled, his hands tightened around her. 

He buried himself deep inside her as his orgasm hit, a strangled cry of release escaping his lips. He was rigid inside her for several moments, gasping for air.

"That was...incredible." he panted.

"Please Master, me too?" she said, her voice plaintive, her hips still pushing back against him gently. 

"Don't move, kitten." she felt him slowly withdraw, leaving her gaping and empty. A moment later he returned and she felt a hot, wet washcloth gently cleaning her, feeling heavenly against her skin. She felt no shyness as he attended to her, only need.

And then she was on her back on the bed and he was kneeling on the floor, his tongue licking her clit, two thick fingers skillfully stroking in and out of her dripping pussy. She was at the edge instantly, begging for her release. He teased her, leaving her clit to plant burning kisses on her smooth mound and soft inner thighs, his fingers withdrawing to stroke and tickle her outer folds. 

She pleaded, promising him anything in return for his tongue on her swollen bud, lifting her hips in search of contact. He relented and licked her for a few moments before withdrawing again. She wailed and begged and moaned and gasped and lost herself in his control of her.

When he allowed her to cum, she stiffened and rode his tongue, moaning shamelessly, ecstasy exploding outward from her core. Draining her, drawing her closer to him.

When the night ended, she was lying on her side and he was behind her, his warm body pressed against her back, his arm hugging her to him. The lights were out. Her body still ached and throbbed from his eager use. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off. Grey snuggled against him and it was better than she'd fantasized. She closed her eyes. Warm, safe, loved and whole, she gave herself over to sleep.



Twelve Gates Ch. 11



To my readers: thank you for your kind words, your comments about the plot and your constructive criticisms. I truly value your input and feedback. Literotica isn't currently accepting .rtf files, so this will be my first chapter submitted as text. 

***

Grey met him at the top of the winding wooden staircase wearing only an oversized t-shirt, white socks and running shoes. His collar was buckled loosely around her neck and her eyes were bright with excitement. 

"Now there's a sight that's worth walking up three flight of stairs for." he said, taking her in with his warm, hungry gaze. 

She grinned, faced away from him and raised the shirt to her waist, baring her rear and giving him a playful look over her shoulder. He tried to swat her ass with an open hand but she danced away before the blow could connect. He chuckled and reached for her. She allowed herself to be gathered into his arms.

"You have to close your eyes, Master." 

"Can't I enjoy the view for a few more minutes?" she could see his eyes linger on the obvious outline of her nipples through the thin shirt. 

Only she and Robert had keys to the new building so he had felt free to dress her scantily while she painted the interior. The shorts and bra she'd worn on her walk to the new building were set aside, away from the dust and wet paint.

"You can enjoy the view for as long as you like." she purred, then tilted up for a kiss. He obliged, adding a tight hug for good measure. She breathed him in; his scent was familiar now, and welcome.

He held her for another few moments, then stepped back, keeping her hands in his.

"You texted that you wanted to show me something, kitten?"

"Yes Master. Eyes closed now."

He pressed them shut and she led him by the arm into the apartment. The clutter and debris had been removed and the floors had been swept so the path to the kitchen was clear. Finally she brought him to a halt.

"Okay, open your eyes, Master."

She watched his face as he opened his eyes and took in the newly painted kitchen. His eyes registered surprise, then delight.

"Hey! This looks really good, kitten!"

"What do you think of the colour?"

"I wasn't sure I'd like the Sea Foam when you first picked it, but you were totally right -- it's bright and welcoming. Good call!"

She beamed at him proudly. The kitchen had been an ordeal from beginning to end -- filling the drywall holes with putty, sanding, washing the walls and painting. It had taken hours to apply the two coats of paint. But it had been her project from beginning to end -- she'd done everything herself, and the result was easily worth the effort. She found it refreshing and motivating to work at a job where the outcome was so obvious and so pleasing. And the fact that she loved her new boss did wonders for her enthusiasm.

Robert stepped close to one wall and gave it an appraising eye.

"This is quality work! I've seen professional jobs that weren't done this well."

"Thank you Master. It sure wasn't easy."

"But it feels great when you're done, doesn't it?"

"It really does. I'm just so pleased with how this turned out." 

He smiled at her and drew her close to him again, his eyes mirroring her own pride and excitement. She felt his warm hand drift lower to squeeze her rear. 

"Oh -- don't forget to take the 'after' pictures." he said, fishing his cell phone out of his front pocket and handing it to her. She snapped pictures from several angles, capturing the results of her work for posterity.

"I don't suppose it's time for lunch, Master?" she asked, returning his phone. The physical activity of the past week had improved her appetite considerably.

Lunch was served on a rickety fold-out tea table. They sat side by side on folding chairs and shared the ham-and-cheese sandwiches he'd packed into a cooler. 

"So when these apartments are finished, how much will you charge to rent them?" she asked.

"You mean how much will you charge, kitten." 

"Me?"

"I told you that these apartments are your project from start to finish." he fed her a bite of sandwich. She chewed and swallowed quickly.

"I'm going to be the landlord?"

"Landlady. And yes, if you're willing to take that on." he said. 

She took a moment to process his latest unexpected and unwelcome revelation.

"Wait -- you're telling me this now?" the frustration in her voice surprised her. 

He regarded her with a cautious expression; the change in her tone hadn't gone unnoticed.

"You were so busy with the painting and cleaning, kitten. I didn't want to bury you with all these details at once."

"I thought I'd be helping you with the coffee shop." she tried to filter the aggravation from her voice. 

There was a long pause. She could see him reading her expression and body language.

"I guess I didn't communicate that very well," he said in an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry about that, kitten." he held out another bite of sandwich as though it were a peace offering. She sighed and took it from his fingers.

"Sorry for snapping at you, Master. The painting may have tired me out a little. I was just caught off guard by the...sudden change." she tried to be graceful about it. After eighteen weeks of non-stop and unpredictable change, she found herself growing weary of not knowing what was next.

"My fault, you don't need to apologize."

"Thank you Master."

"Okay, so let me back up and ask which option you'd prefer. Landlady or coffee shop? Both? Neither?"

"Well, I don't know anything about being a landlady."

"Are you interested in learning?"

She tried to put aside her emotions and consider the idea objectively. She absolutely loved the process of fixing up the apartment -- renting it out seemed like the next logical step. And the rental income would be a useful contribution to the life she and Robert were building. It would be something new for her, a chance to pick up a new skill set. She found herself slowly growing eager for the challenge; the feeling of being totally in charge of a project was liberating.

"Are you going to teach me, Master?"

"I don't know anything about renting. Buying, yes. Renovating, yes. Selling, yes. Being a landlord, no."

"There are probably laws and regulations to follow, but I could get those from the library." she was thinking out loud.

He fed her another bite.

"Sounds like you're up for it?"

"Yes Master, it would be interesting. Are you sure you trust me with it?"

"A thousand percent sure, kitten."

"Thank you." she felt genuinely touched by his confidence, and her annoyance began to fade.

They ate together in companionable silence for several minutes. Her head was filled with questions that she'd need to find answers to. She vowed to make notes on her cell phone after lunch.

"When do I get to hear about the Ninth Gate, Master?" she asked between mouthfuls. That time had come again. More change, and none of it under her control.

"It almost sounds like you're eager for it, kitten." he teased.

"Curious more than eager. There are four Gates left and I've been trying to guess what they're going to be." 

"You've been guessing? What have you come up with?" his voice registered real interest and he turned his chair to face hers.

She paused, reluctant to share her musings on the matter. But she knew Robert would insist, so she took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"Well, I subscribe to this blog. It talks about...alternate lifestyles." she said delicately.

"Are we living an alternate lifestyle now? My parents will be so proud." he teased.

"Do you want to hear this or not, Master?" she felt shy about sharing her ideas on the Gates, and his gentle ribbing didn't help.

"I'm sorry kitten. So what did the blog have to say about these Gates?"

"Well, not about the Gates specifically, of course. But there were articles about different kinds of activities that Masters get up to with their...partners."

"And some of them struck you as interesting?"

Her cheeks coloured at his words.

"Well...I figured maybe since you're a Master that you'd have similar tastes, and would have used these ideas in the Gates."

"But none of them interested you personally?"

Her blush took on a deeper shade. She silently cursed the Complete Truth for the umpteenth time.

"Yes Master, I did find some of them...interesting."

"Now I'm really curious. So which ones sounded Gate-like to you?"

"Well, one article was about different postures that Masters liked to teach their partners. They had different names like 'inspect', 'submit', 'welcome' and so on."

"What made you think that would be a likely Gate?"

"You taught me to kneel, so maybe..." she trailed off.

"Hmm. That's awfully clever, kitten."

"Thank you Master."

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me the poses. Demonstrate them."

"But..." she was stuck. She couldn't say she didn't remember the poses because she did remember them, and in any case Robert could just find the blog on his phone and retrieve the information. She sighed and got to her feet. She knew she was red-faced; her cheeks were hot.

"Um...okay. So one of the poses is called 'inspect'. You stand..."

"Is the submissive is supposed to be naked in these poses?" he interrupted.

"I don't think it was a requirement, but maybe implied." 

He didn't reply, just looked at her expectantly. 

She caught his meaning and pulled the t-shirt over her head, then removed her shoes and socks. She was glad that she had hung bedsheets over the windows to provide privacy from the surrounding office buildings. Naked, she met his gaze and saw the heat there, the desire. She felt an answering surge of arousal. She loved his eyes on her, loved the thrill of being desperately wanted. 

Setting her feet wide apart, Grey laced her fingers behind her head and pushed her elbows back to be parallel to her shoulders.

"This is 'inspect', Master."

He got to his feet and stepped close to her, then walked a slow circle around her. She held the position, certain that his eyes were roaming over her. The thought caused an excited shiver.

He crouched in front of her.

"And I suppose the Master would use this position to inspect his submissive..." His warm hands touched her ankles and slowly drifted up the front of her legs, over her shins, her knees. "...to ensure that she had been thorough when shaving." His fingers slid higher, to her thighs, then trailed over her smooth pussy lips and brushed against her mound.

"Yes Master...that was probably the intent." she felt the swelling and heat in her sex and knew she was wet. His fingers didn't penetrate her, just teased and caressed her slit gently. After a few wonderful moments he rose and stepped back from her.

"You said there were other positions?"

She knelt with her buttocks on her heels, brought her chest down until her breasts touched her knees, then set her forehead on the floor and extended her hands out in front of her, palms down on the hardwood floor.

"This is 'welcome', Master." 

She heard him walk slowly around her prone body again. To display herself in a position of such abject submission humiliated her and heightened her arousal. She wondered, not for the first time, if the one caused the other. 

"Hmm. Not my favourite. I like to be able to see your pretty eyes, kitten. May I see another?"

She raised herself onto her elbows and knees, then lowered her forehead to the floor, spread her knees wide and flexed her back. This pushed her exposed cunt back towards him. She could feel the cool air on her wet slit as he made another circle.

"This is...'mount', Master." the words and the obscene posture thoroughly embarrassed her.

"I wonder what this position is for, kitten?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"I think that's pretty obvious." 

He walked a circle around her, lingering behind her for a long moment. Clearly he enjoyed the view from that angle -- her most private flesh was plainly visible.

"This position has a certain...appeal." he said.

"Yes Master, but the hardwood is killing my knees."

"Sit back down on the chair, kitten. I think you've given me the general idea." he helped her to her feet and back to her chair, then handed her a bottle of water. 

"What else did this blog say that you thought would be a likely Gate?" he asked.

"Well...there was an article about a Master who had his partner recite a morning pledge to him when they woke up every morning. You know...greeting him, pledging her service to him. That sort of thing."

"And what do you think of that idea?"

"I'd do it if you wanted me to, Master." she said, her tone dutiful but without enthusiasm.

"Nah. That idea might cross the line between 'Master' and 'egomaniac'."

"I didn't think there was a line, Master." she said sweetly. 

"Nice." 

"The Complete Truth compelled me to say it."

He chuckled. "Okay, what else did this blogger write about?"

"There was an article on a 'slave contract' between the Master and his partner. I know how much you like details, so this sounded like it might be something you'd consider for a Gate."

"And is it something that appeals to you?"

"Yes it is. It makes everyone's expectations clear. It probably would have been more useful in the beginning than at the Ninth Gate though." 

"You're likely right. So what would my duties be in this hypothetical contract, kitten?" 

"It would be something we'd write and negotiate together, Master."

"What sorts of things were mentioned in the blog?".

"Well, the contract would spell out what you could and couldn't do. With me, that is." 

"Such as?"

"Well, like you couldn't do anything to seriously injure me."

His expression became incredulous.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You wouldn't, Master, but that was one of the things mentioned in the contract on the blog." she quickly explained.

"Okay, fair enough. What else?"

"That...you wouldn't have any other women. That's just an example - I'm obviously not suggesting that you would cheat."

He stared at her. 

"And that...you couldn't make me do illegal things. Or...share me with other guys, or...animals." she drifted into silence, too embarrassed to continue. Why had she ever thought this would be a good idea? How could he not be offended at the implication? 

"Animals?"

"It was in the blog, Master."

"Grey, are you worried that I'll ask you to do this stuff?" his voice was serious.

"No Master. These are just some examples from the article."

"What kind of contract specifically covers sex with animals?"

"The author probably just wanted to touch all the bases."

"That would be one hell of an 'alternate lifestyle'." he muttered, shaking his head.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Robert revived the conversation.

"Okay...so what would your duties be under this contract?" 

"I'd have to obey you and follow your rules. And consent to punishment...if it was needed. That sort of thing."

"And what sort of behaviour would I need to punish, kitten?"

"The blog more or less left that up to the Master to decide."

"And you'd have to wear my collar?" he reached out and ran a finger over the smooth surface of the leather buckled around her neck.

"Yes Master, that was in there as well."

"And your body would be available to me at any hour of the day or night?" he dropped his hand lower and gently squeezed her breast. His hand felt hot and welcome against her bare skin, and she leaned into his palm.

"Any time you wanted it, Master." 

He stroked and squeezed her for a moment, then slid his hand down over her belly. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensual caress.

"And the contract would describe proper posture?" he tapped the inside of her thigh and she spread for him. She quivered in anticipation of his fingers.

"Oh yes." she breathed.

"And it would describe what sorts of touching were permitted and forbidden?" His fingernails stroked lightly over her smooth pussy lips and inner thighs. She spread wider and slid her ass to the edge of the chair to give him better access.

"Yes Master."

"And what other duties would be in the contract for you to perform, kitten?" his index finger dipped between her pussy lips and sampled her wet heat, then travelled higher to graze her erect clit. It stayed there, tormenting her with feather-light caresses.

"I'd have to show respect." 

"How so?" his finger moved skillfully, teasing, building her hunger.

"Kneel for you...call you Master." her face was flushed as she spoke the words. Her breathing was fast and hard. It had been three days since her last orgasm and she felt the need acutely.

"And what are your other obligations?" his finger left her clit and she felt two thick fingers slowly slide into her pussy then withdraw to caress her outer lips.

"Ahh...chores...dress..."

"Does it specify what sexual activity is permitted?" his fingers were inside her again, stroking in and out at an almost leisurely pace.

"Yes Master." she moaned and rolled her hips forward to meet each gentle thrust.

"What does the contract say we can do?"

"Anything." 

"That's not a very good answer, kitten." he teased as he withdrew his fingers, "Contracts need to be very carefully worded to prevent misunderstandings. Try again?"

"Kissing?" 

The answer was rewarded as his fingers slid into her again. She felt him nuzzling her neck.

"I always enjoy your lips. But that's not all we're allowed to do, I hope?"

"Your fingers are allowed...in me."

"In where?" 

"Oh, right there." she loved the friction of his shallow penetration. 

"Where?"

"My...pussy."

"Good. Very good." he was leaning close to her, his voice low and hot in her ear. His fingers slowed, then threatened to withdraw.

"My...bum."

"Your what?"

"My ass, Master. Your fingers are allowed in my ass." 

"Mmmmm."

"And your cock is, too."

He pulled out of her and slid slippery fingers over her engorged clit, drawing a hungry groan from deep inside her.

"This is becoming quite a list."

"Ahh...yes Master. It's a very long list. Please...don't stop."

"I won't."

"Feels so good..."

"I have to say, kitten, I love your contract idea. Shall we write one?." his finger continued to rub her pink bud in gentle, tight circles.

"If you like, Master."

"Tell me what you thought of the Eighth Gate." 

She couldn't keep her hips still; they rocked back and forth against his fingers. 

"I love living with you, Master. The last two weeks have been the best, really. Better than a dream come true." She failed to suppress a moan. "May I please hear the Ninth Gate now?" she was rushing, knowing that a blissful release might be waiting for her on the other side of the Gate. 

"The Ninth Gate is this: I'd like to get you a tattoo."

"A tattoo?"

"Provided you accept the Gate, of course." his finger didn't slow its relentless attack on her clit. 

She felt herself close to the edge of orgasm. Her breath was coming in gasps. She tried to force her attention to the matter at hand.

"What..what kind?"

"I was thinking a silhouette of a kitten. About the size of a quarter. Located about three inches southeast of your belly button."

"Sounds cute, actually." 

"I thought so."

"Maybe...on my shoulder instead?"

"I want my mark to be somewhere that only the two of us will see it."

"I'll wear sleeves?"

He laughed and she smiled even as she fought for control of her impending climax. She'd caught on to his habit of inflaming her lust before announcing a Gate and had learned to negotiate even while clinging to the edge.

"How about on your lower back?" he said, surprising her. She hadn't expected him to give in. 

The lower back wasn't a bad idea - she knew women who had tattoos there. And she wouldn't have to display herself obscenely to the artist. She was surprised to discover that the idea of wearing his mark gave her a warm feeling. The tattoo would be like her collar and nipple piercings -- gifts from him. Symbols of his control. For better or worse.




Twelve Gates Ch. 11



"Okay...lower back. I accept the Ninth Gate, Master."

"Thank you."

"Now, please?" there was no mistaking what she was asking.

"Okay kitten." he whispered, kissing her neck as the long-awaited tremors stiffened and shook her. His fingers knew how to draw the pleasure out, prolonging the ecstasy, and she shuddered as they stroked her. When at last her clit became too sensitive to endure his touch he pulled her body against his and held it close.

"Thank you Master." she sighed, leaning into him. He kissed her forehead and she felt herself relax.

"That blog article about the different poses...maybe we ought to read that together?" he asked.

She smiled at his interest and agreed. 

Three more Gates, then things would settle down. Or so she hoped -- living Gate to Gate had proved tiring and stressful. The end was in sight. Grey hoped the subtle feeling of anxiety she felt would disappear when she passed the final Gate...



Twelve Gates Ch. 12



Grey sat in a chair in her bank. Robert was beside her, making small talk with the account representative. She was in the process of passing the Tenth Gate, giving him visibility into - and limited signing authority over - her finances.

She was trying to fight an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

In truth, the Gates had always made her anxious to some degree. The first few had made her very uncomfortable but she'd assumed that was due to the fact that she didn't know Robert very well. When she'd come to know him better, the Gates had been easier to pass because she trusted him and loved him. She still did, desperately, and more with every passing day.

But for the last couple of weeks the rising feeling of unease had been difficult to shake and even more difficult to understand. 

Certainly his behaviour toward her hadn't changed; he was attentive and loving and gentle and warm. Thoughtful and respectful. He clearly enjoyed not just her body but also her company. And he openly trusted her - she opened his mail; she had his bank card and knew his security code; he insured her to drive his car. He was completely unguarded and honest with her.

She reached over and signed the documents the banker put in front of her, listening with half an ear as he explained each clause in the contract. Robert would have limited signing authority over her accounts - she'd have to co-sign on transactions over $500. 

As her signature marked the paper, her bad feeling increased.

And she couldn't understand why - the reason was hard to pin down. Her total bank assets amounted to $3500 - hardly a vast fortune. Robert had given her signing authority on his own line of credit worth almost ten times that - she'd already used it to buy paint and cleaning supplies for the apartment. And the $500 co-sign on her accounts had been his idea, not hers. It was blatantly obvious that he wasn't after her money. 

Still, something didn't sit quite right.

She considered that her anxiety might be related to the loss of control - her finances were the last thing that was entirely hers; the one thing he didn't control or influence. But she had already willingly - happily - given him control of her diet, her job, her living space and her appearance. And when he tied her up the loss of control was the most arousing aspect of the bondage. She literally put her life into his hands several times each week.

No, his semi-control of her finances wasn't the source of her ill feeling. She'd felt anxiety at low levels for weeks and since the Ninth Gate it had grown increasingly difficult to ignore or suppress. Something was wrong, but what?

Then she and Robert were back in the car and the deed was done. Another Gate passed. Two left.

"You seemed preoccupied, kitten. What's on your mind?"

"Oh...just thinking about the trip to Trina and Bill's." she said. A lie. She avoided his eyes and pretended to root through her purse. She felt his gaze on her and there was a brief pause before he turned the key in the ignition and steered for the highway.

It had been weeks since she'd seen Trina and Bill for her first photo session. When she had received an email from Trina the week before inviting them to 'an evening of rope and relaxation' she'd convinced Robert to go, then arranged for her sister to cover the night with Grandmother. She secretly hoped she'd get a moment alone with Trina - maybe the older woman would have some insight into Grey's anxiety.

She didn't want to discuss these feelings with Robert, not yet. Not until she'd identified the cause, something concrete. How could she approach him with 'something-is-wrong-but-I-don't-know-what'? She needed to bring him something clearly defined and fixable. 

The invitation had specified casual dress and she was wearing yoga pants and a comfortable Toronto Argos sweater over a t-shirt. He was in Dockers and a polo shirt, looking relaxed and comfortable.

They hit the highway and followed it west and then north. The mid-afternoon scenery away from the city was calming and beautiful. Conversation was sparse because she was preoccupied with her thoughts. After a few attempts to draw her out, he seemed to realize that she needed her space and resigned himself to an easy listening station on the radio.

When they pulled into the long driveway of Trina's country home they saw another car ahead of them, in addition to Bill's blue pickup truck. Trina greeted them at the doorway, looking lovely in jeans and a pink fleecy sweater. She wore her leather collar with the silver buckle and Grey wished she'd brought hers as well. She felt a kinship with the graceful Trina despite the twenty year difference in age.

After Robert shook her hand and Grey embraced her, Trina led them into the brightly lit living room. There were two other guests seated on the plush leather couches. A thin young man with dark hair and brown eyes wore jeans and a black t-shirt. His arms were covered in barbed-wire tattoos. Next to him sat a full-figured young woman with green eyes and brown hair. She wore a beige dress that ended too far above the knee for Grey's taste. Then again, she herself had worn shorter skirts since she met Robert. Both guests looked to be in their mid-twenties, slightly younger than Grey.

"Hanna and Dennis" Trina said, indicating the couple on the couch.

Dennis stood and shook hands with Robert. Grey noted - with pride - that Dennis' thin frame made her own Master look all the more powerful by comparison. She noticed Hanna noticing as well; the younger woman stood and shook hands first with Robert and then with Grey.

By the time the introductions were done Trina had returned with a plate of crackers and pate, and started taking drink requests. 

"Bill is bringing a few things up from the studio." Trina explained, before disappearing again to the kitchen.

The word 'studio' made her wary. Grey wondered if Robert had planned another photo shoot. The presence of the two younger guests made her feel shy and inhibited.

Bill came in carrying a closed hockey bag, which he set down next to one of the couches. He quickly shook everyone's hand. Grey remembered that he never touched the models - did this mean there would be no pictures taken? The thought eased some of her anxiety.

Trina returned with drinks and everyone sat. Robert patted the seat of the couch next to him and Grey sat there instead of at his feet. She flashed him a grateful smile; she'd have been humiliated to sit at his feet in front of the younger couple.. He stroked the back of her neck gently and winked at her. 

The conversation was light, the atmosphere relaxed. Grey learned that Bill had shot both Dennis and Hanna in the studio; the young couple took it in turns to be dominant and submissive. Hanna was a personal support worker at a retirement home, Dennis was an apprentice electrician. Bill told stories about his years of police work. Trina told stories about Bill that were affectionately unflattering.

Grey again wondered if Bill and Trina were a model for how she and Robert would be in their middle years - peaceful, loving and content. She wondered what obstacles the older couple had overcome, what uncertainties and anxieties they had faced along the way.

For an hour they relaxed and engaged in friendly chatter. Finally Bill rose and directed Robert to help him move the furniture. The couches were pushed back against the wall and the coffee table was cleared away, leaving the plush white carpet bare in the centre of the room. Bill stood in the centre with Trina next to him. Grey could see a faint blush on her cheeks.

"We asked you here today because you're all interested in rope work," Bill said in a direct, no-nonsense manner, "And there are a bunch of dangerous practices happening out there on the internet. So I'm going to show you some knots and ties and some safety tips as well. Questions?"

He had the attention of everyone in the room. After checking that there were no questions, he nodded to his wife. Trina gracefully pulled the sweater over her head. She wore a plain white sports bra underneath. She removed her jeans to reveal a matching pair of white panties. Not sexy but sporty and serviceable. Her body was slim and athletic; the kind of shape Grey could only dream of.

"You look lovely, Trina." Grey said with an admiring glance. There were murmurs of assent from the other guests. Trina flushed a deeper pink and smiled at her, but didn't reply.

"I didn't marry her for her cooking." Bill said dryly. He got an elbow in the ribs for his trouble.

Bill pulled a length of soft, white rope from the hockey bag.

"I'll start out with some basic knots and ties."

He proceeded to demonstrate technique, using Trina as his model. Grey and the other guests stood close enough to get a good view. Robert and the younger couple were very interested in the lesson. 

Grey's eyes were on Trina. How did it feel to be displayed in front of so many people? Did she enjoy it, or was it a duty? The older woman's expression was almost serene but her pink blush alluded to a certain shyness. Or perhaps arousal - Grey remembered her own experience in the studio. The recollection of it brought some heat to her cheeks.

Trina's hands were crossed behind her back and bound, then released and bound again with a different knot. Bill kept up a running commentary on the advantages of one knot over another, or how different uses of rope would produce a tighter bind, or greater comfort. He spoke bluntly but his words carried the weight of experience.

The first part of the lesson consisted of arm binding only. When it was done, Bill passed out similar lengths of white rope to Robert and to Hanna.

"Time to practice. Works better on bare skin, but it's up to you." he said. He untied Trina and she sat, still in bra and panties, on a couch along the wall. Bill remained standing to guide the lesson.

Dennis was quick to strip off his t-shirt and turn his back to Hanna. He wore an amused, eager expression. Hanna was likewise excited and her eyes glinted mischievously as she uncoiled the rope. Their relationship was still a game and they were having fun dreaming up the rules.

Robert turned to Grey, and held up the rope.

"Interested, kitten?" he looked into her eyes. She loved his brown eyes; always warm and easy to read. 

Grey glanced quickly at Trina, who met her eyes and nodded encouragement.

"Yes Master. Would you like me to roll up my sleeves?"

He chuckled. "Sleeves, eh? Sure, we'll start there."

She rolled she sleeves up to her elbows and Robert started with the rope. As they were working, Bill continued to lecture.

"I have three unbreakable rules of rope work," he said, "First: never tie rope around someone's neck. That's a disaster waiting to happen. If you want to bind the neck, use a collar and bind the collar. The neck is too important and too unprotected."

Everyone signalled their understanding.

"Second: never leave a helpless person unattended for any reason, ever. Things can go bad so fast you wouldn't believe it. Down in the studio I've had people pass out, panic, throw up, have seizures, you name it. One guy went into cardiac arrest. You have to be there at all times."

There were nods around the room. Grey was gaining a new appreciation for how complicated the skill set was - there seemed to be more to tying someone up then buying a rope and finding a willing victim. 

She could feel Robert behind her, tying and releasing her arms and wrists. She could sense a slow, mild arousal building in her. She loved the feel of his hands on her, the rope against her skin. She loved that he let her keep the sweater on; he was being protective of her feelings and it made her warm to him.

"Third: The person being tied calls the shots. All the shots, all the time. They say stop, you stop. They want out, you let them out. If they say they're uncomfortable, you fix it." Bill said, his voice clear and assertive.

Grey saw Hanna strip off her beige dress, leaving her in a yellow lace bra and white cotton panties. Dennis, still shirtless, grabbed the rope and started to bind her. Grey realized she was the only woman in the room not showing her underwear. 

After several minutes of practice, Trina stood again and Bill demonstrated ankle and knee ties, binding Trina with her legs straight then with knees bent. After that there was more practice, with Dennis eagerly stripping down to plaid boxer shorts. 

Grey started to feel self-conscious and stuffy. Everyone else in the room was clearly into the spirit of the evening, but she was still fully dressed. And Bill, Trina and Robert had already seen her naked...and worse. Was she making Robert look bad - he with the only submissive who wouldn't play along?

"Yoga pants are pretty thin - no need to remove them." Robert said, kneeling and reaching for her ankles. Impulsively, and before she could second-guess herself she stepped back and drew her pants down her legs, leaving her in a green thong. 

Robert looked up at her, his eyes filled with surprise, then understanding. And then hunger, that familiar predatory gleam that signalled his most primal intentions. She felt a blush rise to her face. The warmth between her legs was gaining in power. She sat down and extended her legs to him, then shivered as his strong hands grabbed her ankles. She saw his gaze linger on the tiny triangle of green material that covered her pussy. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel his tongue between her legs.

Bill was back in full voice.

"If you're the one being bound, you have exactly one job: communicate. If it hurts, say so immediately. Don't try to tough it out, don't hope it will get better on its own, don't understate the problem. If it hurts, say the words: I...am...in...pain. Simple, direct language."

Bill's words cut through her lusty thoughts and lodged deep inside her. A revelation.

Robert noticed her change of expression and his hands stopped moving the rope.

"Hurts?"

Grey shook her head dismissively and gave him a half-smile. It was enough to convince him to continue and he worked methodically through the different ties. 

After forty minutes of rope work the men went outside to commiserate in manly fashion around the barbeque. Grey hoped that Hanna would join the men but she stayed with Trina in the kitchen. 

The three women chatted as they put together the side dishes. Hanna seemed interested in Grey's painting and renovating but even more keen on knowing what Grey and Robert got up to in bed. Grey found it a challenge to dodge the younger woman's persistent questioning. Hanna herself was unreserved as she listed the different sex acts she had done with - and to - Dennis. 

Trina was artfully firm with Hanna and wouldn't be drawn into sexual discussions, which left Grey with the sense that the older woman knew more than she was telling. During the thirty minutes of kitchen work Grey didn't get one moment alone with Trina; Hanna was a constant and tiresome presence.

Dinner was delicious and the chatter was light and superficial. Grey kept vigilant for opportunities to get a few words alone with Trina but there were none. 

So she focused on Robert. His easygoing manner made everyone else relax. Hanna tried several times to get him to open up about his sex life but he gently put her off. It seemed to Grey that Hanna was flirting outrageously but Robert seemed oblivious, maybe deliberately so. His warmest smiles and his winks were reserved for Grey alone, and she found herself drawing closer to him as the evening progressed. More determined to do whatever was necessary to make what they had together last.

After another couple of hours of chatting and light rope work, the party wound to a close and they were all at the front door with handshakes and hugs and promises to meet again soon. Before long she and Robert were in the car on the highway in the fading evening light. 

She knew what she had to do and she was relieved that the gathering dark hid her nervous shaking. She didn't want to wait until they were in his apartment, until she was naked and collared and even more vulnerable. 

"Robert, could you pull off the road, please?" she said in a quiet voice.

He quickly signalled, pulled onto the shoulder, parked and hit the four-way flashers.

"Feeling sick?" he asked, and even in the fading light she could make out his concerned expression.

She turned to him and took his right hand. It felt warm while her own was cold and clammy.

"I'm scared." she said. Simple, direct language.

He didn't say anything for a long while, just looked at her. She met his gaze and kept the silence.

"Because I have signing authority at your bank?" he asked. His voice was low and tentative. Gently inquisitive.

"I don't think so. It started before that. But I'm scared and I don't want to keep feeling this way." 

She didn't want to cry; she wanted to focus on expressing herself clearly and honestly. But she could feel the tears not far away.

A few moments passed but they felt like an hour.

"Okay, kitten. I hear you. You're scared. Let's figure this out." his other hand closed over hers gently.

"Thank you." the tears were closer now.

"Would you like to talk at the apartment or are you more comfortable here?"

"Here."

"When did you start feeling scared?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. There was no going back now; she could only move forward to whatever conclusion lay in store.

"The First Gate."

"You've been scared all this time?" 

"Not scared as in terrified. More like anxious. On edge."

"Are you afraid of me? That I'm going to hurt you?"

She took her time to consider the question. 

"No."

She realized it was the truth, and felt relieved to know it. She didn't fear Robert - she couldn't conceive of him doing her harm. Not physical harm, anyway. 

"Good." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what's making you scared."

"I think it's lots of things."

"Name them."

She took another deep breath. The tears came.

"I'm scared of not having control of anything. I'm scared of not knowing what's next. I'm scared of all the changes in my life."

Her voice broke and she tried to compose herself. Robert was quiet; his eyes didn't leave her.

"I'm scared of making you unhappy. I'm scared because I can't say 'no' to you."

"You can say 'no' any time, kitten. No consequences."

"No, I can't," she took a shuddering breath, "Any time you suggest something my brain starts coming up with all these reasons why it wouldn't be so bad or why it would be a good idea. Just by suggesting something, you make me want it too!"

She realized how crazy it sounded. Mind control was a lot to accuse him of, but how else to explain how readily and happily she had bent her life around his desires? How quickly she'd become everything he'd wanted her to be?

"Okay, let's forget about what I want for a moment. What do you want?"

Another long silence ensued. 

"I don't know what I want, Robert."

"What did you want before you met me?"

"To meet someone like you."

"Like me?"

"Strong. Gentle. Dominant. Sexy. Someone who would...control me. Love me and make me feel special and beautiful and secure."

"Do you still want that, or something different now?"

"I want you. I need you. But I don't know if I want this. The way that things are now."

"How do you want things to be?"

"I don't know. I just need some time to figure it all out."

There was silence in the car, broken only by the ticking of the car's flashers.

"How much time would you like?"

She took a long while to consider the question. 

"A few days, at least. Alone." the last word slipped out before she could stop it. But it was honest - when Robert was near her he filled her thoughts.




Twelve Gates Ch. 12



He turned and stared out the windshield at the dark road ahead. A few more minutes passed in silence.

"There are a few things I need to do in Calgary - things I've been putting off for a while. I'll hop a flight tomorrow. That should give you the time you need."

He was leaving? The thought filled her with dread. She had thought to spend a night or two with Grandmother to do some reflection - she hadn't envisioned him leaving the province altogether. Had she gone too far? Been too honest?

"How...how long will you be gone?"

"A week. Maybe ten days."

A long time. A dangerously long time. But it was too late to backpedal now. He was giving her what she asked for.

"Okay. Thank you."

"Did you still want to spend the night at our apartment? I could drop you off at Grandma's place on the way back." 

Was he eager to be rid of her, or was he trying to give her the space she said she needed?

"She'd be asleep."

He waited a few minutes more but she was silent. He put the car in gear and pulled back onto the highway. 

***

The drive home had been silent and uncomfortable. The elevator ride to the eighth floor had been silent and uncomfortable. The tension was unbearable as they stepped into the apartment.

It would have been awkward to walk around naked after all the negative emotion in the car, so she kept her clothes on and started to wash the dishes. She needed to stay busy, to have something to occupy her thoughts besides him. 

She couldn't imagine how she'd spend ten days without him. If it was ten days. Maybe he'd decide it wasn't worth coming back? No - he'd have to come back, for the coffee shop if nothing else. But he might have changed his mind by then. About her, about them. He'd ask her to move out...

She shook her head to clear it; the tears were too close. He wouldn't walk away just because of a little disagreement - he was too stable, too steady. And wasn't it mostly his fault to begin with? Still, she'd never challenged him so openly before...

Then he was behind her, his body close. 

She didn't turn around or look up from the sink.

She felt his hands on her hips. Warm hands. Welcome. She didn't step away from his grasp or tell him no, even when she felt his thumbs under the waistband of her yoga pants. Even when he slowly drew them down, leaving her in a skimpy green thong. She lifted each foot in turn and allowed him to remove the pants.

She didn't turn around. She was upset with him.

His hands gathered the bottom of her sweater and slowly pulled it up, baring her stomach, not stopping when he reached her midsection. She dropped the sponge in the sink and raised her arms, allowing him to pull the sweater over her head, then she resumed her scrubbing. She felt her nipples harden under her bra and the cool air on her bare legs caused a tingle between her thighs. 

She kept her back to him. 

She felt his hands on her shoulders, stroking, thumbs gently pressing the tense muscles on either side of her neck. Sending a shiver of pleasure down her back. Hot fingers caressed her nape, then trailed down her spine. Released the clasp on her bra. Pushed the straps off her shoulders. She dropped her arms and allowed the bra to slide to the floor. Her nipples were stiff and throbbing. Her sex felt heavy, swollen. 

His hot hands slid around her midsection and then up, cupping the undersides of her breasts. Squeezing gently at first but then firmly, possessively. She gasped. Her eyes closed. Her hand still clutched the sponge but no longer pretended to wash. 

His palms slid down, over her ribs, over her hips. He knelt behind her and his fingers caught on her thong, sliding it down and off. She was naked. Wet. His hot breath brushed the small of her back. 

His lips touched her spine, then lower, the top of her cheeks. Her tattoo. She heard him inhale through his nose, scenting her skin and her arousal. His hands slowly stroked their way up her legs, then down again to her feet. She felt a gentle tap on the inside of her ankle. She widened her stance immediately. 

Her mouth was open. Breathing rapidly. 

She felt one hand slide up between her legs. Caressing the soft skin of her inner thighs, so very close to her aching sex. Teasing. Sliding down again to her knees, then returning.

She spread further for him, hoping the easy access would entice his fingers. His touch slid over her thighs. Unhurried. Heating her and making her pant. She bent her knees into a wider stance, hoping.

She moaned quietly as his fingertips stroked over her full pussy lips, up to her smooth mound and then back down, returning to her thighs. Making her wait and want. 

She felt him rise to his feet. Heard the rustle of clothing. 

His arms slid around her naked waist again, pulling her against his bare chest. His warm skin against her back. The bulge in his pants pressing against her spine. She reached behind her and struggled with his belt, the button on his pants, the zipper. His pants fell and he stepped out of them. His briefs followed.

Her hand wrapped around his cock, loving the heat and the firmness. She wanted to turn and kneel, wanted him in her mouth, but he wouldn't release her from his embrace. He held her from behind, stroking and squeezing her breasts, tweaking her nipples.  

She was his again, as before.

Finally he stepped away, took her dripping hand in his and led her to the bathroom. Ran a hot shower. Scrubbed her back with a loofah. Washed her hair. Held her tight as they stood together under the soothing, steamy spray.

She escaped his arms and ran the soap over him, feeling his contours under her fingers. His neck and arms and chest and back. His legs and thighs. His lovely cock. She had to reach up to lather his hair, then pushed his head under the stream to rinse it. Stroked her hands over his now-slippery erection. Hugged him tight from behind, pressing her breasts into his solid back. 

Then they were in bed, still damp, hands busy. Her swollen clit trapped gently between his teeth as his tongue lashed it. Her lips sliding down over his cock, eagerly taking him as deep as she could. His hands on her tits, making her nipples tingle and hurt and throb. Moaning and gasping and grunting. Begging. Shudders and spasms, licking and swallowing.

Then she lay on her side, her head on the pillow. He was behind, pulling her against him.

"Promise you're coming back, Master?" she asked as she stroked the back of his hand on her belly. The anger was gone. The fear was receding.

"I'm coming back, kitten. You get some thinking done."

"What if...I want to make changes?"

"We'll deal with it."

She smiled and cuddled into him. No false promises, just a resolution to see it through. She looked to the days ahead with a mix of trepidation and a cautious optimism.



Twelve Gates Ch. 13



Author's note: many apologies for the unacceptable delay in getting this chapter up. The next (and final) chapter will be out within a week. Thanks again to everyone for your support.

*****

"You're not going to want to hear it, but most of this is your fault." Trina said, then raised the mug of coffee to her lips.

"My fault? Robert is the unreasonable one." Grey protested. 

The two were seated facing one another on a leather couch, sipping Trina's excellent coffee. 

Grey had tearfully dropped Robert at the airport early that morning, then made the drive to Trina's country home for a long-awaited chat. Trina had been kind enough to welcome her on a Sunday morning and without much advance notice. Bill had tactfully excused himself to the barn shortly after her arrival. Before long Grey had told the older woman everything about her anxiety, Robert and the Gates.

Trina was the only one she could confide in. She couldn't speak to Robert; he was the source of the problem. Her conservative family would be horrified to learn the extent to which she'd already submitted herself to him, so she couldn't share with them either. But Trina would understand, being submissive herself.

Or so Grey had assumed.

"Your fault." Trina repeated firmly, "You've completely abdicated your responsibilities in the relationship."

"What responsibilities? I've done everything Robert wanted. Isn't that enough?"

Trina took another sip and regarded Grey evenly.

"You didn't communicate. That was your number one job, and it sounds like you blew it."

Grey took a moment to down a mouthful of coffee and to consider Trina's words. She felt they were unfair, but didn't fancy the idea of an argument with a practising lawyer.

"Trina, I did communicate. He knew I didn't like the Gates."

"Did you ever say so directly?"

"Well... maybe not. But I told him the Gates weren't really necessary."

"That's not the same as saying you don't like them. You weren't expressing yourself clearly, Grey."

"I figured he'd be able to pick up on my feelings."

"Yes, men are renowned for their ability to pick up subtle emotional cues." 

The obvious sarcasm in Trina's tone stung Grey but she couldn't deny that the older woman had a point.

"Look," Trina's tone softened, "Let's not focus on fault. A better question is: what next? What is it you need from this relationship to make it rewarding for you?"

Robert had asked her something similar in the car the previous night. Grey brought the mug to her lips as she considered the question. 

"I love Robert. I love his control. I love the ways my life has changed since I met him."

"But you don't like the Gates, even though they're the instruments of that change?"

"I guess I like the results of the Gates, but not the idea of them. Does that make sense?"

"Maybe. You're saying you don't like the process, but you do like the outcomes?"

"Yes... I guess."

"So what about the process upsets you?"

"The unpredictability. The lack of control. I don't get any say in the matter. And it annoys me that he thinks he can just decide things without discussing them with me."

"Okay. So if the Gates were the result of discussion, you'd be more comfortable with them?"

"I think so, yes. I also want to know where the whole thing is leading. Learning his intentions one Gate at a time is frustrating and a little unnerving."

"Then Robert needs to hear that from you. Directly and clearly."

"What if he doesn't want to change?" Grey asked, afraid of the answer.

"Irrelevant. He isn't changing. You are."

"But... he said these Gates are very important to him."

"To be blunt, that's his problem, not yours. You need to start thinking about what's important to you."

"That doesn't sound like a very submissive attitude." 

"I disagree. Clear communication of your wants and needs is an essential aspect of submission."

Grey sat in silence for a few minutes, finishing the coffee and digesting Trina's words. It seemed contradictory to Grey to think that she could oppose Robert's will and still be submissive to him. But Trina's long relationship with Bill seemed to demonstrate the effectiveness of the approach. For them, at least.

"Is it weird that I want him to have so much control over me?"

Trina laughed.

"Weird? I know a man who can reach orgasm by pouring a litre of milk over his wife's naked body. I know a woman who voluntarily sleeps in a dog kennel on the weekends. I know a twenty year old who chooses to wear a diaper all day and all night."

"Uh... okay, that's pretty weird."

"I'm not sure there's any such thing as 'weird'. You need to live the lifestyle that suits you and meets your needs. If you want Robert to control some or all of your life, that's just fine. But you must ensure it's happening in a way that makes you comfortable and happy.

"So what's the best way to communicate this to Robert? Do I just come out and tell him?"

"That's one way. That's how Bill and I do it."

"What about a contract?" Grey said, revisiting the idea of the slave contract she'd seen on a blog.

Trina paused to consider the question.

"A contract would work to establish a starting framework. It isn't a substitute for clear, regular communication but it would get the ball rolling."

Grey nodded as the notion took hold. "I like the idea because I could take my time and organize my thoughts. When Robert is near me it's sometimes hard to think clearly."

"From what I've seen, you have a similar effect on him." Trina said.

Grey blushed, recalling the erotic photo shoot and its passionate aftermath.

"So what kinds of things should go in the contract?"

"Depends. What kind of relationship are you looking for?"

Grey and Trina discussed the details over a second cup of coffee and throughout the morning. Trina proved to be an excellent sounding board for her ideas and thoughts; Grey was thankful to have found a friend and mentor in the older woman. When Grey left just before noon, she had a better idea of what she wanted for herself. She hoped that Robert would be agreeable to what she had in mind.

***

A week later, at mid-day, she was waiting when he emerged from the arrivals gate at the airport. The sight of him filled her with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Her high heels clicked on the floor as she walked up to him.

She'd chosen a yellow sundress for the occasion, cut high at the hemline, showing plenty of leg and even a little bit more if the wind hit it just right. She'd been choosing her own clothes for the entire week and had to admit to herself that Robert's tastes had rubbed off on her to some degree; left to her own devices she still chose dresses instead of pants. Today especially she had dressed with him in mind.

She had carefully planned what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. She hoped to deliver a message that was assertive but still submissive. Defiant but accommodating. 

It had been seven days since she'd dropped him at the airport and each day had felt like a month. At her request their contact had been minimal during the time apart - a few text messages and a phone call every night at bedtime. She'd wanted to focus on her own needs and feelings, not on him. In that regard she'd been mostly unsuccessful; thoughts of him were never far from her.

He saw her and broke into a wide grin, but his eyes held something else. Hesitation? As she approached those eyes seemed to be reading her, trying to determine what changes the week had brought. 

She plunged into his embrace heedlessly and he wrapped her up in his arms. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled him, his familiar, welcome scent. Only then did she realize how terribly she'd missed him. She clung to him a little longer than she'd intended. When she stepped back it was only to press her palms to either side of his face and pull him down for a deep kiss. 

She felt him relax into her, all sign of hesitation gone. She looked into his brown eyes and now saw only hunger, affection and warmth.

"Please never leave again, Master." she put emphasis on the last word.

"Not unless you're with me, kitten."

She hugged him close again, delighting in the feeling of his arms around her.

They walked hand in hand to the parking lot and he stowed his luggage in the car. She handed him the keys. She preferred it when he was behind the wheel.

As he navigated the twisting, tortuous roads around the airport she made light chatter; how she'd finished painting all the apartments, how the contractors had finished laying the flooring in the coffee shop. He filled her in on his business in Calgary - he'd promoted a manager to junior partner of his moving company to reduce the administrative load, met with his parents and both were well.

It was only when he hit the highway and didn't need all his focus on the road that she brought the conversation around to the most pressing subject. She didn't want to wait until she was at the apartment with him; she knew that once she felt his warm hands on her body, her resolve would be replaced by lust. 

She needed to establish some new norms for their relationship before that happened.

"I've given a lot of thought to what I want, Master." she began. She'd rehearsed in her mind the entire conversation at least fifty times over the last week.

"I'm glad to hear it, kitten."

"First, I have to apologize. I did a lousy job of communicating. You asked for the Complete Truth and I never once gave it to you. I'm very sorry, Robert."

His right hand reached over and squeezed her knee.

"I forgive you completely and wholeheartedly, kitten."

"Thank you Master."

"But you're still going to get a spanking."

"Yes Master." she'd expected something similar. A part of her was almost eager to be naked and bent over that bar stool.

"And I apologize to you as well, kitten. I never wanted to scare you. If I'd been paying closer attention I might have been able to read your feelings before everything came to a head."

"I forgive you Master."

"Thanks."

"Do I get to spank you too?"

He chuckled. "Uh... no."

"Not fair!"

"Life's like that, kitten."

She lifted his hand from her knee and kissed it, then took a deep breath. She knew the next part of the conversation might be tense.

"There are some things I want to change between us, Master. Are you willing to listen to my thoughts?"

"I'd love to hear them."

"I wrote a draft of a 'slave contract'. Remember we discussed it a few weeks back?"

"Please say there's nothing about sex with animals."

"No. I decided I could trust you at least that far."

He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "So, what's in the contract?"

"I have it in my purse. I want to read it to you."

"Sounds excellent."

She took out the neatly folded page and drew another deep breath. Would he laugh it off? Reject it? Ignore it? She began to read.

"One: Robert is the Master of the household."

"I like it already! Where do I sign?"

"Master, this will take forever if you interrupt after each sentence."

"Sorry, kitten."

"One: Robert is the Master of the household. He can propose rules and assign tasks as he sees fit. It is expected that Grey will obey him unless, in her opinion, there is a compelling reason not to. Where there is a disagreement, Robert and Grey will discuss it and reach a consensus. If no consensus can be reached, Grey will make a decision and Robert will accept it."

"This sounds pretty official. Are you sure I don't need to have my lawyer look at it?"

"I had Trina advise me on some of it." she admitted.

"You asked a lawyer to help you write a slave contract?"

"Don't worry. I simplified the language so you'd understand it, Master." she said sweetly.

"Nice."

"Two: Robert will assume a leadership role in Grey's life, including the disposition of her body, diet, living arrangements, dress and sexual activities. Before making any decisions regarding any of these areas, Robert will discuss the proposed changes with Grey and obtain her consent. Grey has the unlimited right to refuse without consequence any proposed change. She also has the right to initiate changes to any of the above areas, with or without Robert's awareness or consent."

"Trina didn't bill us for this, did she?" he said.

"Master!" she scolded, "Are you taking this seriously?"

"I am, kitten. You really went to town on this. How long did it take to write?"

"It took all week. And it's going to take that long to read it to you if you keep interrupting."

"Sorry. Continue."

"Three: Grey will retain sole control of her own finances. Grey and Robert will formalize the financial relationship between them to fairly compensate Grey for her work on the apartment and elsewhere."

"I was never after your money, kitten."

"I know Master. But it made me nervous anyway."

"Fair enough, I suppose."

"Four: Robert may discipline Grey for breaking his rules or for any other reason as he sees fit. Robert will decide on the means and severity of the discipline. Prior to beginning any act of discipline, Robert will outline for Grey all corrective steps to be taken. Grey may refuse without consequence the proposed discipline in whole or in part, and her decision in this regard is final."

Robert made as if to say something but Grey silenced him with a warning glance. She decided to press ahead and get through all the articles; there would be lots of time later to discuss the contract with him in greater detail. She needed to give him an overview of what her expectations were for them going forward.

"Five: Robert and Grey agree to a respectful and monogamous relationship and will not engage in sexual or romantic activities of any kind with other people."

"Six: Robert and Grey will communicate openly and truthfully at all times."

"Seven: any changes to this contract must be negotiated by both parties in advance. Grey retains the unlimited right to cancel this contract immediately at any time."

"Wow - really impressive, kitten." he said with genuine admiration.

"Did you hear anything you wanted to question or discuss, Master?"

"It's pretty much the same as the relationship we have now."

"It is... except that now you'll have to involve me in decisions. No more surprises. And I have a veto."

"And what of the Gates?" he asked.

Grey steadied herself before replying.

"You said the Gates were important to you, and as long as we're together, whatever is important to you is important to me... "

"I sense a 'but' on the way."

"But... I want them over with tonight. I want the Eleventh and Twelfth Gates tonight so that they'll be over and done with."

"We could just do away with them altogether, kitten."

"I wouldn't want to discard something that means a lot to you. Plus, I already know I'm going to pass both Gates, so let's just get it done."

Robert was silent for several moments as he considered the implications.

"If I agree to everything you just said - the contract and the Gates - will it alleviate the fear you were feeling before I left" he asked.

"I think so."

"If it doesn't, you'll tell me right away instead of waiting twenty weeks?" his words were gently admonishing.

"Yes Master, immediately."

"Then I agree to everything. But I'd like to add some language to the contract, with your consent."

"Let me get a pen." she rummaged through her purse. "Okay, shoot." she put the paper on the dashboard and leaned forward to write.

"Eight: Grey agrees to abide by the following conditions whenever she is alone with Robert and not in a public area... "

"Wait... " she struggled to keep up with his dictation. Robert paused, then proceeded more slowly.

"First: she will be naked. Second: she will wear her collar. Third: she will assume and maintain whatever posture Robert indicates. And fourth: she will eagerly welcome any kiss or caress from Robert."

"Okay... I've got that written down."

"What do you think?"

"Well, we'll need to flesh out the particulars around what constitutes a 'public area'." she mused.

"Flesh out the particulars?" he groaned, "Hanging around that damn lawyer has absolutely ruined you, kitten."

She giggled and squeezed his hand. "I think I can consent to your additions, Master."

"Then it's a deal. I'll sign when we get back to the apartment." 

"Thank you Robert. It means a lot to me."

"So... does Trina have to notarize this or anything?"

She laughed at the idea as the car sped them to their apartment.

***

She knelt on the bedroom carpet, naked and collared as she had been told. Knees wide, back straight, hands crossed behind her, breasts thrust forward invitingly. A boldly submissive posture, and she felt its effects acutely. 

That familiar heat - the excited, wanton quiver inside her - had started even before they stepped into the apartment. Once inside, Robert had signed the contract as Grey eagerly shed her dress, shoes and bra. She wanted his warm hands, his lips, the hard cock that she could see bulging in his jeans. Wanted him with a hunger that transcended physical lust; he was a part of her and his absence had left her feeling incomplete. She longed to be joined to him again.

But Robert had kissed her sweetly and stepped away, sending her to the bedroom to kneel and wait while he showered. Leaving her wet and craving him, making her feel his control of her body and her needs. Needs that became more desperate with each moment that passed.

The shower stopped and her ears tracked him as he dried and brushed his teeth. He entered the room naked and damp and paused as his brown eyes locked onto her eagerly-presented form. She felt a delighted shiver as she saw the carnal hunger in his gaze. His cock was thick and half-hard, and she longed to coax it to full arousal with her lips and tongue.

But again he denied her, slipping past her and opening the closet. He rummaged around briefly and returned with a tiny box that bore the name of a jewelry store in gold stencil and was wrapped expertly in a pink ribbon. He sat on the edge of the bed patted the mattress next to him. She rose from her knees and seated herself beside him. She couldn't resist stroking his leg affectionately as he spoke.

"This is the Eleventh Gate, kitten." he handed her the small box, "I'll remind you that you can accept or refuse, it's entirely up to you."

"When did you buy this?" she asked in genuine surprise.

"A couple of weeks after you moved in. I saw it and knew it was perfect for you."

She took the box and carefully undid the decorative ribbon that sealed it. Inside was a gold chain with thin but durable gold links. A small gold lock in the shape of a heart fastened the ends of the chain. It wasn't long; it wouldn't hang from her neck - the gold lock would sit at collarbone level. She held it in her fingers as she appreciated the workmanship... and the strong symbolism.

"It's... a new collar, Master?"

"It is, kitten. The leather one isn't really designed to be worn in public. This one is... you'll wear it at all times, unless you're sleeping or showering."

She looked at him and found his eyes seeking hers, reading her, searching for a reaction. She could see in his face a flicker of hesitation, a trace of the uncertainty that she'd glimpsed at the airport earlier. 

She tried to visualize herself in the gold collar while out in public, how it would feel around her neck, the looks she would get from passers-by. Would they see it for what it was - a symbol of her submission to her Master? Or would they assume the heart-shaped lock was just a pendant and nothing more than that? From a distance the lock looked like an innocent piece of jewelry, but the closer she looked, the more lock-like it appeared. Anyone who got too close would see it for what it was - a lock and chain. But would the average person appreciate the symbolism? She chose her words carefully.




Twelve Gates Ch. 13



"This is beautiful, and the symbolism is SO true. I love belonging to you. I want to wear this for you all the time... but not in front of my family, if that's okay?"

"Who makes that decision, kitten?"

She hesitated before responding, knowing the answer but wanting her voice to be heard. She looked into his brown eyes. She hoped that clear, honest communication would work the way Trina said it would.

"You make that decision, Master, and I'll wear it whenever you say," she said, "But if you make me wear it in front of my family, I'll be humiliated in front of people I love and hurt that you ignored my feelings." 

He looked briefly surprised at her candour, then broke into a warm, wide smile. He leaned in and pressed a hot kiss to her lips.

"Okay, not in front of your family, then. And if there are other situations where you'd rather be without it, I want you to let me know. Your feelings count, kitten."

"Thank you, Master. Can I put it on now?" her voice was relief mixed with excitement.

He chuckled at her eagerness and helped her remove her leather collar and fasten the gold one into place. The tiny lock clicked shut, and Robert showed her how to release the lock using a tiny button on the back. She went to look in the bedroom mirror and admired the collar and her nipple barbells, then turned to view the kitten silhouette tattoo on her lower back. His marks on her. Tangible symbols of her love and devotion to him. Wearing them made her feel warm, secure and owned.

"Wait... what jewelry store sells things like this?" she asked, suddenly struck by the thought.

Robert came up behind her and embraced her from behind as she stood in front of the mirror. She watched her reflection as his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them firmly.

"You'd be surprised what's in some of those stores... " he said, winking at her in the mirror.

"I'll have to pay closer attention." 

He laughed and continued to enjoy her breasts. She loved the feel of his hands on her private flesh.

"That's the Eleventh Gate passed, then." he said softly into her ear.

"Yes, Master. Thank you again for the collar - it's lovely and I love wearing it for you."

"And you look lovely in it, kitten."

She smiled into the mirror and watched a gentle blush rise to her cheeks at the compliment. He smiled at her shyness and kissed the side of her neck, sending a delighted shiver down her spine.

"Now," he continued, "Bend over the bed with your legs straight and your hands flat on the mattress. If I recall, you have a spanking coming?"

The words filled her with a mix of apprehension and excitement. It had been a long time since her last spanking but the memory of it was still vivid.

"Yes Master." she took the position he directed. Bent at the waist, her rear felt exposed and her nervousness increased. But her arousal was impossible to deny; her sex felt swollen and wet and her breathing was coming faster already.

"Tell me why you're being disciplined this afternoon, kitten." his voice was gentle but firm, a tone that compelled her obedience and added to her desire.

"I didn't tell you the Complete Truth, Master. I should have been more honest about my feelings right from the start. I'm sorry." she hoped Robert could hear the earnest regret in her voice.

"And this isn't the first time I've disciplined you for this, is it?"

"No Master." her mind returned to the lines he'd had her write on the night of the First Gate. 

"So we're going to practice now. Tell me how you feel right at this moment - the Complete Truth." he said.

"Well... nervous."

SMACK

His hand came down hard on her well-presented backside, causing her to gasp at the painful sting. She remembered to maintain her position.

"The Complete Truth. How do you feel at this moment?" he repeated.

"Nervous... embarrassed... a little sore now where you spanked me."

SMACK

SMACK

"Again, kitten."

The pain from the swats mingled with the rising heat inside her. She searched deeper inside herself for a response that would satisfy her Master.

"I'm embarrassed to be getting a spanking for bad behaviour. I feel kind of silly bent over like this. My bum feels like it's burning. I feel... hot."

SMACK SMACK

SMACK SMACK

"Again." he said in an even voice.

"Oh, Master... that REALLY stings. It hurts... but feels good, kind of. I'm getting wet." she found the words coming more easily.

SMACK

SMACK

"Being spanked turns you on?" 

Even with the worsening pain from her ass and the growing arousal inside her, she realized that his words were only partially true. 

"It's not the spanking, Master... it's you... your control... the way you handle me. The way you are... and the way I am with you. I love it so much. Love you. And... I want you so bad."

SMACK 

SMACK

"That's what I want, kitten. I want the truth that comes from deep inside you."

"Yes Master. You'll have it from now on - I promise!" 

SMACK 

SMACK

The final two swats were the hardest, but then Robert was gently stroking her bare behind as it throbbed and spread a wet heat through her pussy.

"That's good, kitten. We're all done now." he said gently. He helped her stand and hugged her tight and suddenly it was all she could do to hold back her tears. Her anxiety and apprehension and all the unspoken fears of the past week drained away as he held her in his warm embrace. They stood together for several minutes, until she felt composed enough to speak again.

"Could I please have the Twelfth - and final - Gate, Master?" she said softly.

He smiled, then bent to plant a wet kiss on the side of her neck.

"I don't suppose it could wait until after I've made us some dinner? I didn't eat on the plane."

"That would be fine, Master."

"And you're going to spend some time in the corner while I'm cooking, to reflect on this lesson. Clear?"

She nodded her agreement and savoured his closeness and his touch until at long last he broke the embrace and led her hand in hand to the living room. As she stood with her wrists crossed at the small of her back and her nose pressed into the corner, she felt the oddly reassuring weight of her gold collar around her neck... the Eleventh Gate done. An hour, maybe a little more, and the Twelfth Gate would be behind her as well.



Twelve Gates Ch. 14 - Conclusion



Author's note: thank you for joining me on this journey. This was my first attempt at writing a real story, and I owe its completion to the kind words, constructive suggestions and unflagging support of the thousands of people who have taken the time to read, vote and comment (or maybe it was one really obsessed fan who read my story thousands of times. Either way...). I would also like to express my appreciation to the staff at Literotica who have done such a great job in providing a place for new writers to get their feet wet. This is the conclusion of the Twelve Gates saga. I will begin a new story soon. Again, I thank you all humbly and sincerely.

*****

Naked and blindfolded, her wrists bound together and lashed to the headboard of their bed, Grey waited. Her knees were slightly raised and spread wide, presenting her smooth sexy lewdly in the empty room. Robert had tied her, spread her open and then left the bedroom to wash the dishes, admonishing her to hold the position, leaving her wet and eager and wanting him. 

And waiting for the Twelfth Gate.

He'd promised to give her the Gate that evening at her insistence. After more than five months of anxiety and excitement, the wait was almost over. She wanted to pass the Gate to satisfy whatever need had compelled Robert to devise them. She was dying to learn his true motives, and it bothered her that she'd been forced to discover them in bits and pieces through the Gates. 

No...not forced. She'd chosen to pass each one. And if she'd been bothered by the concept of the Gates, then part of that was her own fault for not communicating properly. Trina had made her see that, and Robert had driven the point home with a painful spanking just before dinner.

And she couldn't deny that the Gates had transformed her in ways she still found difficult to comprehend. The lonely, timid, self-conscious office worker of six months ago had blossomed into a smiling, sexy, self-employed woman who wore flirty dresses with heels and sported nipple piercings and a cute tattoo. Had Robert wrought those changes in her? Or had he merely tapped into something that had been there all along? 

The clattering of the dishes stopped and she knew Robert would be returning soon. She spread her knees a little wider, hoping to entice him into spending some quality time with her pussy. After seven days of neglect it was eager for the attention that only her Master could provide. 

She heard him enter the room. Felt his presence. Whenever he was close to her, his proximity drew all of her attention. He filled her awareness. He was at the night table next to the bed, rooting around in the drawer where the condoms were kept. The thought caused a ripple of need to course through her. She longed for his cock...in her mouth or her ass. Or perhaps tonight she would feel him in her hungry pussy...

She felt the bed shift as he lay next to her on her right. Felt his cotton t-shirt against her ribcage, his track pants against her hip. Being naked while her Master was fully clothed had become commonplace in the apartment, and she'd grown to love it. Loved the hunger in his eyes when he looked at her, loved being open and available for any caress from his warm hands. Loved the feeling of being sexy and desired.

Suddenly his mouth was on hers and she raised her head, eagerly seeking more contact. His tongue slid between her parted lips and touched hers, gently probing and teasing, never hurried. She yearned to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer but with her hands bound she could only lick and suck on the invading tongue. Too soon, he pulled back and left her panting and flushed with need.

She felt his hot hand on her belly, then he slowly slid it lower until it rested on her smooth mound. She'd shaved it meticulously that afternoon before picking him up at the airport; she wanted it silk-smooth for his pleasure and hers. The heat of his hand on her most sensitive skin caused her pussy to thicken and ache with need. She spread wider and lifted her hips slightly, hoping to encourage him to move just a little lower...

His warm hand was replaced by gently stroking fingernails. With agonizing slowness they trailed down her mound and lightly over her labia, not penetrating, just grazing the surface. Lower still to her perineum, then making a slow, feather-light return trip to the top of her mound.

"Oh Master...please..." she moaned, loving the intimate touch but needing more contact, more pressure. Instead his fingers continued their leisurely tease.

"Feels good, kitten?"

"So good. I missed you so much."

"Next time I want you to come along. My parents want to meet this amazing new woman in my life."

"I'd like that." she said, and it was true. Robert had met her family, it seemed only fitting that she would meet his as well. 

His teasing caress continued in silence for several moments more. She felt her temperature rising as her body came alive under his fingers. She tugged gently at her bindings and found them secure. The enforced feeling of helplessness only added to her arousal. When had she become this way?

"Can I tell you a little story, kitten?" he asked in a soft, low voice.

"Yes Master. I'm not going anywhere."

He chuckled, then was quiet for a few moments, as though composing his thoughts.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved being in control," he said a storyteller voice, "More than liked it - needed it. This boy dropped out of high school because he couldn't stand all the rules. He became an entrepreneur because he hated having a boss. He moved out of his parents' house when he was a teenager because he wanted to live on his own, by his own rules."

Grey was awash in the twin sensations of his voice and his fingertips. Rather than competing for her attention, they mingled and augmented one another, wrapping her in a sexy and sensual mood. She was silent as she waited for him to continue.

"As a young man, he discovered that a need for control works well in the business world...a lot of the time, anyway. But when it comes to romance, not so much."

One finger parted her slippery folds and slid up to her clit, giving it a quick tickle. She gasped and her hips jumped off the mattress in search of stronger contact. The tormenting finger then slid lower to her rear hole. Then back up again, slowly swiping up and down between her sopping lips. She could feel the tightening inside her...the slow build towards an orgasm. She needed more. 

"His love life was one train wreck after another. Things would always start well when he was on his best behaviour, but as he got more comfortable with a woman, his need for control would drive her crazy and she'd leave. The young man was over thirty before he had a relationship last longer than 6 months."

She felt two fingers slide through her slick cunt and lightly stroke up and down, one finger on either side of her swollen clit. Not touching it but coming desperately close. She felt the telltale trickle of her juices between her rear cheeks.

"Keep your hips still, kitten." he admonished gently, and she realized they had been lifting and twitching and rolling of their own accord, following his teasing fingers.

"Yes Master." she breathed, struggling to keep still amid the onslaught of wonderful sensations.

"Finally, by fighting every natural impulse he had, the young man was able to keep a relationship alive for eighteen months. He got engaged at thirty-five. But his fiancee left him two months before the wedding. Too controlling, she said. She was probably right." 

Grey could hear a faint trace of pain in the admission. Slowly the pieces were starting to fall into place.

"So he decided to change his approach. Instead of trying to change his nature, he set out to find a woman who loved his control. He didn't want someone who would tolerate it or endure it, or humour him. He wanted to find a woman who truly would love it. Crave it."

"Uh-huh." she breathed, partly to acknowledge his words and partly because his two fingers were now grazing either side of her engorged clitoris.

"But he was in his mid-thirties, and he wanted a family. He didn't have time for a series of lengthy get-to-know-you relationships. He needed a way to zero in on exactly the kind of woman he was looking for. A way to improve the odds."

"So you...he...posted the ad online." she said between hard breaths.

"Please don't interrupt, kitten." he scolded gently. His fingers left her slit and she felt them slide into her mouth, wet and fresh with her scent and taste. She closed her lips over them and sucked and tongued them, delighting in the lewd act; hoping he would return his attention to her needy clit.

"The ad got a ton of responses at first, most of them just looking for fun and some clearly looking for money. So he...I...had to find a means to quickly disqualify the women who weren't absolutely serious about a relationship with the real me. Thus, the Twelve Gates."

He removed his fingers from her mouth and continued his slow two-finger stroking of her clit. She bit her lip as the waves of pleasure washed through her core.

"I deliberately made the Gates unreasonable, as you discovered early on, kitten. Only two women passed the handcuffs and blindfold test at the Third Gate. And only one passed the Fourth. Just you, kitten."

"Not surprising." she said. Having her nipples pierced for the Fourth Gate had been scary and painful. No wonder the other woman balked! Grey still didn't fully understand what had compelled her to go through with the piercing. 

"And you were everything I wanted...I could see that almost right off the bat. Shy and kind and loving and honest and trusting. A lovely young woman, inside and out. After Bill's photo shoot I knew you were the one I wanted so I figured I'd back off the Gates...give you the option to refuse them without penalty. But you kept asking for them...and passing them...so I figured I'd let it continue. What harm was there?"

She felt two thick fingers slip between her labia and slowly push into her hot pussy. The change in sensation caused her to gasp as he stretched her and hit all the right spots inside her tight channel. He drew his fingers out and pushed back in - her sex made wet sucking sounds as his fingers entered and left. The obscene noise embarrassed her and spiked her arousal. Her scent was obvious in the still air of the room. Every stroke drew a quiet grunt as she started to fight against her urgent need to cum.

"But just when it was going so well...the unpleasantness of last week happened. I'd finally solved the 'too controlling' issue only to be torpedoed by poor communication. I couldn't believe it. All week I was upset...kicking myself for not having seen it."

"Sorry...Master..." 

"Me too. It was as much my fault as yours. You weren't talking, and I wasn't listening. Bad combination."

She felt her control beginning to slip as his fingers carried her to the very edge of orgasm. Just as she made up her mind to beg for it, he withdrew his fingers and again she welcomed them into her mouth. She knew he was intentionally prolonging her sweet torment, enjoying her need for him and his control over her body's most intimate functions. Bound and helpless, she could only accept whatever he decided for her. She sucked his fingers hungrily as her soaking slit throbbed and cried out for attention.

"Which brings us to the Twelfth Gate." he removed his fingers from her mouth and started stroking his nails lightly over her inner thighs and pussy lips.

"Please Master!" she breathed, not knowing herself whether she was begging for the Gate or for sexual release. 

"I'm hoping you'll agree to marry me, Grey. That's the Twelfth Gate."

Sudden emotions flooded her, so intense that they pushed aside even her desperate arousal. Shock, joy, confusion, love...and...a subtle feeling of resistance. From deep inside, an unexpected, unwelcome opposition to the idea. Something within her drew back from the notion of marrying him. 

She realized she had to give an answer to such an important question but needed time to sort through her jumbled thoughts and feelings. She opted to stall.

"Hold on...THIS is how you decided to propose? With me naked and tied up and...messy...in bed?" she aimed at a tone of mock outrage.

He laughed. "No, I decided to propose over champagne and dinner in a restaurant with a lovely diamond ring and maybe a violin playing. But then a certain someone decided that everything had to happen TONIGHT and not in a few weeks like I had planned...so I had to improvise."

"Well, I had no idea that the Twelfth Gate would be so..." she trailed off, having run out of words. She urgently took stock of her feelings, trying to pinpoint the source of her unease. She loved him. Trusted him. They shared a strong mutual attraction. He was gentle and warm and kind to her. He treated her with respect. Her family accepted him. So where was the problem?

A few moments passed in silence. His fingertips hadn't ceased their sensual stroking of her lips and thighs, and with the initial shock of the Twelfth Gate over with, the sensations began to impose themselves on her body again.

"Kitten?" 

"Yes Master?" she replied, still unsure of what to say or think or feel.

"I want to know what's inside you right now. The Complete Truth."

She took a deep breath and reached down deep inside herself. Somehow being blindfolded made it easier. She decided to start with the simple part first.

"I'm hot and dripping wet and eager for your fingers and your lips...and your cock. It's been so long and it's so hard to wait. I'm also...glad that you shared your reasons for the Gates. It answers a lot of the questions I had. And I'm relieved to finally have the Twelfth Gate revealed..."

"I'm glad to have set your mind at ease," he said patiently, "Now tell me the rest."

She paused, letting her thoughts take shape.

"I'm not sure exactly what 'the rest' is right now. I'm...happy? Honoured? Afraid? Overwhelmed? I feel pressured to give you an answer to your proposal but I honestly don't know what to say."

There was silence. His fingers continued their gentle caress. As the moments stretched on, she felt compelled to continue.

"I mean, I love you, Robert. I can't imagine my life without you in it. I love your control...the way I am around you...all the ways you've changed me. And there have been so many changes..."

And then it struck her - the reason for that deep-down resistance to his marriage proposal. She knew the Complete Truth at last. She forced it out, fearful of his reaction but determined to get it right. Aware that it could all end very badly.

"So many changes, Master. I quit my job, moved in with you. Started renovating the apartments. There were piercings and tattoos and collars and leashes. New ways of eating and dressing. Being bound...and...photographed. Being naked all the time and always wet and always wanting you. Every couple of weeks there was a new...and drastic...change in my life."

The words were coming easily now, rushing out of her unfiltered.

"After all these changes, I just want to stop for a while...to catch my breath. I want to stop the changes and just let things be the way they are right now. I'm sick and tired of change, to be honest."

Robert stayed silent. His stroking fingertips had become a hot hand rubbing her belly in slow circles.

"If we get engaged then there's a wedding to plan and invitations and bridal showers and fittings and shopping and picking out china patterns and a million arrangements. And you want a family which means you're going to want...babies! I can't even imagine all the changes that babies bring...and...I haven't even decided if I WANT babies." 

She felt herself becoming emotional, tears welling behind the blindfold. With her hands bound, she wouldn't even be able to wipe them away.

"So...I guess my answer is...I can't pass the Twelfth Gate, Master. Not tonight, and not soon. I'm so sorry to have let you down." 

The rejection seemed to hang in the air after she'd spoken it. She felt desolate; after all the weeks and all the Gates, she'd failed to give the man she loved the one thing he truly wanted. On the brink of tears, she was helpless to do more than wait for his reaction. She'd told the Complete Truth at last, and she felt miserable.

The silence stretched over several minutes. His hand continued to stroke her belly and she felt grateful for the contact. He hadn't pulled back...at least not physically.

At last he released the buckles on her blindfold and gently removed it. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to meet his gaze, afraid of what she'd see reflected there.

"You didn't say 'no'. I think you said 'not now'. Have I got that right, kitten?" he asked in a gentle voice. 

She didn't detect any bitterness or anger in his tone, so she risked opening her eyes. She saw in his soft brown eyes no trace of resentment at her rejection. A flood of relief washed over her.

"Not right now," she agreed, "There's no rush, right? I mean, I'm not going anywhere..."

"Me neither." he was quick to add.

"Then...how about we leave the Twelfth Gate open and waiting? When I'm ready, I'll tell you. Would you be okay with that?"

He smiled, then kissed her again, a soft, slow, loving kiss. His fingers found their way between her legs and began to rekindle the fire inside her. She wanted to embrace him but her bindings again thwarted the desire. She was, as always, subject to his control.

"I'm okay with it. It will give us time to work on our communication, I guess." he said. She could see in his eyes that he meant it and wasn't just putting on a brave front for her. It wasn't what he had wanted...but it was enough for now.

She smiled up at him, a genuine smile of love and trust and relief. 

"Thank you Master."

His fingers were skillful on her clitoris and within moments she was again fighting to keep her hips still and her orgasm at bay, taking deep breaths in an effort to maintain control.

"So...since we're not making wedding plans...yet...how shall we spend the time?" he asked with a mischievous wink.

"Mmmm. I have an idea, Master."

"Oh?"

"Well...there's another Gate that is open and waiting..."

"Really?"

"Move your fingers down an inch."

He did, sliding two digits into her wet, welcoming pussy.

"Oh, right there!" she purred, "It's been waiting for you for weeks...months. Why won't you enter?" 

It was a question that had tormented her since the Third Gate. He enjoyed having his cock in her hands and mouth and ass, but had never entered her pussy. 

"Isn't it traditional to wait until marriage before having sex?" he asked in his teasing voice.

"You don't strike me as a traditional kind of guy." she countered.

He chuckled, then leaned down for another kiss. His fingers worked in and out of her dripping sex, sending pulse after pulse of ecstasy through her core.

"Maybe I want to leave something to the imagination. Doesn't abstaining from vaginal sex make me seem deep and mysterious?" he asked.

"Yes...the mystery was whether you were impotent or gay, Master." she shot back in a teasing voice of her own. "Early on, I mean. I don't think that now."

"Impotent...or gay?" he repeated, feigning indignation.

"Yes. Quite a mystery indeed. It did leave a lot to the imagination, exactly as you intended."

"I'm starting to think the Complete Truth is overrated." he said ruefully.

She laughed and gasped and moaned; joy and relief and desperate lust made an intoxicating cocktail. His fingers were relentless and the love and humour in his eyes bound her heart to him.

"Then why don't you...do it?" she asked.

"It?"

She locked her gaze on him. "I want your hard cock deep in my pussy, Master. Please!"




Twelve Gates Ch. 14 - Conclusion



"Okay. Since you asked so nicely."

"That was it? I just needed to ask?"

He laughed, then kissed her nose.

"The truth is, I knew you were inexperienced, kitten, so I wanted to expand your horizons a bit beyond straight sex. And I love your talented mouth and tight ass. And the knowledge that your poor pussy was wet and hungry and eager made me want to save it until last...something we could both look forward to. A milestone, kind of. So I figured it would be special to save it for the Twelfth Gate."

She took a moment to digest his explanation.

"THAT'S why you made me wait all this time?" she didn't know whether to kiss him or try to bite him. "That has to be the most..." 

Her sentence was interrupted by his wet, pussy-favoured fingers sliding into her mouth again.

"...Romantic thing you've ever heard?" he finished for her, "Why thank you, kitten. I knew you'd...YEOW! NO BITING!" he yanked his fingers from her suddenly dangerous mouth.

"Master," she growled, "Fuck...my...pussy." 

"Yes ma'am." he said with a wry smile, then rolled off the bed. He quickly shed his shirt and track pants. 

She loved his body; a labourer's body - solid and powerful and toned. The sight of his half-erect cock triggered a powerful craving to have it inside her.

"Please...in my mouth first. Let me make it hard." she begged, her voice filled with genuine need.

He looked at her warily. "No biting?"

"I'd never harm that lovely cock," she promised, "unless for some reason I was unhappy with you."

He laughed, then set about releasing her wrists from bondage; he was always careful about leaving the ropes on too long. When she was freed, he positioned himself on all fours above her, his knees on either side of her head, his face above her smooth slit. He slowly lowered his cock down to her waiting mouth.

"If you bite it off, it's going to take me a long time to grow another one." he warned, but she had already engulfed him, taking him deep in one stroke. When he was just half-hard she could take his full length and she eagerly did so, encouraged by the appreciative groan from deep in his chest.

After a few skillful strokes his cock had grown to where she could no longer accommodate it all in her mouth so she used her tongue to press and stroke and rub the places that she knew from experience would drive him wild. He held his hips steady, allowing Grey to control the depth of his cock.

The first touch of his tongue to her over-stimulated clit almost set her off. She sealed her lips around his shaft and moaned loudly as she fought for control. He sensed how close she was and used his mouth sparingly, a quick touch to her clit followed by long, slow licks along her swollen, salty lips. After a minute or two even that threatened to push her over the edge; her control was taxed to the limit.

"Master...please...now." she gasped around his cock.

He quickly spun around so that his head was above hers, his hips between her widespread knees, his gaze holding her own.

"Don't look away. I want to see your eyes when I go in." he commanded. She could only nod, waiting...wanting.

She felt his cock against her wet lips. They parted to allow him access and she drew breath sharply as the head penetrated her. She reached up and held his face in her hands as he slowly pushed forward, filling and opening her. She fought the urge to close her eyes and lose herself in the sensations as the two of them were joined. At last he was in as deep as she could take him. Hot and thick and throbbing in her tight sheath. 

"Thank you Master." she whispered, her gaze still locked on his.

"I love you, kitten." he replied.

He slowly withdrew, then pushed forward again with a little more force but still controlled, contained. He continued to stroke in and out gently...too gently.

"I'm not a virgin, Master. You can go...a little harder." she breathed, flashing him a shy smile. 

He returned the smile and increased the pace and the strength of his thrusts. She could feel the friction of him against her clit and all through her depth...every nerve singing as he brought more of his strength to bear.

She could feel an orgasm brewing deep inside, building up for a whole different kind of release. Abruptly he stopped and rolled off the bed, snatching a condom from the night table. He opened the package and had it on in no time.

"I'm getting close" he winked, then grabbed her ankles and dragged her so her hips rested on the edge of the mattress. She spread her legs and pulled them back, opening herself, exposing her dripping sex. 

He wasted no time, impaling her in one rough stroke and fucking her with abandon. She lay on the mattress and looked up at him standing over her, his eyes on hers, the muscles in his arms and chest and abdomen flexing and straining with the vigorous ride he was giving her. Powerful and beautiful. 

She reached the edge quickly and knew she couldn't hold it long; the speed and depth and angle of the penetration were hitting all her good spots. The pent-up lust and need of the past week reached a tipping point. Panting and gasping, she fought to hold on long enough to get the words out.

"I can't hold it...I need to cum so bad, Master...please?"

"Cum, kitten." he grunted.

Her climax hit her, forcing a loud moan from her. It was one of the best kind, starting deep inside her and spreading quickly through her core. She felt her pussy gripping him, spasming around his thickening cock as he thrust deeper, pounding her hard and almost painfully. 

His eyes were closed now, his own release close. She loved to see him this way; out of control, yielding to the power of her sex and her body. Surrendering himself to her in a way that was raw and primal. He roared as his orgasm started, gripping her legs too hard and thrusting too roughly into her inviting sex. She barely noticed the discomfort, and wouldn't have wanted it otherwise in any case. This was Robert at his most elemental. Her lover...her Master. 

****

Later, after the shower and gentle washing and stroking; after the whispering and nuzzling and cuddling in bed, they lay together in the darkened room. She was on her side and he was pressed against her from behind, one arm pulling her close to him as he drifted into sleep. She idly stroked his forearm, her mind at ease. The Gates were behind her at last and in the final analysis she had to concede she was better for the experience. Stronger. More confident and assertive. More certain than ever that Robert was exactly the man she'd hoped he would be, and that she could be the woman that he'd hoped to find. She looked ahead to the future with a confident optimism. 

Grey slept with a smile.