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Identity

By: rikaaim



Jake sat on a cozy, wooden bench looking at the ducks swim on the lake. Passing in front of him was a young couple. Jake watched with interest as they left his field of vision. The ducks flew to a shelter. White clouds cast a shadow over the lake. As Jake was leaving, strong hands pressed on his shoulders. Warm breath ran down his neck as whispered words entered his ear.

"Which one?"

Jake turned to see the affectionate stranger, but the voice continued.

"Uh un. Not until you tell me which one you were staring at. I saw you. The guy or the girl?"

"I'm not sure. They were both great looking. I thought he was really cute, but I could do her in a heartbeat."

"Heh. That's funny. I thought just the opposite."

The ducks waddled into the water. The sun shone once more. The grazing lips left Jake's earlobes. Free from restraint he rose to see the stranger's face.

"Brad. I thought it was you."

"Eh, what can I say? I was intrigued."

"Yeah, you're also late."

"Late? Nah. I've been watching you for a while. From right over there."

Jake turned crimson red.

"What now?"

"Well, that's entirely up to you. You wanted to meet me. You wanted to know. I didn't think you had the balls, but you're here. That's a good sign."

"I'm still not sure."

"I know. It's your call. I'll tell you one thing though, if you call it off, fine. But if we start, we finish. Even if it's only this one time."

"Yeah."

"So, what now?"

"Let's head back to my place. I got some stuff for dinner. The very least I can do is feed you."

Jake and Brad left the park and went to Jake's loft.

In the kitchen Jake had sautéed onions with sirloin steak cooking. The skillet hissed with each new hint of spice. Brad sat on the couch watching Jake cook.

"Hey, Jake. Got any drinks?"

"Yeah, I'll mix us up something."

Jake brought out the drinks and joined Brad on the couch.

"It's on simmer. I'll let it finish for just a few more minutes."

"So, what made you want to do this?"

"I already told you.

"Yeah, but I want to make sure."

"I'm curious."

"C'mon, curious doesn't cut it. I'm curious about the weather in Mexico. You don't see me rushing down there."

"Yet you came all the way here."

"Well, I'm curious."

"Uh huh. I remember exploring. I somehow found how enjoyable anal was. I don't even remember the first time I did it. I just know that soon I was taking hour long showers exploring all that I could. My mom would always yell at me for using all the hot water."

Jake relaxed on the couch as he sipped his drink.

"I better get the food off the stove."

Jake prepared the plates and set the table. As the men sat down to eat Brad asked, "So, did it feel good?"

"Good? It felt great. I clearly remember having anal orgasms. I never felt anything so intense just surging throughout my entire body."

Brad looked pleased.

"Have a seat. Dinner's ready."

While they ate Brad resumed the conversation.

"Anal's all well and good, but what about men?"

"At the time I thought liking anal made me gay. I didn't know any better. I never really was attracted to guys. All I knew was how good that felt."

"Seems simple enough. You're not gay."

"It seems that way, but there's always a nagging, a need to know. It's complicated."

"The divorce?"

"That's not the only reason. It was weird. When I slept with her it felt like work."

"But did you want to be with a man, or just another woman?"

"At first just another woman. I just wanted to get away from her, but that was a bad marriage. I don't want to get into it really."

"No. We won't. You don't have to."

"After it was all done, I was with another woman. It was only a one night stand, but it was amazing. Her curves, her breasts, the taste of her sweet pussy. I tell you, I could have eaten her all night long. I nearly did."

"You know, you're not really convincing me."

"I know. That was right after the divorce. Rebound sex basically. We both got what we wanted and that was it."

"No strings. No teary good byes. Let's fuck, thanks, see ya later. But without the later."

"Exactly."

"So, what's up now? Why now? What makes you think you're gay or bi even?"

"I don't know exactly. All I know is that when I see a young, cute guy I get all excited. I look at the frame, the muscles, and defined cheekbones. I start to think back to how good it feels to be penetrated. It's not just that though. I see a firm jawbone and I want to caress it. I want to be pulled in tight by strong arms. I want to be bent over and taken."

"Mmm."

"You like that idea?"

"Yeah, but I was referring to the steak."

"Ass."

"Not yet. Maybe later."

"Anyway, since the divorce, I've grown even more confused watching porn. I've watched the same movie tons of times. One day something was just different. There was the beautiful model I was used to, attracted to. At the same time I found myself looking longer and longer at the stud. I remember him standing there, tall, defiant, and in control. She submitted to her knees as she drew him into her mouth. He leaned against the wall, showing off his muscles. I saw his hard cock and wanted to suck. I wanted to be the one on bended knees. Seeing his stiff cock, waiting to be devoured by a set of warm, slick pair of lips set me off. I couldn't resist. I masturbated to that same movie time and again, but that one time was the start of something different. That time when he squirted her face, I wanted it to be mine. I wanted his essence dripping off my lips. I shut off the tape and headed to my bed. I propped myself on my back and gave myself the facial that he couldn't. I swallowed all that I could. I wanted more though. I needed more. I needed the real thing. I can't watch a movie now without being turned on by both the man and the woman."

"Sounds like you can use some guidance."

"That's why you're here, I hope. Every time I think of being with a guy all these thoughts rush through my head. I think of how 'wrong' it is for me to want that. I don't even know if I really want it. I'm just curious is all. I think of how disappointed all my friends and family would be. I don't think any of them would support it. I know they certainly wouldn't 'understand' it. Besides the most important influence in my life says it's wrong. The Bible says it's 'detestable' in the eyes of God. I'm not even sure if it's what I really want. I just don't know. I do, physically, but mentally it doesn't seem right. At the same time I can't stop thinking about it."

Brad polished off his plate as Jake finished speaking.

"We all have our demons to face. It's not easy. You do have support though. You just have to know where to look to find it."

"I better clean up these dishes. Was it good?"

"It was wonderful. Thank you."

Jake took the plates into the sink and turned on the water. As he began to scrub, Brad slithered into him like snake. He pressed tight into Jake. He held Jake firmly by the waist as he moved his lips to the base of Jake's neck.

Jake's body melted like warm butter in the tender care of Brad.

"You like that?"

"Y-yes."

"This is your last chance to back out."

"I—I just don't know. What does it all mean? What am I then if I do? What will people think? What about God? What about..."

"Fuck them. Labels mean nothing. You're you. You're Jake regardless. It doesn't matter. What do you want? What does Jake want?"

Jake turned around and looked into Brad's eyes. His aching body begged for liberation. 

The conflict on his face dissolved as he pressed his lips to Brad.

Quickly Brad embraced Jake with all of his strength. Jake was like a paper doll in his arms. Brad allowed Jake's tongue to enter his mouth and explore.

Jake parted from Brad and took several deep breaths.

"I—I should finish cleaning."

"Leave the mess. It'll be fine for a while. I'm ready for dessert."

Jake turned the water off and met with Brad once more.

Brad accepted Jake as their lips locked. His hands cupped Jake's ass and squeezed. Jake squirmed into Brad. His hard cock strained for freedom. He could feel the same want in Brad.

Brad released Jake's ass and slowly started rubbing his thigh. He teased his crotch as he felt his way up Jake's shirt. Brad kissed Jake's neck as he un-tucked the polo shirt. He felt Jake's toned body under the cotton cloth. He raised his head to read Jake's reaction.

Jake leaned against the kitchen counter. His eyes were wide with passionate bliss.

"Take off your shirt."

Jake lifted the polo tee. Brad watched eagerly as the smooth skin of Jake was revealed.

"You have a great body."

"Thank you."

Brad let his hands adventure around Jake's chest and stomach. He planted small pecks along the neck of Jake. He was soon licking his chest. Jake ran his hands through Brad's hair as he went lower. Jake braced himself on the counter when Brad sucked on his aroused nipples.

While Brad's tongue flicked like a hummingbird's wings, his hands went to work unzipping Jake's khakis.

Jake's stiff dick eased forward in his boxers. Brad's moist breath crawling over Jake caused him to lean further on the counter.

Brad wriggled Jake's pants down to his ankles. Jake stepped out of the lowered khakis and kicked them across the room. Brad rubbed Jake's legs feeling every muscle twitch at his attention.

He worked his way up Jake's legs and gave his hard dick a long, firm stroke through his satin boxers. In a fluid motion he teased his way up Jake's chest. He drew him in for a deep kiss. The men's tongues danced as their bodies meshed together.

Jake unbuttoned Brad's shirt and savored the feel of his chest. Jake pinched Brad's stiff nipples. A quiet moan escaped from Brad. Jake's hands swiftly worked down to Brad's waist. With excited anticipation Jake unzipped his pants. As Jake tugged the pants off of Brad's waist, he felt Brad through his cotton boxers. Before Jake went further Brad guided him back up to eye level.

"Let's go to the bedroom."

Jake led Brad down the narrow hall to his room. As they entered the bedroom, Jake turned on two lava lamps sitting on opposite nightstands.

"Cute."

"Hey, give me a break. I know there a little childish, but I still like 'em."

"I meant your ass."

Jake smiled.

A blue hue from the lamps fell on the broad shoulders of Brad as they slinked into bed. Brad pulled at the waistband of Jake's boxers. Jake lifted his hips while Brad eased off his shorts. Brad ran his fingers over Jake's lithe body. While his fingers roamed, Brad watched the delight grow on Jake's face. Faint at first, Jake's moans rose to Brad's touch.

Brad lingered around the tip of Jake's wanting cock. Jake let out a loud moan as his pent up tensions grew. Playfully Brad stroked. He felt the subtle contours and ridges that was Jake. When he sensed Jake couldn't take the enticement of teasing, he curled his hand around Jake's stiff dick and squeezed, sliding up Jake's shaft.

Jake looked up at Brad and pulled him into a kiss. Brad braced himself as he straddled Jake. With his hand still working, he met Jake's passion with a fevered pace. His gentle touch soon grew rigid and purposeful. Jake threw his arms around Brad and curled his legs around Brad's back. Brad pressed further into Jake.

Jake fumbled for the drawer of his nightstand. As it edged open he reached inside and pulled out a bottle of lubrication.

He reached down to Brad's working hand and moistened his cock in unison with Brad's movements. As Brad continued to stroke, Jake lost control. His face radiated like the blinding desert sun. Brad slid his hand faster on Jake's cock. 

Jake's eyes became glassy and glazed. His hips bucked hard into Brad. Breath held, body tight, he lost himself as Brad pulled the orgasm free. Jake slammed down on the bed and moaned a primal release. His breath returned labored and slow. His cock twitched recovering.

"Wow. I can't believe that. I—I still can't breathe."

"Well, you certainly got my boxers plenty dirty. I guess I'm just gonna to hafta take 'em off."

"Wa-wait. Let me. Please."

Brad moved to Jake's side. While Jake stammered up Brad eased under him.

He snuggled in between Brad's legs. His finger tips drew paths across Brad's chest. He kissed Brad's stomach and moved lower. He lifted the band on Brad's boxers and took in the sight of his first man. He freed Brad from his boxers and grazed his inner thigh. Brad relaxed on the bed and allowed Jake to know him.

Jake's thin, soft lips brushed along Brad's dick, feeling his smooth shaven skin. Jake dipped down to taste Brad as he rubbed the inner crevice of Brad's thigh.

He lapped shyly at Brad's tip. Brad ran his hands through Jake's short cut hair. Jake licked longer down Brad's cock and savored his taste.

When Jake kissed back up to Brad's head, he took in his first small mouthful. He was careful to cover his teeth as his tongue massaged the most sensitive area of Brad. He slowly wetted Brad's stiff cock with his hot mouth. He eased Brad deeper into him. Delight spread through him as he heard the deep moans of Brad. Brad guided Jake up to his tip. Jake hummed his enjoyment as Brad gave over to his eagerness. The soft vibrations through Jake's lips sent shivers throughout Brad.

He gripped the sheets like a vice as his body lost control.

"Jake. Don't stop. You're doing such a good job."

Jake rose to his knees. He kept his head down on Brad as he leaned on his elbows for support. He wrapped his hand around the base of Brad's dick and sucked at the tip. He felt Brad about to burst. He stroked Brad's shaft while he inhaled the top. When he felt Brad ready to cum he lowered his head fully onto Brad's cock. Brad bucked hard into Jake.

"Fuck. Jake..."

Brad lost himself in Jake. Jake sucked Brad's cock from the base to the tip as it shot out Brad's load. Jake kept his lips tight around the tip of Brad as he gulped every drop. As Brad pulled free Jake dove back down on Brad. He slurped Brad up like a melting ice cream as he finally let him go.

Jake rested on Brad's glistening chest. He felt Brad's heartbeat slow to a normal pace. Brad put his arms around Jake and held him. Jake had small strings of Brad's cum hanging from his lips. Jake beamed contented and happy.

"Hey, c'mere."

Jake lifted his head to see Brad. Brad lifted Jake up to him and took in the remainder of himself. Jake pouted until Brad yanked Jake into a passionate exchange. Jake tasted himself on Brad's tongue as Brad gave himself back to Jake.

"I think I need a shower."

"Why? Getting messy is half the fun."

"I'm all sticky."

"I thought that was the point."

"Yeah, but I like to get wet too. You can join me in a minute if you like."

"Hmm. Sounds like fun."

"Just give me a second first."

"Okay."

Jake entered the bathroom and closed the door. He bent over the counter. He saw his comb placed neatly on the right side of the sink. Sequentially he saw his deodorant, razor, toothpaste, tooth brush, and mouthwash. His toothbrush was angled. He straightened it. After his fingers released the toothbrush, he snapped his head up and looked in the mirror. He turned on the cold water and splashed his face.

He shut the faucet off and turned on the shower. The steam filled the room and Jake eased into the misting water. He grabbed his bar of soap and scrubbed diligently. He concentrated on his hands, chest, stomach, and crotch. He took special care cleaning his face.

He set the soap down and heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Ya ready for me?"

"Yeah. It's okay. Just had to take care of something first."

Brad entered in next to Jake. Jake reached past Brad to grab his shampoo. Brad coiled around Jake and moved in for a kiss. Jake turned away.

"Wait. Let me wash my hair first."

"Your hair? It's fine."

"No! You don't understand. It's so nasty. I have to wash it. I have to keep it clean. I have to get clean. It needs to be straight."

Brad was shocked. He looked at Jake. Jake was starting to tremble.

"Jake. Put the bottle down."

Brad took the bottle from Jake and set it down. Jake was visibly crying. His head hung low. He looked empty.

Brad moved in close to Jake. He placed his hands on Jake's narrow shoulders. The water beaded off of Jake's back and poured over his head and down his face.

"Jake. I'm here for you. I'm here to help you."

Jake slowly lifted his head. His eyes were filled with fear and remorse.

"It's all over."

"What is?"

"The lies. The lies I told myself. I did a damn good job too. I'm just picky. Spending an hour getting dressed and prepared doesn't mean nothing. The way I stand. The way I hold a cup or fork. I believed it all too."

"What the fuck does any of that have to do with anything? That's just who you are. Why are you buying all this stereotype bullshit? If I go down the street no one thinks I'm gay. I don't 'seem' gay. Fuck them. They don't know me. I know me. That's what matters. They don't mean a fucking thing. Who are you Jake?"

Jake calmed down.

"I liked it Brad."

"Well, I would hope so."

"Just looking at you. Just feeling your skin on mine. The heat from you, the taste of you. Everything."

"What's wrong with that? I enjoyed you just as much."

"It's wrong. Isn't it?"

"Why?"

"Everyone says so."

"And who is everyone? Why are they so important? It's obvious that if this is all they care about they don't know who you are. You are so much more than sex. You are sexual, but who you have sex with does not make you who you are. What do you feel? Who do you feel?"

"Like me. Like this is who I am."

"So, they either accept you, the real you, or they don't. That's all that can happen. Regardless of them, you're going to find someone who loves all of you. You don't have to pretend."

Brad picked up the bar of soap and formed a rich, foamy lather. He washed Jake's chest and caressed the rest of his body. Jake stepped out of the streaming water into Brad's arms. Brad moved his hands down Jake's back. He fondled Jake's ass. He spread Jake's cheeks and let the soapy lather run through Jake's crevice.

"Now, I think you were telling me how much you like anal."

Jake raised his head and snickered.

Brad cleansed Jake's hole and turned the water off.

"Don't think. Just be. Get back in bed and let me give you what you've always wanted."

Jake stepped out of the tub and made a drippy path to the bedroom. Brad followed taking in the sight of Jake's wet, toned ass.

Jake plopped down on the bed.

"Roll over on your stomach."

Jake turned and lied on his belly. In an instant he felt Brad's tongue lapping at his cheeks. Brad spread his cheeks apart and kissed his way to Jake's hole. Jake gasped when he felt Brad's silk tongue broadly glide over him.

Brad moistened Jake's inner crevice. He gently parted Jake open. The gap allowed for Brad to continue his exploration. Jake eased into Brad's wet warmth. Brad kneaded and massaged Jake's cheeks like fresh dough. Jake's cock was hard and demanding as Brad teased.

Brad flipped Jake over and continued his oral feast. Jake pulled and tugged at Brad's hair.

Brad delved deeper. Jake moved his hands from Brad and started to stroke his tantalized cock. Brad stopped licking and smacked Jake boldly across his stomach. He moved Jake's hands.

"Not this time. That's my pleasure now."

He circled a finger around Jake's wet hole and slowly penetrated. Jake easily took Brad's finger. Brad lowered his lips around Jake's head. As he bobbed on Jake's dick, he inserted a second finger. Greedily Jake took it in. Brad stopped Jake's pleasure when he felt his cock fill. He removed himself from Jake and grabbed the bottle of lubricant form the floor.

He liberally coated his cock. He lifted Jake's legs to his shoulder's and rubbed his cock through Jake's ass.


Identity



"You think you can take me?"

"Y-yes."

"Let's see."

"I've been waiting my whole life for this. Just fill me. I need you to. Please, I've used so many toys. I need the real thing."

Brad placed his slick cock at Jake's entrance. He gently pushed into Jake. Jake eased over Brad like a sword in a sheath. Jake shouted in ecstasy as Brad's head hit the inner most part him. Brad pulled out of Jake. Before he parted, Jake slammed back into him.

"Fuck me. Please. Just give it to me."

Brad grabbed Jake's knees and lifted them high. Jake was tipped onto his back, almost on his head. Brad towered over Jake. He thrust down into Jake. Jake grabbed his cheeks and spread them wide. Brad tore into Jake like a wild bull. Jake moaned and lost control of his flailing body.

Jake convulsed and constricted around Brad's hammering cock. His own cock strained for release. Brad reached down and hand fucked Jake's cock. Brad's body stiffened as his muscles strained. His head tilted back roaring in pleasure. He lowered Jake down as he drove his cock deep into him.

When Jake felt Brad's hot cum surge through him, his own load gushed free. He erupted over Brad's hand like a geyser.

Brad set Jake's legs down on the bed. He remained inside Jake as he rested on his naked body.

Both men breathed labored. Brad kissed Jake after a moment of recovery.

"So, how do you feel now? Still feel wrong?"

"I feel—well fucked. That-was great."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I enjoyed you."

Brad smiled.

"So, which one?"

"Heh. Let me think."

Jake tapped a finger on his chin as he tauntingly pondered.

"Both!"

"Ass."

"Mmm. Definitely later."



Identity



by justtheone revised 12/15/2013

>> Inspired by the mysterious CG artist Thew's picture: American Eagle -- Costume Stolen

1.

She didn't even know this girl's name. Never encountered her before. She would have flat-out asked her, if she hadn't been gagged. The girl probably would have told her. Well, at least her villain name. They weren't shy about that. They wanted credit for their shit. They wanted to be famous. 

The plan was clear, anyway. Simple, straightforward—but those were always the best plans. 

Smarter than your average nutty supervillain then. That wasn't good. 

In a few hours, American Eagle was supposed to give a presentation to the world's leaders. There was an article about it on the front page of the paper, lying flat on the floor beside her chair. With her picture on it—and of course it was the one they always used that she didn't like, because of the fussy expression on her face. Making her look arrogant. She didn't want to seem that type. But what could you do? You couldn't control what they printed. Only made things worse if you tried to fight them. 

This villain was gonna go to the summit in her place, wearing her costume. And she would be taking the briefcase with her that was also on the floor, next to the newspaper. No doubt the girl had left it there deliberately, standing open to show off what was inside. Just to taunt her. Because it was full of explosives. 

Would people figure out the truth, if this bitch's plan succeeded? Or would they honestly believe that American Eagle had blown up the summit herself? They wouldn't, would they? People would have to realize it was really someone else, gaining access with her costume. No one would accept that she'd turned into a traitor. Not after everything else she'd done. No way. 

But God it was a scary thought. It made her feel sick in her stomach. Selfish of her—it should be the leaders she was worrying about. And all the other innocents that would be harmed. Instead she just kept agonizing over the chance of getting blamed. Made her wonder if she was truly worthy of her role.

It felt more and more like she wasn't. Maybe she never had been. 

And somehow the evil girl had captured her so easily, too. It was galling. She shouldn't have been able to do that, if American Eagle was really as great as she was cracked up to be. She'd been brought down before she even realized she was being attacked! Never got a chance to fight back. The girl used some kind of zapgun on her. Just one touch and she flopped right down on her face. Still conscious, but barely able to move. So the girl could pick her up and carry her off, easy as pie. Stuck her in the trunk of a car and drove her to this apartment building ... Now she had no idea exactly where she was. But it looked like one of the really old, seedy parts of the city, judging from the view out the window. Still, that didn't mean they were far from the convention center. Might be only a couple blocks away. 

"How do I look?" the girl said, twirling on her toes in front of her. She hadn't put on the red boots yet. She smoothed wrinkles from the leggings with her hands. The blue stuff wasn't latex—it was something more sophisticated—but it had a similar rubbery, shiny look. "Fits me quite well, doesn't it?" 

It did, sadly. The outfit fit her perfect, in fact. She had a blonde wig waiting for her on a mannequin head—once she put that on, and pulled the cowl up over it, no one would doubt her identity. Of course if you looked real close at the lower half of her face, where it wouldn't be masked, the details were all wrong. The shape of her lips and chin. But no one would notice, most likely. So long as she didn't get too close to anybody that knew the real American Eagle personally. And there wouldn't be anybody there that did. No other superheroines. Maybe a few cops or city hall bureaucrats she'd interacted with, from time to time—but nobody close to her. 

Things weren't looking good here. They weren't looking good at all. And she couldn't think of anything to try. The girl had trussed her up too well. The ropes weren't loosening at all, no matter how hard she strained and twisted. 

She wouldn't give up. She wouldn't let herself. She'd keep working on the damn things. But it wasn't looking very likely she'd ever break free that way, not on her own. Not in a hundred years. She was feeling pretty damn helpless. And that wasn't a feeling she was used to. Obviously she'd been in a good share of tight spots, since she started this career. That was the life. But never one this bad. Things had never got this messed up before. Not to this level. She was really seriously starting to lose heart. Never imagined that could happen to her. She'd always known she might fail sometime. Some stinker might outfight her or outwit her or get lucky. Because shit happens. Still, she had always told herself she'd go down swinging and swearing if that was how things turned out ... Only now her will to keep struggling was dwindling, more and more, worse and worse. Slow, but steady. Like air leaking out a punctured tire. Struggling seemed so useless, she just felt silly. She just wanted to give up and cry, instead. 

She wasn't gonna do that—but she wanted to. 

It wouldn't have got so horrible, if the bitch had just let her keep her undies on. But she hadn't. She'd stripped off absolutely everything. 

To make it worse, there was a mirror in front of her. So she could see herself in it. She didn't want to look, but it was right fucking there. And it was pretty ghastly. She looked real pathetic. The girl was good at this crap—the mirror was a fine touch. Mindfucking her. Doing a great job. And she couldn't fight it. She knew what was happening to her, but that didn't help. Seeing herself this way ... it was too much. Too dreadful. It wasn't something you could ignore or talk yourself out of feeling. 

She looked helpless and defeated and pathetic. Because she was. The mirror wasn't lying to her—it was showing her the plain physical facts. She was tied to a wooden chair, gagged, and utterly bare naked.

It was all done with one rope, linking her tied-together hands to her tied-together ankles. She couldn't even lower her feet to the floor—not without ripping her arms out of their sockets. She wasn't actually tied on to the chair itself, but with the way her arms were bent over the backrest, and her feet curled under the seat and suspended between the chair legs, she couldn't have stood up or even thrown herself sideways off the thing without bringing it with her. Twice already she'd toppled herself over on the floor, just from wriggling around. The girl had just laughed at her and made condescending "Tsk tsk" sounds, as she lifted the chair back upright. "You're gonna hurt yourself, if you keep doing that," she had remarked. 

So even though she was still tugging against the ropes, she stopped throwing herself around as violently, after the second fall. That one had hurt her shoulder. She might even have dislocated it, a little.

Why had the bitch taken her undies off? She didn't need them for what she was doing. She'd kept her own on, under the American Eagle suit. It was completely unnecessary, to make her prisoner completely naked. But she'd done it anyway. Just for fun, it seemed. Just to humiliate her. 

And it had worked. She wished it didn't get to her so bad, but it did. It really did. She couldn't handle this at all. 

She tried to tell herself it didn't matter. It didn't mean anything. It was no big deal. She was being a big crybaby about it for no reason. Just deal with it. Stop thinking about it. 

She couldn't. Not for one single second. 

It did matter. It did have meaning. It was a big deal. She was a superheroine! She was American Eagle—except actually she wasn't anymore, because her costume was gone. And all of her dignity and confidence with it. Now she was just a powerless prisoner. A naked girl, tied to a chair. She'd put on a bit too much eyeliner today—and even though she'd never quite broken down completely bawling yet, still her eye makeup had got a little runny, just from the few times she'd teared up in the last half hour. Gave her that melodramatic sad raccoon look, which she despised. She always just wanted to slap a girl, when she saw one let her eyeliner dribble like that. Now she wished she could slap herself. She'd transformed from an inspirational symbol of strength and goodness into an object of pity—if you were someone with compassion. Or to pick on, if you weren't. 

This girl had made a mockery of her. And there wasn't shit she could do about it. 

And being a laughingstock wasn't even the worst part of it. A naked superheroine in bondage isn't just a sad joke—that's not even the first thing you think of, is it? Not if you're honest. She's also a sex object. A kinky treat. At least for all the evil sicko perverts in the world—and sadly, the wide world has no shortage of those. All those twisted fuckers would love to see her this way. No question. All her enemies. All the criminals she'd put away. 

They wouldn't just point and laugh, if they saw her like this. They wouldn't just wanna ridicule her. They'd wanna do all sorts of other stuff. Dreadful things. Perverted things. Unimaginable things. Except the longer she sat here, staring at how she looked in that mirror—she was starting to imagine them. She couldn't help it, once she started. She was imagining those unimaginable things in vivid and visceral detail. 

Oh God. Dear God. 

You see, we all have secrets. And we all have a dark side. We all fantasize of things that embarrass us or even frighten us, from to time. Even the best and brightest of us. Even superheroines, believe it or not. In fact, some of them have darker dark sides than the rest of us. It can be part of what drives them—sometimes a very big part. They strive for goodness and purity, not just to better the world, but to better themselves. To try to purge their worst impulses, or if that's not always possible, to channel them productively. 

She had never told this to anyone, and she never would have. But American Eagle often had dreams like this—where she found herself bound as she was bound now. Her tits hanging loose and heavy, dripping with sweat. Her nipples stiffened and throbbing. And she couldn't even cover them with her hands. She could barely move at all ... A fluttering, almost hungry feeling inside her belly, and a maddening damp itch between her thighs, where she couldn't scratch it ... 

She thought of it as reoccurring nightmare. Yet those dreams weren't always bad. At least not entirely bad. She would never have admitted that. Nor did she understand why she got excited in those dreams, when it happened. But some nights, that's how it was. It didn't make sense, but you couldn't help what you felt, when you were asleep. And when you woke up from a dream like that, you either tried to figure out an explanation for it, or if you couldn't, you just buried the memories as best as you could. 

Now that dream had come true. This new villain, whatever she called herself, wherever she came from, the bitch had done this to American Eagle for real ... 

And it wasn't feeling like it did in the dreams—neither the bad ones nor the ones that weren't as bad. Because it was a mix. It was the conflicting feelings from both versions, at the same time. All jumbled together in her head, and in her stomach. 

Dear God. Oh God. 

"I've got some time to spare," announced the girl, "before I'll need to get going. We can play around a little, you and me. Would you like that, do you think? Shall we play around for a while?" 

2.

For a while, she tickled her with a feather duster. Not real feathers—a ball of pink fluff on the end of a plastic rod. But it worked well enough ... She applied it to American Eagle's ribs, and the soles of her feet. As tortures go, this was pretty gentle stuff. Compared to what other villains might have done with her, in circumstances like this—using electricity or drugs or power tools or God knows what—she knew she should consider this a blessing. But she didn't put up with it very well. She might have handled herself better against something nastier. She'd been through some special training for things like that, and knew meditation techniques to cope with pain. Those tricks turned out not to work any good against tickling. It drove her wild. Made it real entertaining for her captor. She'd never thought of herself as being a particularly ticklish person—but then again, she'd never been subjected to this kind of stimulation, at least not since she was a little child. So how could she have known? She would never have imagined it could feel this intense and excruciating—something so simple and silly as a ball of pink fluff, whisking around against her skin this way. But now, Jesus. It was like lightning. She shrieked and squealed, and her involuntary writhings knocked her chair over another three times. The villain just heaved her back upright, each time, and then she'd start up on her again. 

Most disgraceful of all, she eventually lost control of her bladder. 

"Oh yuck," her tormentor said, "Bad girl! Look at this mess!"

All she could do was whimper. 

But it stopped the tickling. Gave her a few minutes to get her breath back, while the girl sopped up the stuff with paper towels from her kitchen. When she was finally done, she went into the bathroom, where she'd left her own costume hanging from a hook on the wall, with her big black boots lined up neatly beneath it. American Eagle watched her hunker down to pull something out from a slot in the side of one of those boots ... 

American Eagle expected it to turn out to be knife, or maybe the wicked zapper device she'd used before. But that wasn't it at all, and she whimpered again. The girl had produced a really big purple dildo, with straps. Now she was putting the damn thing on, over the blue leggings she was wearing. American Eagle's blue leggings.

But God, it looked like she must go around with that thing hidden in her boot all the time! What the hell! 

She approached her now—she actually skipped up to her, with a giggle. Now she was waggling the end of it right up in her face, straddling her legs. "You like my toy?" She pushed American Eagle's gag down around her neck. Would it do any good to scream for help? She'd already been making quite a racket, while she was being tickled. The cloth hadn't muffled the noise hardly at all. 

"Suck it now. I wanna see you suck it. Get it good and wet, before I put it in you. You probably don't need the extra lubricant, but I wanna see you suck it for a while anyway."

"What if I won't?" 

"Then I guess I'll tickle you some more until you change your mind. Do you want me to tickle you some more." 

"No. I'll do what you want. But please. Before you do this to me, please take off my costume. I'll do anything you want—you can do anything you want to me and I won't try to fight you at all. Please just don't wear my costume while you're doing it. Please." 

"But this way's better. It's like you're just doing all this with yourself. You can pretend you're alone, safe and sound. Just masturbating. Don't you like masturbating in your costume sometimes? I do that a whole lot. Out on the rooftops at night, after a fight or a chase." 

"Please take it off. Please don't fuck me in my own costume. Please. You're ruining it. You're dirtying it. I'll never be able to put it on again if you do this. Please. I'll do anything you want." 

"But this is what I want. It's like I won't even be here—it'll be like you're doing this to yourself. Like your superhero self is gonna be fucking your real self ... Isn't that hot? I think that's pretty hot."

"Please! No! You'll ruin everything for me, forever. It will always feel dirty after this. I'm begging you!"

"But that's what makes it so hot! Sex is always best when it's dirty. And this is super dirty, isn't it? Super dirty superheroine sex. Suck this cock, American Eagle. Pretend it's your cock—and then it's gonna fuck you. Suck it to get it ready. Suck your cock."

"Please don't! Just tickle me some more! Please tickle me more instead!" 

"No, I want this now. I want this. Do it. Fucking do it."

She pushed it into her mouth. Oh God. There was no way to dodge it or fend it away. She couldn't even bite the thing—well, she could, but it didn't help, because it was only plastic. All that did was hurt her teeth. 

She was gonna have to do it. She was gonna have to give in. She hadn't sucked a cock in so long. Not since her new life began. Technically, she wasn't doing it this time—because it wasn't a real one. But fake ones can be scarier than real ones. They don't tire out. They always stay hard. You can't ever satisfy them. They might fuck you to death. 

"Yes! That's the way! Just like that! That looks perfect! That looks awesome! So damn hot! I love the way you're looking at me, with those big sad pleading eyes. So poignant, so adorable. Oh Jesus, I am gonna fuck you so good. You're the perfect ultimate prize, do you know that? I am gonna fuck the shit out of you."

She hoped she wouldn't come. She would try not to let the girl make her come, if nothing else. But the way she felt inside ... Oh God. If she was already feeling like this down in there before she'd been penetrated ... She couldn't imagine how it would be, when the thing was actually ramming inside ... Or maybe she could. Oh God. 

Things weren't looking good, were they?

"You know what?" said the villainess, "I think maybe I'll skip the summit. I'm not sure I'm in the mood for a bombing, anymore. Maybe I'll just stay here with you instead, so we can keep playing like this. Maybe we'll keep playing all day long, if you're up for it. So long as you can keep me entertained. What do you think, girl? Do you think you can keep me occupied, until the summit finishes? Are you brave enough and tough enough? I'm not sure you would be."

She didn't mean it, did she? Probably not. The evil bitch was only taunting her. Trying to raise a false hope. 

Still, it was a chance to save lives. Her only chance, at this point. False or not, she had to take it. She was obligated. It was her duty. 

God. This was so unfair. This was so shitty. No choice, though. None at all. She would have to cooperate. Fully. She would have to play along. And not just that—she would need to give this all she had.

Well, the evil bitch was gonna fuck her soon, regardless. This giant plastic cock filling her mouth was gonna smash into her pussy, any minute now. Oh God. Oh God. There would be no escape. She was going to be fucked. It was only a question of if she had the balls to fuck back on the thing. Did she? God, she had no idea. 

If she could give her tormentor a real show ... Keep the bitch engaged ... Which would mean properly engaging with her, so to speak. On the bitch's own terms. Not just lying limp and tuning it all out, as much as possible, with her meditation techniques. She would have to stay in the moment, in her body. And eye to eye with the bitch, all through it, every second, every motion. It would be very difficult. It would be brutal. But hell, that would be equally true either way. The mind tricks hadn't worked against the tickling. Hell, they hadn't worked for shit. She doubted they would work any better once this cock was reaming her out. 

She was so scared. Even worse than before. A million trillion times. She was terrified of the pain, when she was penetrated. She wouldn't be able to bear it. She was even more terrified there wouldn't be any pain. Because her pussy was wet and swollen and hot inside. From when she was tickled, when she peed. And also ... also from before, if she could be honest with herself. From all of this business, the whole dreadful game. It had got to her exactly like her captor must have planned. It had made her get wet. The whole time, in fact, she'd been tied like this, all naked to this damn chair. Her pussy had been dripping wet and swollen and burning inside this whole horrible time. It was so shameful. It was so damn dirty. To be turned on by this treatment. But she was. Oh God, she was. She was being forced to blow a dildo, and this evil bitch was wearing her costume, and she'd tickled her until it made her beg for mercy and wet herself like a little girl. And yet somehow all this dirty defiling shit had made her horny. She'd maybe never been this fucking horny ever before in her whole stupid ill-fated life.



Identity



It was just luck that let me find the handbag. You can determine what sort of luck it was. I was rifling through my purse while strolling through the park, hoping to find an extra couple of dollars in there, even though I knew there weren't any. Then a gust of wind blew my last solitary note out of my purse and into the bushes.

I had no choice. It was all I had. I scrambled into the bushes after it, cursing the spiky things as I pushed the branches away. I'd just snagged my errant note when I noticed the handbag. What would you expect me to do? I snagged that as well. 

I naturally assumed that it would be empty. A bag like that, thrown into the bushes? Some purse-snatcher getting rid of the evidence was my assumption, but it was a nice bag anyway.

There was a pleasant surprise when I opened the bag. It contained purse, phone and an iPod plus all the standard things in a ladies handbag. And the purse contained nearly five hundred dollars and a couple of credit cards and a driver's license. 

I looked at that license and it seemed to me that the picture could easily be a bad shot of me. On the spot I decided that I was Marie Henderson for the immediate future.

I had a ball for the next few days. The credit cards were those new ones that you just wave over the EFTPOS machines and they accept it, as long as you don't go too high. On the second day I had another stroke of luck.

I was snooping through the phone, looking at the various contacts to see if we had any mutual acquaintances and I came across an entry Carol Card and instead of a phone number it had two four digit numbers. The real Marie couldn't be that stupid, I thought, but I tried them out at an ATM and in turned out she could.

Over the next few days I managed to extract a nice little sum, wandering around the town and taking money and goods from here and there. I kept expecting the cards to be cancelled, but it didn't happen.

I didn't want to push my luck so I decided that I'd better dump the cards and things and go back to being me. But. And it was a big but. I saw this dress, and I really wanted it and the cards still seemed to be good, so I went into the shop and bought it in what was going to be my last purchase.

For some reason the stupid salesgirl was taking ages to process things and I was starting to get suspicious and wondering if I should take a hike. Before I could a hand closed over my arm.

"Marie Henderson, I believe?" said this voice. 

It was quite a voice, too. If rocks could talk they'd sound like this character, And I don't mean little rocks. I mean great big slabs of granite, which is something else this man resembled. I decided to bluff it out.

"Yes," I said. "Can I help you?"

"Didn't think you'd make it this easy for us to find you," he rumbled. "You'd better come along quietly. A lot easier for everyone."

"I don't know what you mean," I protested. "I don't know who you think I am, but I think you've made a mistake."

The great ape took this photo out of his pocket and looked at it and looked at me.

"Looks like you," he said. 

Then the arrogant sod snatched my purse and fished out the driver's license. He looked at the license, compared it to the card, looked at me and smirked.

"Yep!" he snapped. "Marie Henderson in the flesh. And quite lovely flesh it is, too. Come along, now, and quietly."

Next thing I knew I was being hauled out of the shop. I was too worried to protest too much, but I was quite vocal about it all. The man monster just dragged me over to this car and pushed me into the back seat and got in next to me.

"OK. It's her. Let's go," he told the driver and the car took off.

"I assume that I'm under arrest?" I said in a very small voice. As you can imagine I really wasn't very happy. I was about to become even unhappier.

My friendly thug just laughed.

"Don't you wish the cops had found you first," he said. "The boss wants a few words with you."

Boss? What boss?

"Um. I think you might have made a mistake," I told him. "I'm not really Marie. I just found her purse and have been using her stuff. I know I shouldn't have and I will pay it all back. Honest."

More laughter. Even the driver was laughing at that one. 

Why is it that when you want a cop there's never one around. The driver was speeding all the way to where we were going and I know he went through a red light. And does he get pulled over? Pardon me while I laugh. 

Eventually we finished up at this factory on the outskirts of town and the car pulled into a garage there. Thug One, as distinct from the driver, who I'll call Thug Two, hauled me out of the car and the car took off again.

"He's gone for the boss," Thug One said. "You might as well make yourself comfortable."

He dragged me into the factory and over to a room to one side. (Figuratively, he dragged me, not literally. I actually walked. Reluctantly, but I walked.) 

Once in the room he pushed me down onto this couch and produced some handcuffs and fastened me to the couch. Then he turned on the TV and sat back to watch a football game. I asked if we could watch something decent and he pointed out the game was on. What more could I want?

About half an hour later I heard the car arrive and Thug One turned off the TV.

"Company," he said, and went to get them.

He came back with Thug Two and a dapper little man who I assumed was the Boss. He took one look at me and scowled.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm not Marie Henderson," I said quickly.

"I can see that," he snarled. "What were you doing with her things?"

I was quite red-faced now, having to own up to my misdeeds. 

"I found her bag in the park last week," I said, "with all her stuff in it. She looked a lot like me so I thought I'd pretend for a while. I sort of used her credit cards a little. I kept expecting them to be cancelled, but it didn't seem to happen and I just kept on using them."

There was silence from the men as they all just looked at me.

"I'm frightfully sorry," I said nervously. "I still have most of the money I withdrew, and I will pay for the other stuff I bought."

The Boss looked at Thug One. 

"Smart little thing, Marie, and it worked out better than she could have hoped for. She knew we'd trace the cards and so she dumped them. This idiot finding them and using them was sheer gold for her. We've wasted a week here when we should have been looking elsewhere. 

Let's go," he added to Thug Two and turned and walked out the door.

"Wait," I called. "What about me?"

"Yes, Boss," rumbled Thug One. "What do I do about her?"

"Oh, fuck her," yelled the Boss. "Slap her on the bottom and send her on her way. She's not going to complain to the cops about us. She'd get done for fraud if she did. And take those damn credit cards off her. I hope Marie chokes when she finds what the idiot had spent."

With that the Boss stormed off with Thug Two close behind and a few moments later I saw them driving away.

Thug One turned to me and he had this big smile on his face. I couldn't see what he was so happy about. I found out soon enough.

"OK, honey," he said, a big cheesy smirk on his face. "You heard the Boss. Which do you want first?"

"What?" I said, having no idea what he was talking about. All the Boss had said was to let me go.

"You heard the Boss," Thug One explained, patiently. "He said, fuck you and slap your bottom and send you on your way. So do you want to start with the fucking or the slapping on your bottom?"

"Are you insane?" I shrieked. "He didn't mean it literally. He was just swearing at me and telling you to throw me out."

"Sorry," rumbled Thug One. "He said it and I always do what he wants. Safer that way. I'll apologise if I'm wrong. I reckon we should start with slapping your bottom. I figure being spanked after being fucked tends to ruin the moment."

With that the big oaf started to get undressed. I mean, he just stood there in front of me and stripped. I know I said he resembled a slab of granite, but that was before I saw him naked. Naked he resembled a furry slab of granite. And it was blatantly obvious that he was taking the Boss's offhand 'fuck her' comment very seriously. He certainly had the equipment with which to do it.

Now that he was naked, Thug One picked up his trousers and fished out the key to the cuffs and let me loose. Then he very kindly gave me a choice.

"Do you want to take off your clothes or would you refer me to strip you?" he asked me. "I don't mind either way, although it's always fun to undress a woman, especially if she's wriggling and squealing."

"I'd rather you just let me walk out of here," I told him. "It's what your Boss meant. Why don't you ring him and ask him?"

I got a look that implied I was insane. Ring the Boss just to ask if it was OK for him to fuck her? She had to be crazy.

"Look, if the Boss tells me to fuck you and I do, he has no problems. If he doesn't care and I fuck you, he had no problems. It's only when I don't do as I'm told does he have problems. Safer all round if I just fuck you. I said I'd apologise if I got it wrong. Now are you stripping or not?"

I was stripping. No way I wanted that grinning gorilla taking my clothes off. That doesn't mean I was stripping quickly. I took my own sweet time, hoping for a chance to run.

And I got one. I was down to a nervous pair of panties when my friendly thug turned aside for a moment. I bolted past him towards the door before I even stopped to think. I managed a good two steps before that maniac reached out an arm and just scooped me up.

"Naughty, naughty," he said. "That earns you an extra spank."

He turned and walked over to the couch, me tucked under his arm, my face about six inches from where his erection was sticking out. Not a pretty sight, when I knew what he was going to do with the stupid thing.

He sat down comfortably on the couch, draping me across his knee. I was feeling relieved that at least I still had my panties on, but that was more a wish than an actuality. 

I will admit he was innovative in the way he took them off. His hand slid under my panties, fingers spread to cover my whole bottom, and then he just moved his hand down around the curve of my bottom. He finished up covering my mound and squeezed it. Surprisingly gently, for such a big man. Then he pushed his hand down along my legs, stroking my inner thighs, and my panties just went along for the ride. 

Then he gave my panties a flick and I was completely naked, lying across the hairy thighs of a naked stranger, his cock pressing against my side. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate that his cock wasn't as hairy as the rest of him. It was not, I assure you, turning out to be the best day of my life.

The next thing I know, a great big hand has glommed onto my breasts and was rubbing back and forth across them, paying special attention to my nipples, rubbing them in little circles, apparently on the assumption that this would titillate me. And it did, damn it. I could feel my nipples hardening while he was doing it. I've always loved having my breasts touched. 

At the same time his other hand had returned to cupping my pussy. He started squeezing it softly, his hand rubbing along it, his fingers teasing my lips apart but not trying to push between them.

I promptly started squealing and wriggling and protesting generally. For my pains I got a slap on the bottom and told not to be in such a hurry. In a hurry? Was he kidding? 

So all I could do was lie there while his paws made free of my body. Trying to take consolation where I could find it I did note that at least he'd forgotten about spanking me. And if he managed to get me sufficiently worked up, maybe being fucked by him wouldn't be too bad. (I've heard some men give their cocks pet names. This oaf probably calls his King Kong. I was not looking forward to meeting it with thoughts of rapture in my head.)

I could feel warmth starting to burn within, and I knew I was getting wet. I was wondering how long a gorilla takes for foreplay when he suddenly took his hands off me.

"This is fun," he said, "but it's not getting the job done."

I was bracing myself, ready to be picked up and plonked onto his cock or something, when one of his hand pressed against the small of my back and the other came down so hard on my bottom I thought he was going to break it.

I screamed. It hurt. It really hurt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I screamed at him.

"Smacking your bottom," he said, sounding puzzled. "Surely you remember I was going to do that before I fucked you?"

"Then what was with all the groping," I protested.

"A bit of harmless fun before we started business," the brute said smugly, and then his hand descended on my bottom again and I screamed again.

It was a partnership. He spanked and I screamed. When he spanked harder, I screamed louder. At times I think he was trying to see if he could get me to squeal a tune, the way he kept varying the way he spanked.

He spanked me hard and fast and he spanked me hard and slow. Every so often he would stop and give my bottom a little massage, soothing it a little. By an odd chance, these little massages always seemed to flow over onto my pussy. Just often enough to keep the fires burning, and I'm damn sure he knew it.

For a while I thought my bottom would fall off, he was spanking it so hard, then I was wishing it would fall off, it was smarting so much. By the time he decided to call it a day my bottom was just a mass of burning pain. It was probably bright red and there was no way I was going to sit on it for at least a month.

When Thug One finally desisted and stood me on my feet I didn't even think of running. All I wanted to do was rub my poor bottom, and at the same time there was no way I was going to touch it. I just stood there looking up at the brute who'd been manhandling me, a tear in my eye.

He just smirked at me.

"I was going to ask if you've got a favourite position to be fucked," he said, "but I've decided I don't really care. By the way, if you want to squeal and wriggle and struggle while I stick it to you, feel free. It makes it interesting."

I promptly decided I would be totally silent and wouldn't move a muscle. Damned if I was going to make it interesting for him.

He turned me to face the couch and forced me to bend over it. OK. Maybe he didn't actually force me to bend over, but he indicated that I should, so I did. A tap on my ankles and I hastily moved my legs further apart.

Then I waited for the torment to begin.

Would you believe the swine just started gently stroking my pussy again? Instead of sticking it to me he just gently rubbed me and caressed me, slowly stoking the fires that he'd set alight earlier. I wanted to wriggle and squeal, believe me, but I just stood there, suffering, breathing hard.

I didn't wriggle when he eased my lips apart and slipped his finger inside me. I might have jumped a bit, but it wasn't a wriggle. And I may have squeaked a little but that was all. You can't really blame me. He had enormous hands. Boys have flashed cocks at me that were smaller than his blasted finger, and this was just the beginning.

He took his time exploring inside me, and his other hand was reaching around me playing with my breasts again. He was slowly but surely getting me all worked up again and there was nothing I could do about it.

Picking his moment, he stretched my lips apart, and I turned my head to try and watch as he pressed his cock against my opening. With that first pressure I decided I didn't want to watch after all and I looked elsewhere, but my eyes were wide open. Almost popping out of my head as I felt that thing entering me.

I promptly threw my resolutions out the window and I squealed and wriggled with the best of them as he slowly pushed into me. He didn't seem to care, just holding my breasts in his great paws while he just continued to push while I wriggled like a butterfly on a pin.

Thinking about it, I have to admit he wasn't hurting me. It was just the shock of having something that size stuck in me when I didn't want it. I don't care if my pussy was pushing back against him just as hard as he was pushing against it. Intellectually, I didn't want it.

As you can guess, my entire attention was being rapidly focused onto my pussy and his cock. Everything else was becoming incidental to the fact that I was female with a pussy and he was male with a cock. And then he gave one last push and I was riding him. 

I suppose I should say that he was riding me as I was bending over and he was covering me like a blanket, and starting to pound into me. Have you ever seen the finish of a horse race with the horse going flat out and the tiny jockey up on top of it bouncing up and down for dear life, urging his horse on?

That was what it was like, but I was the tiny horse and he was a giant jockey and that was a hell of a spur he was sticking me with. He was slamming into me and I was pushing up to meet him, scared of what might happen if I lost the rhythm. I was vaguely conscious of him mauling my breasts as he rode, and I later found bruises like fingerprints on them.

But like I said, things like hands mauling my breasts were incidental to the main event, which was his cock thundering back and forth, wreaking havoc on my delicate nerves. He didn't seem to slow down or speed up at any stage. He apparently had one speed when it came to the gentle art of lovemaking and that was full steam ahead.

Not that I was complaining. Well, I was, but only verbally. My whole body was bouncing under the power of his thrusts and absolutely revelling in it. I'd never been fucked like that before. It occurred to me that I'd been missing out and that I'd really have to speak to my boyfriend about his style. (That thought came after the event. I wasn't thinking anything coherent while that cock was in me, blasting away.)

Thug One kept pounding into me, driving me rapidly towards a climax. I could feel it coming and I welcomed it, because that would be the end of it and I could go home.

I'm rather naïve at times. I just screamed and let my climax wash through me, loving the feel of it and the relief it brought with it. But did I have time to relax and savour the glory of it?

Thug one didn't even fucking slow down. He just kept powering along, my climax totally irrelevant to what he was doing. Apparently when he fucks someone, they really get fucked. He continued pounding my pussy, his cock sliding in and out with these great long strokes, pulling almost all the way out and then charging back home, his testicles slapping hard against my pussy with each thrust.

I've heard that if you hit a man in the testicles, he crumbles. The way Thug One's testicles were slapping against me I'd say it wouldn't happen to him. They were tough enough to be used as a punching bag. And big enough, from what I felt slapping against me.

On the few occasions (very few) I've had a second climax the second one has always come very quickly after the first. Today was no exception. I could feel it gathering force while Thug One went his happy way.

This time when my climax hit I clamped down so hard on the oaf's cock that he had no choice but to come. I held it locked in my passage while he erupted and flooded me.

Afterwards he just turned to me and told me to get dressed and he'd take me back to town. Or to where he picked me up, anyway. 

So I finished up the day my old self again. I don't know who Marie Henderson is, but I wish her luck and hope she never finds me. I just about maxed out her credit cards.



Identity



Krista woke from her dream with a gasp. She couldn't remember the details, but the heat emanating from her body and the moistness between her legs were indication enough that it was another erotic dream. She sat up and threw her legs off the bed angrily. There was no reason to be sitting here horny like this. No reason at all. She was a free woman now, and after a solid two years with no sex she deserved to be royally fucked.

But she knew it wasn't that easy. She might be separated from her husband now, living in her parent's guest room, but she was still too painfully shy around men to just go home with one for meaningless sex. No, it looked like she'd just have to satisfy herself once more with her own fingers. She stared out the window wistfully, wondering how she could have allowed herself to get to this point.

Not that she'd ever had men lining up to date her, she reminded herself. Even in high school she'd been a little too plump, a little too nerdy. Now at the age of twenty-nine, she felt like she'd missed the boat. Without realizing it, she'd become her own mother, nearly middle aged and round of hips, with the same mousy brown hair and general shape, same overbite and pale skin, same bad eyesight and tiny breasts. Krista tugged at the threadbare gown she'd had to borrow from her mother, wishing it didn't fit so damn well on her. Tomorrow she'd go back to her house and get some decent night clothes.

She stood and reached for the robe at the foot of the bed, another of her mother's garments. The full length mirror by the wall reflected her image in the dim light, and she wasn't happy with what she saw. With her hair in curlers, she might as well have been looking at her mother. But at least her mother had a man, and not a bad one at that. Krista smiled as she thought of her Daddy, how just that evening he'd told her she was still a beautiful young woman, somehow knowing she'd needed very much to hear that. It'd been a long time since she felt beautiful. Then again, she'd always been a Daddy's girl. She pulled the robe closed and left her room.

She needed masturbation, but she needed the comfort of a snack first. The house was quiet. Daddy had fallen asleep in front of the television again. Krista shut off the television then threw a blanket over her father's sleeping form. He was still a handsome man even at sixty, a full head of hair even. Though now most of that hair was gray instead of black. Sure he had a pot belly and didn't trim his beard neatly, but who couldn't love such a kind-hearted person? Krista felt very warm as she entered the kitchen, and she wasn't sure it was entirely the sultry spring air or the glow of affection that heated her. She decided to fry an egg and got the carton from the refrigerator.

Krista considered herself a fairly competent cook, and it was a task she truly enjoyed. She smiled at the memory of cooking pot roast for her father the night before, the way he'd smacked his lips and ate three helpings, the way he kept saying he'd have to kiss the cook. Mom had thought it cute, too. She got out the butter, salt and pepper, then opened the cabinet to look for the small frying pan. Mom kept the pots and pans below the counter, so she had to stoop over and almost stick her head in up to the shoulders in order to root around inside.

She heard the creak of floorboards and a heavy tread. It could only be her father. He was headed to bed, she reckoned. The footsteps paused at the kitchen doorway. Krista moved the large stockpot aside under the counter, only dimly aware that the footsteps were coming closer. Just as she closed her hand around the small frying pan, a heavy hand touched her ass.

She almost jumped and banged her head but caught herself in time. Before she could react to the surprise of being goosed, the hand began to caress her ass in slow circles. Krista froze. She knew whose hand that had to be. She just didn't want to believe it. Or maybe she felt it was too good to be true. In either case she was still frozen, struggling for the words to tell her father that it was she, his daughter, not his wife, that he was fondling, when the hand left her ass. She sighed and began to back out from beneath the cabinet, but then her father's hands were on her hips, both sides, gripping tightly, and she heard him groan as he pressed his pelvis against her.

Krista froze again as she felt a throbbing hardness nestle between her ass cheeks. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, dropping the pan with a soft clatter. "Shh," she heard her father say. "Don't make too much noise."

Oh, my god, thought Krista. He thinks I'm Mom. He's going to...

To what? She wondered.

He groaned again and ground his cock against her, and despite her slight revulsion Krista found herself grinding back against him. It had been so long since she'd felt the loving touch of a man, just too long. Her father's hands slid up her sides and came around to the front to cup her small tits in each palm. She realized suddenly just how hard her nipples had become. He pushed against her even harder, and she swore she could feel every vein in his cock. Her husband's dick had never felt that hard. Never. Nor as large.

She was in the midst of wondering just how big her father's cock was when she felt cool air on her ass. He'd flipped up her gown and robe, and since she wasn't wearing panties he now had a clear view of her pussy. Krista knew she was blushing, ashamed that her father was looking at her that way, at her privates. A moment later her eyes rolled in her head as her father's fingers delved into her moist slit, parting the lips and tweaking her clit, the thumb entering her wet hole and fucking her a few times.

When her father took his hand away she spoke without thinking, saying "Don't stop."

Yes, she wanted it. She wanted her father's touch, needed it. He chuckled, and he touched her pussy again...but this time it wasn't his fingers. Krista gasped and tightened her ass cheeks as she felt her father's hard cock poke at the entrance to her pussy. No matter what, she couldn't do that, couldn't let him fuck her, couldn't have...incest.

He held onto her hips and pushed forward, and he moaned. It was the moan that did it. The sound of her sweet Daddy's approval. The sound he made when eating her cooking, only deeper and more meaningful. She relaxed slowly, frightened of what was about to happen and yet wanting it more than she'd ever wanted anything before. And then it was happening. Her father's cock split her lips and the head lodged at her entrance. He pushed, and the mushroom head stretched her open, popped inside. He sank into her an inch before pulling back, and she pushed her hips back at him, not wanting him to leave her body ever. He leaned into her and drove half his length into her sopping heat, making her gasp loudly. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her moans as he pulled back and sank in again, this time filling her up, stretching her.

She felt her Daddy's heavy balls against her clit and knew she'd taken all of him. He was completely inside her. They were joined in incestuous bliss. He rocked back and began to fuck her, sliding in and out of her using deep, slow, deliberate strokes. Her pussy made a squelching noise as her Daddy fucked her. She tightened the muscles there, milking him, feeling delicious tingles running up and down her spine, like exploding sparks of energy radiating from her cunt. He reached around to hold her tits again, gently pinching the nipples, and fucked her with quick, shallow strokes that made her body jiggle. His balls hit her clit again and again and suddenly she was there, cumming, her body convulsing with exquisite pleasure.

With a loud groan her Daddy joined her. She felt his already thick cock swell even more inside her just before wet heat splashed deep in her womb. She wasn't on any sort of birth control, and just knowing her own father could, at that moment, be knocking her up sent a fresh wave of orgasm racing through her. That was a first. She'd never been multi-orgasmic before. He groaned again and again as his body shook and his cock delivered its load of illicit sperm into her unprotected womb. It seemed to last forever, and yet it was over too quickly.

"Oh, god Krista," he groaned. "That was amazing."

It was hard for Krista to hide her shock. He'd known! "I know, Daddy," she agreed, not knowing what else to say. He pulled out of her slowly, his cock still mostly hard. A flood of his jizz ran down her leg. He helped her back out from beneath the cabinet and she stood upright before turning into his welcoming embrace. They kissed for the first time then, and for Krista it almost felt like the very first kiss of her life. His hands roamed her body, seeming to take great delight in everything he found.

"I love you, Daddy," she said in a whisper, smiling broadly, deliriously happy.

"I love you too, little bear," he replied, using his pet name for her. Krista giggled and kissed her father hard, sucking his tongue into her mouth. "I hope we didn't wake your mother," he added when she came up for air.

"Me too," Krista agreed. She reached down and took her father's cock in her hand. It was still half hard, slimy with their combined juices. She wanted to suck him. She'd seldom sucked her husband, never when he had fluids on him...but Daddy was different. With Daddy she could do anything.

"Want to go to my bed?" she offered.

He shook his head. "Too close to my bedroom," he said.

Smiling, she said, "How about the couch then? I want you to fuck me again Daddy."

He groaned. His cock began to stiffen in her hand. Oh, yes, Krista had finally found what she'd been looking for. It was a shame it had taken so long to realize it. Leading her father by his cock, Krista led her new lover toward the living room, and toward a new life she was eager, willing, and desperate to embrace.



Identity



One

The man was always at least mildly patronizing. Danny always hated that but for some reason with him it was almost comforting. That part of Danny's mind.. the part that always got into trouble... wanted to scream and jump up and punch him in the face or kick him in the nuts or even pull that short wicked knife from the hidden boot sheath and do some serious damage to that infuriatingly smug look on his face.

But conversely each time he said "Dear" or "Child" or even the much-despised "Girl" another part of her mind wanted desperately to crawl up into his warm inviting lap like an infant and lose herself in his arms forever. Recognizing those thoughts shook Danny to her core. Never once in all of her nineteen years had she ever felt so completely comforted by another human being. Especially a man. It was as if Danny had finally found her father and he turned out to be all of those things the television shows said fathers should be. The stupid namby-pamby feel-good television shows they always showed around Christmas time each year, anyway. The ones she never watched all the way through because they weren't real and they were just fucking stupid.

This man wasn't her father and she knew that full well. Her real father.. the man the caseworkers referred to as her "biological father" had been killed in an explosion while trying to manufacture his own methamphetamine. Once Danny had grown up enough to discover the internet and how to search it hadn't taken her long at all to figure that one out. It was the same with her mother. The caseworkers and therapists from Child Protective Services never wanted to tell her anything at all about her parents. It frustrated her as a child that they would withhold such things. They were her parents! She should be allowed to know!

Of course once she read the news article about her eighteen year old mother being found dead of an overdose just twenty four hours after being released from the local jail she kind of understood their reticence. When Danny was asking those questions she wasn't mature enough to assimilate the answers. She was only eighteen months old when he mother died and that had been almost twenty years ago.

Today, those answers were just part of her life. Part of her.

So what was it with this guy? What was it about him that made her feel so warm? So comforted? So... at home? Once again that part of her mind that always made her want to lash out and keep people at a distance rose to the surface.

"I'm not a pushover or a doormat, you know." He chuckled and shook his head.

"Of course not, child." A frown appeared between her eyebrows.

"I'm not your fucking punching bag, either. If you hit me once, I'm out the fucking door." He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing in the relative quiet of the room.

"Language, girl." That deep voice was suddenly devoid of emotion. Flat and hard. She reeled back as if he had slapped her. Despite herself, she lowered both her eyes and her voice.

"I... I'm sorry, sir."

"It's all right, dear. This is a learning process. You will learn about me and I about you." That warmth returned to his eyes and his voice. "I do not hit, Danny. Never once will I strike you in anger. That is not my way." One finger raised where his hand lay atop his thigh. "I do however, punish. If you decide to stay it will become a part of your life. All of our lives are about pain, dear. Either it's presence or it's absence. It is one of the best ways in which we learn. I will teach you in the best and most efficient way I know. That will involve punishment and pain, as well as pleasure and contentment." The hand turned over and his fingers cupped the air.

"Here in my home you will be upbraided, but not abased. Disconcerted but not abused. Esteemed and not at all ashamed." She didn't quite understand what he just said, making mental notes to look up some of those words.

"If things go as I hope, you will want to stay here for a very long time, child. Make this your home. Maybe one day move on to something better after I am gone." Danny had only met him two hours ago but the thought of him being gone left a void in the pit of her stomach. The "Mean Danny" in the back of her mind was yelling "What the fuck!?"

"Why do you want me anyway? I'm a lesbian." His chuckle was loud and supremely amused.

"Oh, no you aren't, dear. Not even a little. If you really were, you wouldn't be here. You would never have answered my ad, never come with me to my home. You are at best, bisexual."

"I think my girlfriends would disagree." He shook his head slowly, that smug arrogant smirk curling one corner of his lips so irritatingly.

"Four girlfriends in a year, Danny. Average time of each relationship: two months. One month of seduction, one month of sex and then you are gone. Angry and dissatisfied and moving on." His hand waved at the bag she had stowed in the corner when she arrived. "All those girls you claim you loved and not one memento. Not a single picture, love note or piece of jewelry. Nothing."

"You... you searched my bag?" Even though she was angry at the invasion of her privacy that was overwhelmed by the fact he had done it without her noticing. His hands came up, palms out.

"I took nothing, dear child. Your things are safe here. Well..." He reached inside his shirt. "I did take this." In his hand was the six inch knife she usually kept in her boot. Stunned, she reached down to discover the blade really was gone. Oh... he was good. How in the fuck...?

"Give me that back!" He raised his eyebrow again. The little blade in its sheath turned around and around in his hands then he stopped and raised two fingers.

"Of course, dear. It is yours, after all. Two conditions. One: That you put it away and never ever carry it inside my home. You may carry it outside. After all, people do need to be able to protect themselves. And you may keep it close when you sleep, if you like. But never carry it in the house. That's one. Agreed?" Danny nodded.

"What's the other condition?"

"That you ask me politely, girl."

Six words. That's all it took.

Six words from his lips left her feeling as if she'd been spanked and stood in the corner. She felt a blush rising on her cheeks and she never blushed.

How did he do that?

"I... I'm sorry, Sir. May... may I please have my knife back?"

Wordlessly, he extended his hand. It was large enough it made her knife look like a fingernail clipper in comparison as it lay in his palm. She tried to take it without touching his skin, but her fingers trailed over his palm of their own accord.

Sir's hand...

That phrase echoed back and forth in her mind, much to her confusion. He'd told her his name when they first met. She was sure he had. But what was it again? She couldn't remember... Somewhere in between their meeting and here he'd become "Sir" in her mind.

Sir's hand was large and tanned and warm and rough. Danny's own pale soft hands looked like a dolls in contrast. She could see scars and marks on his skin and suddenly she wanted to take the time and hear the story of each and every one of them. She wanted to curl up in those big warm rough hands and sleep. Safe and comforted. Maybe for the first time in her life.

Touching him made her feel... feminine. Again, maybe for the first time in her life.

For the first time in a very very long time a single tear traced slowly down her cheek. Before she even realized it, he had reached out with his other hand, cupping her chin as his thumb wiped away the track of the tear. Danny blinked and another one welled up in her eye.

"What ever is the matter, child?"

"I'm... confused." He folded the weapon into her hand and pushed her softly fisted fingers back towards her chest.

"Of course you are, love. All of your life. But now you are here and maybe together we can make some sense of it all." One hand still cupped her cheek tenderly and the other pressed two fingers against the soft swelling of her breast, right above her heart. "We will explore those feelings in your heart, little pigeon. Chase away those things which confuse you and make you angry and help you find some peace."

Peace... that word echoed through her mind. Never in her life had she known real peace. Not in her mind or her heart. The only quiet she had ever experienced was with drugs or alcohol. But those, she knew, were just lies that blotted away the real world for a short time. Once she sobered up again it all came crashing back.

Peace... he was offering her peace. It... couldn't be true.

It must be a trick.

She pulled back, angrily wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her leather jacket. Her mouth opened to snap off some smart ass retort when she became aware of the knife still clenched in her fist. There was a momentary struggle in her mind as she considered pulling it out and at least threatening him with harm.

She'd done that so many times in her life it was almost second nature.

Fortunately common sense prevailed for once. He was so quick and so sly and so big, compared to her. He towered almost a foot taller than her and for someone so big he'd managed to get her knife away from her in the first place without her even noticing. For all of his pleasant and nice demeanor, Danny had no doubt in her mind if she pulled that knife on him she would regret it quickly.

And her "pre-emptive strike" defense mechanisms were not going to change overnight, after all. Before she even thought about what she was saying she blurted out "You just want to stick your dick in me like all the rest of them!"

A spontaneous chuckle shot from his lips. His hands spread out to his sides, almost in surrender.

"Of course I do, child. After all, I do enjoy the company of pretty girls." One finger pointed to her. "You knew that before you even met me. The personal ad you answered was quite specific. But..." Both hands came up. "If you do not wish to then you are more than welcome to leave. I will not stop you and I will not force you. At any time you may leave if you wish. This is all about choices, Danielle."

He stunned her into silence. She could not remember the last time someone called her pretty. And nobody but her caseworker ever used her real name. Danny had given up on mirrors ages ago. To her eyes she was too plain and too angular and she rarely even bothered to look at herself. Grooming was running her fingers through her short brush of hair to make it stick up and putting on a clean t-shirt. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, the question on her lips making her blush just a little which infuriated the defensive part of her brain.

"Do you really... think I'm pretty?" Part of her mind hated herself for even asking such an asinine question. Falling for his slick lines like a naive schoolgirl. 

That large warm hand reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her head up. She resisted meeting his eyes. His thumb caressed her cheek once more as it had when he wiped away her tears.

"Look at me, girl. Look at my eyes." Reluctantly, she did as directed and gazed into his warm blue eyes. He wore a soft smile under that gray mustache, making the sides of it curl up almost comically. The look he was giving her was of calm warm acceptance of everything she was and that almost floored her.

"Yes, I think you are pretty, girl. More than that, I think you are astonishingly beautiful. And at this very moment I believe you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my life." She felt her heart skip a beat. "Do you believe me, girl child?"

Amazingly enough, she did. "Y-yes, sir. I believe you." Another one of those amused chuckles rumbled from his chest.

"I am certain you are the prettiest one in this room, to say the least."

She laughed. For the first time in days. A spontaneous laugh which felt really good, like a warm spring rain on her face.

Danny fell in love with him right then and there. Not only the prettiest girl in the room, but also the most astonished.

"You are quite aware of what I want, girl."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes... Master." He said evenly.

"Y-yes, M-master." The fact she stuttered the words shamed her a little. But the fact she was able to say them at all made her proud and gave her a sexual rush which scampered up and down her spine like a little ice fairy was dancing there. While she broke out in goose bumps elsewhere a fire suddenly erupted in her lower belly, spreading out from her pussy and Danny realized she was dripping wet between her thighs. No man had ever done that to her before. Hell... most of the girls hadn't either.

"What will you do for me?"

"Anything you want... Master."

"You will cook my meals and clean my house."

"Yes, Sir."

"You will wear a collar and walk at the end of my leash."

"Mmmm... yes, Master."

"You will kneel at my feet to amuse me."

"Yes, Sir."

"You will come to my bed each night willingly. And you will do your very best to please me."

"Y-yes, M-master. I will..."

"You will be my slave. My pet. My servant and my sex toy."

"Mmmm... aaahhh..." Danny was almost in a sort of sexual trance. She'd never experienced anything like this before. Part of her mind was immensely startled to realize she was on the verge of orgasm just from listening to his words. "Yes, Master... Oooohhhh..." A small but not inconsiderable wave of pleasure rushed through her body, making her shiver and gasp.

For all of her considerable sexual experience, quite vast considering her age, Danny had never once been with a man. Even before she knew what the word was, she considered herself a lesbian. Men had never held any attraction for her whatsoever. For the most part she was attracted to soft little blonds with big tits. "Femme" girls, to use the popular phrase. Ninety nine percent of the men she had met in her life she considered to be a nuisance to be gotten rid of or a danger to be avoided or frightened away at the point of her knife.

But this one...

This one, in the space of merely a couple of hours had... maybe hypnotized her... maybe something else... and managed to bring her to orgasm with just his words. Had he slipped something in her coffee while they talked at the cafe? Danny didn't think so, but he also managed to search her bag and steal her knife without her noticing, so she wasn't sure.

"Ummm... sir?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Did you... give me something?"

"Like?" He seemed confused.

"Did you... drug me?" One of his eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

"No, child. I did not. I do not use drugs. Nor do I utilize them." He waved a hand. "Yes, I have prescription drugs in my cabinet. The doctor says my cholesterol is too high and I have a few painkillers left over from an old injury. But I haven't touched them in ages. But while we are on the subject..." He waved a hand towards her bag by the door. "I did notice the pills in your bag, dear. I do not use drugs nor do I allow my pets to do so. Once you take my collar your first task will be to flush those down the toilet." He frowned and Danny got the first glimpse of how scary he could be if he were really angry.

"You will never ever bring anything illegal in my home, girl. Not ever." The tone of his voice made her shiver deep inside. She lowered her eyes to the floor.

"Yes, Master. I understand."

"There will be rules here in my home, Danny. Some of them will be rather strict. Like the worst foster home you ever stayed in. Rules and schedules and chores and a curfew that will never be broken. You and I will discover them together. I will give you one chance." He raised a finger. "One chance to learn each rule. After which if you break it you will be punished. And my methods of punishment are all geared towards making my pets remember the rules."

"I said I do not and will not hit you and I will not. I will not punch, slap, hit, kick or throw you. I will endeavor never to leave a mark on you that lasts more than ten or fifteen minutes. I will do my best never to leave a bruise or break your skin. Accidents, however, do happen." He cleared his throat softly. "I am far from perfect."

"But I will show no hesitation about punishing you for misbehaving or breaking the rules, girl. I will punish you with my words. I will stand you in the corner. I will put you over my lap and take my hand or a paddle or my belt or any other handy object to your bouncy little bottom until you are very very sorry. I do not think you will make the same mistake twice in my home. Are we quite clear on that, pet girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"I will be firm, because it is my job. The role I must play in our life. But I will also be fair and just and if I must punish you, I will punish you with love and affection in my heart. Do you think that is fair, love?"

"Yes, Master. I do."

"So..." He said as he laid his forearm across his thigh, extending one large weathered hand towards her. "Give me your hand, love."

She just couldn't get over the way his hand made her feel so small and so soft. Compared to his rough tanned flesh her pale hand looked like that of a porcelain toy. Danny had prided herself all of her life on how tough and resilient she was and yet one touch of this man's hands stripped away the layers of her hard outer shell as if it never existed, leaving her a small and fragile girl.

If just the touch of his hand could affect her so, what would more be like? What would it feel like to kiss him? To be held in his arms? In his lap? How would it disconcert her when he... 

When he...

She gulped and shivered.

Pretending not to notice her inner struggle, Sir caressed the back of her little hand with his thumb.

"This is a very serious and delicate thing we are proposing here, Danny. Not unlike a marriage. Both of us need to want it and need to do our very best to make it work. For me, the choice is quite simple. You are beautiful and sweet and exciting and submissive and I want you very badly. I want you in my heart and in my mind and in my home, my arms and my bed for as long as you will have me." He placed a hand over his heart while his thumb caressed the back of her delicate little hand laying in his other palm.

"So I guess the answer is up to you, dear. Will you accept my collar? Will you accept me as your master? Be my pet girl, my servant, partner, lover and friend?"

Danny's mind was in a turmoil. It had all happened so quickly. It was just this morning she had answered a personal ad online. A kink friendly social network site she trolled now and then. Answering an ad from a man, of all things. Asking questions because he had intrigued her. Spending the morning emailing back and forth. Setting up a meet, which had both frightened and excited her. Meeting her first real Dom.

And that meeting... what? Three hours ago? Maybe four? Just so quickly and here she was... her lips poised to say "yes" to his proposal. A man of all things! A man!

A man who...

Made her feel beautiful and sweet and exciting and submissive.

Things she had never felt about her self before.

A man who had managed to bring her to orgasm with nothing more than words and a soft touch on her hand.

A man who was opening up a world she had never really imagined before.

Slowly, Danny leaned over and kissed the side of his thumb.

"Yes, Master. I will. I will be... all of those things... for you."

"Good girl. Come here, love." He hooked a hand behind her neck and pulled her in to meet his lips. She closed her eyes as they kissed. "Just like a girl." she thought to herself. Master's mouth was warm and he kissed her hungrily, like a great wolf starving for prey. His mustache tickled the sides of her face and she could feel the rough rasp of the whiskers on his chin scraping against her flesh. The hand on the back of her neck held her tightly to him but not so hard she couldn't have pulled away if she wished. He moved and her mouth opened to him, his tongue slipping past her lips.




Identity



Manhandled. It was an apt and fitting word, even if it was a little too crude to describe what he was doing. Sure, Danny had been manhandled before. Mostly by drunken assholes who wanted to show the lesbian chick "what a real man was like." She'd always fought them off with a few choice words and threats to the source of their manhood.

But what Sir was doing to her was more... refined. He wasn't forcing her. He wasn't forcing himself on her. It was more like... directing her. Making her move the way he wanted and do what he wanted without using any pressure at all. Making sure she knew what he wanted in a way that made sure she was willing to go along.

He was dominating her. With his lips and one hand.

And she was submitting to him without a thought. She even noticed her hand was slowly tracing up and down his forearm, fingers idly playing on the landscape of his muscles, feeling them move under his skin. The course thick hair on his arm was an interesting feeling, but one she only noticed viscerally. For the most part she was lost in his lips. Most of the girls Danny had met and romanced did not know how to kiss properly. They just went about it like they were mashing lips and nothing more.

But this... man.

He knew how to kiss.

Thoroughly and completely. 

It was as if at that very moment nothing else in the universe existed but Danny and he was focusing the entirety of his being on her. He wasn't thinking about other girls or his unpaid bills or wondering if there was anything on his web page he needed up update or even whether or not he was going to get laid later. All that mattered was his connection to her through his lips and he acted as though if that precious connection was broken, the universe would pop like a soap bubble and disappear. Danny had never once in her life had even the briefest connection with another person like that before and she lost herself in the sensation.

She didn't want it to stop.

But soon enough it did. The universe didn't pop out of existence as it was replaced by something different. Sir folded her in his arms and pulled her into his chest, almost completely enveloping all of her from the waist up. Ear against his ribs, Danny could hear the lazy lub-dub of his heartbeat and that calm measured beat spread a peace through her which went all the way to her bones.

"I have been startled by more things in the last couple of hours..." She thought from her comfy nest deep in his arms. "Than I have been all of my life up to this moment. If this man surprises me one more time I might fall over dead."

He did and fortunately she didn't.

Danny felt his lips on the top of her head, then he took her by the shoulders and pushed her back so he could look down at her face. One finger went under her chin, tipping her face up.

"This is what you want, girl?"

"Yes, Master." She said serenely. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Are you sure?" He whispered. She nodded.

"Yes, Master. I am sure." That warm chuckle of his made her heart flutter. Releasing her, he leaned back in his chair.

"Good girl, Danny." There was a pause and his eyes narrowed. "Strip."

That took a second for her to process.

"What?" Hastily she added. "Sir?" He waved a hand.

"Strip, pet girl. Do it now. I want to see all of you."

"Oh... Y-yes, Master."

Scooting her butt around, Danny began fumbling with her boot laces. Her fingers were shaking and it aggravated her which of course made her fumble worse. She started getting angry with herslf.

"Stop." He said, in that way he had which stood for no questions. She froze in place.

"Close your eyes, little love." She did so.

"Take a deep breath. Alllll the way in..." She did as he instructed.

"Now let it out slowly..."

"One more time, dear. Looooooong breath in..."

"And out..."

"Do you want to be my pet, Danny?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you want to please your master, girl child?"

"Yes, Sir. I do!"

"Then take your clothes off, love. Let me see all of you. Let me see all of my beautiful pet girl."

"Mmm..." She felt a smile twist one corner of her lips. "Yes, Sir."

Amazingly enough, her fingers seemed to be working much better now. The laces almost fell open and one by one her boots clunked to the floor quickly followed by her socks. Rising, she shrugged off her leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Danny's loose blue jeans slid to the floor and she stepped out of them and paused, wearing nothing but her underpants and t-shirt.

Never before had she ever felt the need to be "girlie" in front of anybody. So accustomed to playing the tough tomboy role it had become a part of her, even if there wasn't anybody to witness it. But at this moment she felt slightly ridiculous standing in front of Sir wearing a pair of boys boxer briefs and a "wife beater" t-shirt. The bits of her attire that always impressed those air-headed girls she'd managed to romance and fuck now seemed stupid and embarrassing.

The man was unraveling her entire life.

And she was letting him do it. Helping him, even.

His eyes never wavered and his smile didn't even twitch.

"All of it, my little pet." He said softly. "I want to see all of my pretty pet girl. Do it now."

"Yes... Master." Danny skinned the t-shirt up over her head and dropped it and in one more motion slid the boxers down her legs and kicked them away. For the very first time ever she was completely naked in front of a man. She felt vulnerable and self conscious, which infuriated the defensive part of her mind and she fought to keep from hunching over and putting her hands across her breasts and crotch.

Even as a little girl, Danny had never been happy with her body. She avoided mirrors for the most part and never looked at herself naked. Ever. Compared to other girls, she thought her breasts were too small and her hips too wide and her face too plain. To her, she looked like a boy. So a boy was what she became.

Now this man was making her wish she looked more like a girl.

Almost, she wished he would snort or shake his head so she could angrily go back to the role she was so comfortable with. In a flash, she could be dressed and gone and never look back.

He didn't, of course.

"Stand up straight, pet. Hands behind your neck. Eyes forward. Spread your feet." Startled from her inner conflict, she did as she was told. She could feel his eyes on her as he rose from his chair and walked around and around her. Those nagging inner doubts whispering in the back of her mind told her in that position with her arms raised made her already smallish breasts flatten against her chest and almost disappear.

On the second lap around, he stopped behind her. Silent for a moment.

A touch. She almost flinched and only stilled her body by sheer force of will.

His fingers played across hers locked behind her neck, his thumb rubbing the skin below. Then his palm covered her hands, fingers twining in her short hair as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You are so very pretty, love. I want you so badly it makes me ache inside."

Danny wanted to fall to her knees and weep at his words. And once again she felt that fire growing in her belly and the dampness between her thighs.

Holy fuck! How did he keep doing that? Oooohhh... god...

For a moment he stepped away and the girl heard a door open and shut before he walked back into view. In his hands he carried a black mat of some sort, about two feet wide by three feet long. He placed it short ways in front of his chair so it would fit between his feet, then resumed his place in his chair. One hand gestured towards the mat.

"Right here, pet girl. Hands on top of your thighs." He smiled as she knelt in front of him. Turning to the side table, he pulled open a drawer and turned back with a collar in his hands. It was simple and plain. Black leather with a brass buckle and a brass loop for a leash.

"This is just a simple collar, little pigeon. A beginners collar for a beginner pet. I know it isn't much. But perhaps later you and I can discover what sort of collar suits you the best. What matters the most at this very moment is if you will accept it. If you will wear my collar willingly and proudly and be my pet girl. Now..." He raised a finger in warning. "This isn't a thing to enter into lightly, girl. It is much like a marriage proposal, as I said earlier. Something I take rather seriously and I hope you do as well."

"I know... some... of your history, Danielle. I work fast when I need to, but I didn't have the time to learn everything. I am hoping to save most of the discovery for the future. That is so much fun..." He stopped and took a breath.

"But I digress. One of the things I know is you have never really been... with a man before. Or a Dom of any kind. And now you are trying to do both at once. This is not going to be easy for you, love. I want you to make your decisions with your eyes wide open."

"This lifestyle is all about consent and choices, dear. By taking my collar you are choosing me. You are consenting to whatever I plan on doing to and with you. You are agreeing your heart and your mind and that... so very sweet little body of yours... belong to me and only to me, to do with as I wish."

Danny could not help smiling at his flatteries. Even if it was a bit of a wry smile. She'd used those words on other girls so many times but she'd never heard them come from anyone else's mouth directed at her. She couldn't help but think if she had been half as convincing as he was, she would have gotten laid a lot more often.

The man knew how to turn on the charm and shovel out the bullshit. An ability, she suspected, which was prerequisite for being a successful Dom.

So... How much of his words were real and how much bullshit?

Thinking on it for a moment, kneeling there naked in front of this strange... very strange man... Danny decided it didn't matter. Even if it all ended five minutes from now it would have been worth it. In the space of a couple of hours this... man... had made her feel more warm, more alive and more loved than she had ever felt before. He had, using only his words for the most part, pulled her straight out of her comfort zone and showed her things she had never even imagined. Things and experiences she only thought happened in porn and not in real life.

And that was just in the first two hours. What would the next two be like? 

Danny, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into here?

Raising her hands, she touched Sirs as they lay on his thighs. Those hands were so big. The size of catcher's mitts. Large and strong and rough with callouses and scars, yet warm and gentle at the same time. His fingers uncurled to allow her access to his palms and the collar he was offering her. One finger traced over the leather, wondering what it would feel like around her neck. Not just the stiff of the leather and the cool smoothness of the brass but the meaning of the thing as well. To put that thing willingly around her neck signifying this man owned her completely.

He was so... big. Every lover she had ever had was smaller than she was. Petite. With big tits, of course. That was the way she liked them. Girly femme girls. In comparison he was monstrously huge. Sir filled the room with his body and his presence. He was the complete antithesis or every lover she had ever taken to bed. Large and rough and hairy.

And a man.

The thought of being in bed with him... his huge body on top of her... taking her as his... inside her body... Danny shuddered and his fingers closed around her hands gently.

"Tell me, love."

"I'm..." She turned her head away.

"Nervous?" He asked. "Uncomfortable? Frightened? Scared half out of your wits?" The girl felt a deep heat spreading across her cheeks which made her hang her head lower. Blushing was something she never did. It made her feel weak and vulnerable. Conditions she had fought against all of her young life.

"Yes, Sir. All of those things." The man lifted her hand and placed it against his lips, kissing the side of one finger. Then he gathered both of her hands together and held up the simple strip of leather in front of her eyes.

"We do not have to do this thing, Danny. You do not have to take my collar to earn my love and affection. Or even just my friendship. You have already achieved all of those." He made a motion like tossing it away. Her eyes followed it's every move. "I can put it back in the drawer or toss it in the corner to moulder for all eternity." His eccentric way with words brought a little smile to the corner of her lips. "We can toss it in the recycling bin or the trash or, if you like, you can get dressed again and you yourself can put it in the barrel and set it on fire. You and I can stand and warm our hands on the flames of your collar until nothing is left and you will be free to go merrily on your way." Danny started to say something and he interjected. "But be advised..." His stern voice wiped away whatever it was she was going to say. "If you decide on that course of action I will no longer be your Master." Then his voice softened and he squeezed her fingers gently. "But I will still be your friend, Danny."

"Oh..." It drove her slightly nuts with all of the words and emotions flooding through her mind all that managed to come out was "Oh..." Once again he made a motion as if to throw the collar away and her hand came up.

"Please, Sir!" His bushy gray mustache twitched.

"Yes, dear?" Slowly Danny put both hands on his knees and lowered her head until she was looking at the floor between his feet.

"Please allow me to wear your collar, Master." There was a short silence.

"You wish to be my pet."

"Yes, Master."

"My property."

"Yes, Master."

"My lover and my servant and my play toy."

"All of those things, Master."

"Hmmm..." He rumbled. One large warm hand settled on the back of her neck, fingers brushing her skin.

"I will give you my collar, girl. Under one condition."

"Anything you wish, Master. I am yours." His hand dipped down under her chin.

"Then look me in the eye while I put it on you, girl."

"Oh..." He kept reducing her to that same word. It was somewhat maddening. The smile which greeted her raised eyes made her feel warm all over.

"Yes, Master."

Two

Much to her surprise, Danny had slept. Fitfully off and on, but she had slept. The heat from Sirs body had made her overly warm in the night and the hairs from his chest tickled her chin and her nose. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to being close to someone so hairy.

Each time she awakened in the night he was aware of it. Either that or he was remarkably empathetic in his sleep. No sooner did her eyes jerk open than his arm would tighten across her shoulders or back, giving her a pat and whispering "Sssshhhh... it's okay, love. I'm here. Go back to sleep."

It worked every time. No sooner than the words left his lips she laid her head back down on his chest, cuddled back into his body and drifted back off to sleep.

Happy.

Warm.

Comfortable.

And his.

The house hadn't seemed like much from the outside. Just another one story house on the fringes of the suburban development area of the town. It set back a little from the road with a large well kept swath of grass in the front yard and the hint of trees and bushes in the back. Sir had taken Danny on a tour of the house with several different agendas on his mind. The spare bedroom and bath were plain and lightly used, but the other bedroom was turned into a library stuffed almost to overflowing with books. One of her duties in his house, Sir explained, was to organize the library to make it easier to find things. Eyes wide at the piles and stacks of reading material, she wondered if it was a task she would ever finish.

The kitchen was large and modern and well equipped with a pantry bigger than some of the rooms Danny had rented. Next to the chair at the head of the dining table was a small low wooden bench. When she pointed to it, Sir said "Go fetch the mat from in front of my chair, pet." When she returned he directed her to place it in front of the wooden bench and kneel down on it. It didn't take her too long to figure it out.

"Is this... where I will eat, Sir?" His smile was one of pride. Not in the fact he was having her kneel on the floor to eat, but pride in her for understanding so quickly.

"Yes, love. When I sit down to eat as meal, you will be here at my side. Just as you will be when I am sitting in my chair in the living room, you will be here. Always within my view and always within arms reach."

"Oh..." There it was again. "Of course, Master."

It didn't seem, at first glance, that keeping Sir's house clean and tidy was going to be too much of a chore. Master's house was kept fairly neat and clean. Although she hadn't lived anywhere for very long, she was always rather neat about her living spaces. She had always traveled light and not having much in the way of things made you want to keep what you had in good repair. In her travels she had seen (and slept in) places you couldn't have cleaned with a blowtorch and a bulldozer. 

Several times during the tour Sir had stopped her with his hands and his words to correct her posture. Danny had never spent much time naked out of bed or in the shower and it took a force of will and several reminders from the man who was now her Master to keep her from covering her body with her hands. Once or twice he'd begun with a slap on her bottom to get her attention. Hard enough to elicit a squeak from her lips and leave a pink mark on her pale skin.

"This body belongs to me, girl child. You are not allowed to cover it up, ever. This beautiful sweet little body is mine to look at and touch and play with whenever and however I wish. I am your master, girl. And your master wants to look at you always. Come here." Taking her by one elbow and a hand in the small of her back, he steered her to a full length mirror hanging in the hallway.

She'd never cared much for mirrors and as such tried to avert her gaze, but his hand on her chin kept her face forward. His eyes stared into hers through the mirror with his lips right by her ear, speaking softly.

"Look at this face, pet. Not as your own, from the outside. Look at it as if you were trying to seduce this girl. How could you not be enchanted by such a face? Those big brown soft eyes. The little locks of hair hanging down, catching in her eyelashes now and then. High artistic cheekbones a Greek goddess would envy. Those soft kissable lips. With that little curl in one corner, making it look like a smile was just hidden out of sight." His hand slid down the front of her throat, bumping over the leather of the collar.

"This long pretty neck. A perfect place for a collar. Or lips." He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck between her ear and the collar, making her shiver just a little. "I could easily spend a lifetime.." He whispered softly. "Exploring this pretty neck with my lips."

Both hands now... fingertips trailing across her collar bone, spreading out on both sides.

"These strong shoulders. Not some fragile fainting girl but a woman. A warrior woman who isn't afraid of anyone or anything. Strong. Confident. Able to bear any hardship and survive. Strong, yes..." He paused and kissed the top of her shoulder lightly. "Made even more so by your ability to face up to your choices. It takes incredible strength to be a submissive, girl. Incredible." He kissed her again and whispered. "I envy that strength, love."

Damn him, anyway. He was making her feel good about herself. She felt those large hands slide down the front of her chest, cupping a tit in each palm. Her nipples went instantly hard at his touch as they disappeared beneath his huge hands.

"These little beauties." he murmured. "So enchanting and exquisite. Compact and firm and exciting. Absolutely perfect." His grip shifted just a fraction, lightly pinching her little nubs between his thick fingers, making her gasp and shiver again. "I could write reams of poetry on your sweet little mounds, love."




Identity



Once again Danny found her cheeks flushed warm. She wasn't used to this kind of flattery. Part of her mind was filing away his words and phrases, wishing she'd had his silver tongue earlier in life. Oh, the girls she could have lured into her bed with such words!

Those hands were on the move again, bumping over her taut little nubs and bringing another shiver to her frame. One hand slipped down and gripped her slim waist and the other down over her taut belly stopping just at the tip of the little patch of fur between her thighs. His little finger rested a quarter of an inch above the top of her slit. So close and yet so far away. To her chagrin, she heard a little groan of desire escape from her lips.

"Do you believe I desire you, pet girl? Do you believe I find you beautiful?"

"Y-yes, Master."

"I want to see you just like this, love. Naked and beautiful and mine until the day I die." Danny's hips moved of their own accord, as if trying to move his touch just a little closer to her pussy. She was so wet it felt like she would start dripping down her thighs. Those bright blue eyes bored into hers through the mirror like a snake about to devour a mouse and she found herself unable to look away.

"Put your hand on top of mine, girl." She knew without asking which hand he was referring to. It was a struggle to stop there. The tip of his boot bumped into the inside of her ankle.

"Spread your legs for me." That phrase echoed back and forth through her mind. Something she never dreamed of hearing from a man. Just moving made little ripples of pleasure race up and down her belly and the cool air against her overly warm pussy brought forth another little groan of desire.

"Look at that girl." he growled into her ear. "I want her. I desire her more than life itself. I want to spend the rest of my life exploring her body with my hands and my lips and my cock. I want to find ways to make her whimper with desire and scream in ecstasy."

"Mmmhhh..." Danny had never heard such a sexy moan come from her own mouth before. It so perfectly echoed her own need. Sirs free arm went around her waist, pulling her back into his body.

"Seduce this sweet little pet girl for me, love. Take her for your Master. Touch her. Make her mine. Make that girl come hard and long, pet."

"Oh..." It was barely a breath of a whisper. "Yes, Master. Mmmm... Aaaahhh..." One slim finger dipped between her pussy lips, the heel of her hand still resting atop his. Her body shuddered at the touch and she felt sweat breaking out from all of her pores. Her experienced fingers had explored many a wet pussy in her time but it had never been hers. Not like this. It felt as if she was plugged into a hot wet light socket as wave after wave of orgasm raced up and down her spine.

"Ohh! Oh god... I... Mmmm... M-mas... Oooohhh...!" The world went away and nothing existed but the feel of her fingers on her pussy and Master's touch. His hand above her slit and his arm around her waist and the feel and sound of him whispering into her ear above the sound of her own delight. Never before had she ever been so aware of her partner while making love and never ever ever had her own fingers brought her to her peak so quickly, let alone multiple times.

"Good girl... good girl... good girl..." The deep rumbling voice growled softly.

At that very moment Danny felt like a very good girl indeed. If she'd been in another state of mind the phrase might have been taken as a bit condescending and insulting.

But she was, after all, his pet girl. And she felt like a very good and very lucky girl indeed.

Through the haze of her euphoria she felt his hand close around her wrist, drawing her fingers from between her soaking wet thighs. That last final touch and even the absence of it against her throbbing clit brought one final wave of orgasm crashing through her weary synapses. Danny's mouth fell open in a moan and Sir brought her fingers up and held them to her lips.

"Taste the girl, pet. Lick her juices from her fingers." Greedily, Danny sucked her own fingers into her mouth, tongue lashing around and around to clean every last bit off her skin.

Naturally she had tasted a lot of pussy in her life.

But none of it had ever tasted as good as this.

Oh... My... God...

She'd never...

Not even...

Did that just...?

Oh... My... God...

Sir's strong arms held her as she sagged against his body. When her fingers slipped from her lips he held her arm across her chest with the other arm around her waist, keeping her from dropping to the floor. Danny felt like she was wrapped in ten miles of electric blanket and a down comforter atop the most comfortable bed in history. She could sleep for a month. 

Even if she was standing in the middle of his hallway.

What an amazing day...

A soft kiss on the side of her head jerked her out of her reverie and back into the real world. His chuckle in her ear was both knowing and amused.

"Come on, pet." He said with another kiss and a pat on her bottom. "One more room I want to show you, then we can get you cleaned up."

The room was dimly lit, even with the lights on the nightstands burning. Most of it was because the room was done almost entirely in black. The walls, carpeting, furniture, drapes and the bedding were all black. The ceiling was done in a dusky gray like the moment between sunset and total darkness.

"Our bedroom." he said simply.

Once again she was amazed at how he could pour so much meaning into two words. Since the house and everything in it (including her) belonged to him, she fully expected him to say "My bedroom." But the fact of including her in his statement drove home her commitment and her involvement and the fact that very soon she would be expected to share a bed with a man for the very first time in her life.

The notion shook her when she thought about it.

The first touch of his hand had been intimidating. Taking her little knife from his palm. The little sliver of steel which had been her backup for so many years now seemed shrunken and ridiculous.

The first kiss had been eye opening. An act she had avoided for so many years. Sir had owned her with just his lips and one hand. In an instant Danny had learned the difference between kissing someone and being kissed.

There's a big difference, if you look at it.

Then there was whatever the fuck he had done to her out there in the hallway. She could feel her legs and thighs shaking even now and her insides felt like a handful of guitar strings. Before, she avoided mirrors as they didn't interest her at all. Now just the thought of looking at herself in a mirror made her thighs twitch.

That Sir had announced this room to be "their" bedroom brought back another wave of anxiety. Standing there looking at "their" bed made her insides turn to soup. The thought of Sir... laying on top of her... inside of her... made it a little difficult to breathe.

She'd never been one to run away from things, but for the first time she was considering it. She just... wasn't sure she would even survive the experience. It was such an alien concept her mind reeled.

A hand on her hip broke through the fog of her reverie.

"Come, pet. Let's get you cleaned up." Taking her unresisting hand in his, he towed her into the bathroom.

In contrast to the intimidating darkness of the bedroom, the bathroom was almost blinding. Porcelain and white tile and... mirrors. It seemed there was a mirror everywhere she looked. Danny almost gave herself a headache trying to look away from them. 

But as a bathroom, it was pretty freaking impressive. Twin sinks with plenty of counter space around. A ginormous garden tub big enough for at least two people Sir's size. Danny imagined immersing herself up to her chin in hot steaming water and spending all day long in there. One of the more "girlie" pleasures she allowed herself. The shower was the size of a walk in closet with big glass doors and a keypad on the wall outside.

"We'll set you up a program of your own, dear. Temps and shower heads and such. For now we will use mine, though." As he pushed a button water sprayed from three shower heads mounted in different places on the walls and ceiling. The room began rapidly filling up with steam. He sat down on the toilet and began unlacing his boots. His chin pointed to a spot on the wall. "Hang your collar up there, love."

It didn't surprise Danny much there was a separate hook hanging next to the towel bar. Sir being prepared for having a pet just fit the way he thought things out. Even though she'd only been wearing that collar for an hour or so, she felt even more naked without it and when she hung her collar on the hook she once again found herself fighting the urge to cover her body with her hands.

"Stand up straight, girl." She was sure he hadn't even been looking at her when he said that. He just seemed to know... To distract herself, the girl looked at Sir's broad back while he fiddled with the controls of the shower. Wide bands of muscle flowed under his skin. A few more scars. The man was built like a football player. Even though she wasn't really all that good a judge of men she could tell the man had a pretty good looking body. Well muscled with just a thin layer of fat over the top, softening him and making him... cuddly.

The word as it flew through her mind almost made her giggle aloud. Thinking of her big scary hairy Dom Sir Master as a big cuddly teddy bear broke the tension in her mind and allowed her to breathe normally for the first time since they first met.

Then... oh my god.

He turned and held out his hand.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

He was... huge.

Even soft, he was huge. Danny had never had anything inside her larger than two of her fingers or small slim vibrators. The cock hanging down between his legs was almost as big around as her wrist and at least... seven inches long. Her throat clamped down on a little scream and panic flitted around her mind like a paranoid hummingbird on crack.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...!

Seemingly oblivious, Sir took her hand to pull her into the shower and shut the door. Three different shower heads rained hot water down her body getting her instantly wet from head to toe. His hands went to her shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles briefly. He seemed to know just the right spots to hit. Through the splash of the deluge she heard him lean in and whisper "Relax."

As if Danny had taken him to be her servant rather than the other way around, Sir spent the next ten minutes moving her around under the different spray nozzles, washing her from head to toe. He tipped her head back and shampooed her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp. A soapy washcloth left not an inch of her body unscrubbed, leaving her pink and clean all over.

She almost rebelled when he turned to her with a razor in his hand and it took a few stern words and warnings of dire consequences before she would allow herself to stand still long enough. Never ever before had anyone else ever shaved her. Not anywhere.

Especially down there.

He must have had some experience, though. For soon enough she was clean as a whistle without a hair to be seen anywhere below her neck. The experience left her even pinker and a little shaken. Sir kissed her and murmured "Good girl" leaving her under one of the shower heads to relax while he washed and shaved himself.

Of course he only shaved his face.

Another first followed immediately after as he toweled her dry and buckled the collar back around her neck.

And another fifteen minutes later as she knelt next to his chair in the dining room, eating a bowl of soup and a sandwich from the little bench. Now and then Sir, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, reached down to touch her shoulder or the back of her neck or to tug gently on her slightly damp hair.

In between bites of sandwich and spoonfuls of soup, he instructed her on what her chores will be on a daily basis around the house. At first it just seemed like he was rambling. Moving from chore to chore, telling her how he wanted things done. It took a few minutes for her to realize what he was doing was distracting her mind. As intuitive and as observant as he was, Sir had seen she was shaken after the little ordeal in the shower and was doing his level best to direct her thoughts toward other things.

Even though she knew what he was doing, Danny let herself relax and fall into the casual atmosphere Sir was trying to create. She allowed herself to take the mental equivalent of a long deep breath and just enjoyed his company all through the meal and the cleanup afterward.

"You are my pet and my servant, girl." Sir said with his hands down in the soapy dish water. "But you are not a slave and I am not lazy enough to need one. Some of the chores will be yours alone but I am also expected to work, dear. Inside and outside of the house. Yes, there will be times when I will sit and watch you work. Purely for the joy of looking at your sweet body." She felt another blush race across her cheeks.

"But I will not ask you to do anything I would not do myself under other circumstances. Most days we will work together, love. At my direction, of course." He added with a chuckle.

She found herself laughing softly alongside him as she rinsed the dishes and put them in the rack. The fact she felt so at ease left her a bit startled. Who was this man and what was he trying to do to her? Drive her crazy?

Once the cleanup was over he took her by the hand once more, saying simply "Come." Sir led her to his chair in the living room but instead of having her kneel at his feet, he pulled her up into his lap and wrapped her in his arms. Danny buried her head under his chin, turning her face into his chest. For a long moment she was just lost in the warmth and security of being in Sir's lap. Even if she was nervous about what was going to come later, she knew he would protect her. He seemed the kind of man who would fight for what was his.

As recently as a few hours ago the thought of being curled up in a mans lap would have been met with scorn and revulsion. Of course almost everything she had done and said and experienced since she walked into this house would have been beyond imagination.

"Deconstructed." She thought. "That's what he is doing to me. Taking me apart and putting me back together in a different way. Making me into his perfect submissive little pet."

The defensive part of her mind screamed in anger. "I don't need to change! If he doesn't want me as I am, then he can go fuck himself!"

Her reply to herself was interrupted by Sirs lips on the top of her head and a squeeze of his arms around her body. When he spoke it was muffled slightly by his lips being still pressed against her scalp but clear and startling enough.

"Don't ever change, pet girl. You are perfect just the way you are." Danny was stunned into silence.

Was he reading her mind?

Part of his plan seemed to be to keep her off balance, never letting her thoughts to settle into a groove. Always changing the game and the subject, forcing Danny to scramble to keep up. His arm went from around her shoulders to slip under her knees, lifting and rotating her until she lay on her back in his lap cradled in one arm like an infant. He smiled gently down at her as his hand rested in the center of her chest right over her heart.

"Take a deep breath, love." She did as she was instructed and his hand rode up and down with the movement of her rib cage.

"One more, Danielle. In... and out..." She felt herself feeling more relaxed. Her hands came up to cover his. She didn't even flinch when he used her full name.

"Now close your eyes, pet. Close them... and one more deeeeep breath... and out..."

Was he trying to hypnotize her?

It wouldn't have shocked Danny all that much to hear him say "No dear, I am not."

"Right now, dear. This very moment. Are you comfortable?" She nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"Are you regretting your decision to become mine?" She shook her head softly.

"No, Master." His fingertips drummed softly against the swelling of her soft mound.

"You know, I was emailing with a friend of mine the other day.." The conversational tone didn't catch her unawares this time. She was getting used to his ability to switch tracks. "He has ponies. The human kind... not my thing really, but there you are... anyway... Max told me that when he takes a new pet he gives them three days to get used to him. Three days to learn the rules and to come to grips with their situation before he takes them into his bed."

Sir stopped and his fingers slid up to touch her collar and past to grip her chin, his thumb passing lightly over her lips.

"Just a little while ago, love... when I had you strip for me.. when you were naked before me for the very first time... do you remember what I said?" She didn't have to think very hard. After all, it was only two hours ago.

"Y-yes, Sir. You said I was pretty." She felt a tinge of that annoying blush spreading across her face. "And... and you said you wanted me so much it made you ache inside. Sir." She didn't think she would ever get used to saying things like that about herself.

"All of that was true, pet girl. In my eyes you are more than pretty. You are astonishingly beautiful." Danny started to say something and he stopped her words with two fingers across her lips.

"Hush, child. Master is talking." He used the tone which implied severe consequences for misbehavior.

"I was attracted to you the first moment we met. From that time I knew I wanted you. Wanted to take you and make you mine. I wanted you here... in my lap... and at my feet... in my home and my life and my heart and in my bed..." His fingers gripped her collar, large knuckles pressing at her throat. "I wanted to strip you and collar you and take you to my bed and take every single inch of your sweet little body for my pleasure in any way and every way I could. Over and over again."

His words made the heat blossom anew in her belly. The fire slowly spreading down her thighs as it seemingly spread a chill to the rest of her body like it was concentrating all of her heat in one place. Danny felt goose bumps appear up and down her arms and her nipples went hard as diamonds atop her little tits.

"Mmmm..." She gasped softly. "Yes, Master."

"I am not a strong nor as patient as my friend. I cannot... will not... wait three days to have you as mine, love." As he spoke his large hand slid down her body, between her breasts and over her belly, pausing just above her freshly shaved pubic mound. She squirmed a little, desperately wanting him to move closer to the source of her need.

"Spread your legs for me, girl."

"Oooohhh god... yes, Master." The hand cupped her pussy and Danny could feel her juices coating his fingers as he touched her. Just that touch drove her closer to the edge.

"Tonight we will sleep, Danielle. Tomorrow you will come to me. You will come and get on your knees and beg your Master to make you his." His middle finger probed up and down between her lips, sending jolts of electric pleasure up and down her spine. Her hands clutched his arm, trying to pull him deeper inside.

"Yes... oh god, please Master... make me yours..." The tip of is finger slipped into her entrance, pressing in up to his second knuckle, stretching open her channel.

"Oh my god..." She thought in her haze of pleasure. "That's just his finger inside me. What will it feel like when he... oooohhh god... Mmmmmm..." Danny bucked her hips upward, taking more of the finger inside of her, clamped her thighs around his hand and her mind faded away under the crushing waves of orgasm. She was unaware of the noises she was making. Unaware of the grip her fingers had on his forearm or the way her toes curled up hard. Completely unaware of his soft amused chuckle as he rotated his hand between her thighs bringing her to peak after peak.