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The Story of Mallory Ch. 01

By: SAWade1968



Mallory gingerly turned the key in the lock, glancing over her shoulder as she heard her neighbor call out, "Welcome back, Mal!" She waved hello to him without saying anything, usually happy to chat, but today she was too exhausted having just returned from a 7-day Mexican cruise. The sun, fun, and booze, not to mention all of the men, was more than she could take; after her recent separation, she was mentally and physically exhausted. 

She dragged the two huge suitcases into her apartment slamming the door harder than she intended to on the world behind her. Normally thrilled to be alone, suddenly it occurred to her she was lonelier than she had been in a very long time. She sat down on the couch, looked around the living room, letting the past year of her life just wash over. She was buried with an avalanche of emotions as she realized just how much she had been through in the last year.

As she sat there reliving what her life had been like, it played through her mind like a miniature cartoon flip book running through in slow motion, the kind she used to love as a child. She could remember one she had that had Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner with Acme Dynamite, exploding cactus, and teetering rocks; her life the past year was much the same, starring her soon to be ex-husband as the coyote, her as the roadrunner, with love being the dynamite, work the exploding cactus, and their relationship as the teetering rocks. 

They had separated six months ago when she finally left him citing irreconcilable differences and she had taken her own apartment. What she should have said, if she were being completely honest, was he was one hundred percent so unlike she was and they never should have married in the first place, but she was young, dumb, vulnerable, and lonely. Now, she was too polite to say so. So it was easier to say they had simply grown apart and work had changed her and she was merely growing in a way he had not, so she was moving on in a different way. More like it was time for her to move on without him.

The rest of her year was as uninspiring as her personal relationship with her husband; her parents had been killed in an accident and, as an only child, she had nowhere to turn for comfort. Her husband had done little for her in terms of being there for her when they were killed, his response was simply, "It did not seem like you were ever very close anyway. It should not be hard for you to get over them." She thought about his comments for a moment as she got up to make a cup of tea. He wouldn't even know if she had been attached to them or not, he was not very intimate with her, so he how could he have known with whom she had a connection.

Oh well, she thought to herself, I am on my own now so I am not interested in what he thinks anymore. Besides, she thought to herself, I have all my boys here... Fanch LeDan, Peter Max, Thomas Rutt, Romero, Britto, and last but not least, Fabien Perez. It is kind of a lonely existence, thinking of paintings as "my boys", but they were gorgeous, paintings she had only dreamed of when she was with her ex, but now they were beautifully decorating her tiny apartment. She felt like she lived in the world's smallest private art gallery, as she walked around looking at the stunning pieces she had accumulated over the past several months. 

Mallory sat down on the couch with her tea, exhausted as she thought about the task ahead of her, unpacking her luggage from her weeklong Mexican vacation. She had packed far too many clothes, as she always did, and had exceeded her vacation budget by three times what she had expected by going to the art auction and buying another nude by Thomas Rutt to hang on the already over-crowded walls of her bedroom. 

However, she rationalized; she had to go to the auction if for no other reason but to get the chance to meet the sexy auctioneer. Of course, her plan worked, by the second day of the cruise, she was in his cabin, dress in a heap on the floor; she found out very quickly exactly what was up for bid for the rest of the cruise. But, as is typical for Mallory, she lost interest after one interlude and she had to avoid him for the rest of the cruise. 

She kept herself busy with the rest of the passengers and crew, though; after being in an almost sexless marriage for the past three years, Mallory was not about to let one opportunity slip by her while she was on the first vacation she had ever taken alone, especially when there was no chance she would ever see any of these men again... and even that one woman. 

Mallory looked over at the suitcases and thought about unpacking them, it would be a daunting task, hanging up every dress she did not wear, laundering the ones she did, refolding the clothing she tried on and opted not to wear... she sighed, she simply did not have the energy or desire to unpack right now; besides she had other things on her mind currently, mainly memories of her trysts from the cruise. She arose from the couch and went to her bedroom, thinking a nap might refresh her and give her the needed strength to finish her chores for the afternoon.

She undressed completely and got between the sheets of her bed. It felt good to be home in her own bed. She relaxed her head on the pillow and instinctively put her hand between her legs and slowly began to rub as she thought about her days on the cruise and each one of her lovers... how they felt, how they tasted, how they smelled. Her eyes closed as she slowly caressed the soft folds between her legs feeling herself grow wetter as she thought first of the night with the auctioneer, how she knelt on the floor of his cabin and sucked his cock mindlessly but could not stop thinking about what a deal she could get on a painting, and how she almost let out a giggle.

Then she slipped a finger inside herself as she thought about the next day as she spent the day flirting with the young man she met from Canada, she could not even remember his name, but she had such an incredible day with him; they went snorkeling in Mazatlan, he told her all about his family, his life, he acted like he was falling in love; but they drank all day, had wild and crazy sex in his cabin all night. She slipped in another finger, two fingers, slowly moving in and out, in and out, she could feel her juices flowing freely as she remembered him, how strong and virile he was when he took her, fucking her so roughly, so passionately. Then, she remembered him looking for her the next day, other passengers telling her, but she avoided him, as she had already moved on.

The next day, she met a couple, she spent all day with them, playing cards on deck and drinking margaritas. It seemed almost innocuous at first, until the afternoon when they invited her back to their cabin and she accepted. The second they closed the cabin door there was no question what the afternoon held in store for them, and Mallory did not question it. She surprised even herself as she shed her clothes as quickly as they did and accepted kisses and touches from the woman, she was even more surprised when she reciprocated. She touched the woman, kissed her, licked her, all while her husband watched, and joined in when he felt it was appropriate. 

Mallory was touching herself in a frenzy now as she thought about that day, the memories almost overwhelming her as she thought about the woman's fingers between her legs instead of her own. She had never been with a woman before, and the soft touch of her fingers brought her to a climax so quickly, so beautifully, Mallory was almost near tears. It was such an emotional experience and when the afternoon was over, she was drained.

She continued to finger herself, thinking of the woman and her husband; she brought her wet fingers to her mouth, tasting them, licking them, thinking of the other woman, wondering when she might taste another woman again, pondering whether or not it was something she would ever do again anyway, or if it was just "vacation Mallory". 

Close to climaxing, she thought of the bartender she met the night his shift was just about to end, and how she brazenly fucked him on top of the bar one night. She remembered how she sat on the bar and any other passenger or crew member could have come in at any time and seen them. She furiously slid her fingers in and out of her swollen pussy, over her hardened clit, so close to climaxing, with her free hand, she pinched and twisted her nipples remembering the way the bartender had reached down at one point and had sucked hard on one of them; finally, she came. 

The release was not near as good as it had been when she was on the cruise and with somebody else. She felt a little empty and alone as she looked around the room and realized she was alone. But then again, she thought, the release she felt on vacation was over very quickly as well. The second it was over she needed it again immediately, and from somebody else, as if she was never fulfilled. Something was missing in her life; she just did not know what.

The Story of Mallory Ch. 02



Monday morning came far too soon for Mallory; she sat in her car at the Starbuck's drive-through waiting for her venti Chai Tea Latte made with a shot of raspberry and non-fat milk. I am so predictable, she thought to herself, as she gave the barista a five dollar bill and dumped the change in the tip jar sitting on the ledge of the window. The cute young brunette handed her the hot drink along with a straw, she knew Mallory requested a straw every Monday when she indulged in the high calorie sugary treat once a week. "Thank you," she said, smiling at the girl as she drove away, placing the drink in the cup holder, turning up the volume on the radio and driving off to the plant just north of town.

Mallory pulled up to the parking lot, slowly easing into the same space she always did, third space from the last in the furthest row from the building; it was not an assigned space, just force of habit. She sighed as she sat in the car for a moment collecting her things, tea in one hand, purse strap slipped over her wrist, and the strap to the polka-dotted square lunch cooler grasped in her right hand. As she stepped out of the car, she looked at the beige stucco building where she had worked for almost two years as an accounting specialist, it was not the worst job she had ever performed, but she was getting bored.

She took a deep breath as she started across the parking lot; well, she thought, I cannot put it off any longer, I guess my vacation is over and it is time to get back to reality. As she walked in through the glass front door past the receptionist, she smiled warmly, "Good morning, Elka," she greeted the ageing woman behind the desk. Elka, the rotund German woman always had a ready smile for anyone who came through the door. She may not always transfer the phone calls correctly, often getting accounts receivables and payables mixed up, and screwing up all the mail, but she had an incredibly friendly personality and visitors and staff simply adored seeing her at the desk.

"Oh, velcome back, dear," she responded to Mallory in her thick accent, pushing the button under her desk, buzzing her through as she saw Mallory fumbling in her purse for her key fob to get through the locked door. "Don't you vorry... I buzz you in."

"Thank you, Elka. You're a life saver," Mallory winked, "I'm afraid I would be late if I had to dig through here trying to find it. I think my mind is still on vacation."

With that, Mallory walked through the door and headed back to her cubicle to get settled in for her work day; she knew it would be challenging as everyone would want to know what her vacation had been like. She was not even all the way down the hall and at her desk when the parade of co-workers asking after her had begun, "Hey, Mal, did you have a fabulous time?" it was Suzie, the customer service woman who sometimes loved, sometimes hated Mallory.

It put her on guard every time Suzie spoke her name; she was not certain who was talking to her, Evil Suzie or Angel Suzie. She was not the only one who had this issue with her, most people in the office had the same challenges with her, and behind her back she was called ES and AS when others referred to her wondering what her mood was that day. So when she heard her voice that day, she cringed, not knowing if it was ES or AS with her singsong comment about her vacation; Mallory did not even want to acknowledgement, but out of politeness, she did.

Pausing in the doorway to her cubicle, she turned to Suzie and said, "It was great, Suzie, too short, of course," indicating the fact she was only out of the office for a week. "But, I had a fabulous time. Guess I better get settled in now and start playing catch up, though," she stated, turning her back to the woman as she put down her belongings and pushed the power button on her computer.

"Well, I guess you don't have time to talk then," the woman said icily, clearly proving that it was Evil Suzie in the plant today. Just as well, Mallory thought as the woman walked away, I seriously do not have the energy to deal with her.

She was content to be busy for a change, as the work here had not been challenging since her first six months on the job. Mallory was more than willing to help anybody else complete their tasks when she was finished with hers, but with the new Sarbanes-Oxley rules put into place, there was little she could do to help others or to be cross-trained. She found it challenging to look busy, she simply did not have enough work; so in order to keep her somewhat motivated, her manager had her placed on every committee in the plant he could in order to keep her.

Mallory was happy to have such diversity in her job with the committee work, and it gave her a chance to get to know everybody in the facility. She enjoyed working with the shop employees; it was a nice change of pace sometimes from the stuffy white-collar workers who she found could take themselves way too seriously sometimes. It seemed she was well received by all in the plant, from the shop employees, her direct co-workers, middle management, and executive management, she seemed to fit in with ease regardless of which group she was working with at the time.

The morning passed by so quickly since she had a stack of work on her desk from the week she had been on vacation. A few people had stopped by her desk trying to distract her from working, but she was able to politely tell them she would catch up with them later in the week when she did not feel so inundated with paperwork. By the time it was 12:30, she was eager for her afternoon run; she headed for the women's restroom and grabbed her gym bag from the locker tossing it onto the bench as she sat down and started to remove her shoes.

She changed into her workout gear, placed her clothing into her locker, and then went to the mirror to put her hair up into a high ponytail. Just then, the door opened and in walked ES, UGH, she thought, just what I need when I am on my way out to go for a relaxing run. Mallory quickly put in her earphones and started to fumble with her MP3 player so she could pretend she was not able to hear her.

"Oh, don't worry, I don't have anything to say to you," ES said as she looked at herself in the mirror, fixing her makeup.

Now Mallory felt bad, maybe Suzie was not as "evil" as everyone thought, "Sorry, Suzie, I am just exhausted after my vacation... and when you came to my desk, I had just walked in really needed to get to work."

"No worries," she replied, "I had just kind of missed you. I really hate all of the other women around here. There was nobody to talk to when you were gone."

It was then Mallory noticed as Suzie was looking in the mirror, she had been wiping mascara away from her eyes, and her eyes were somewhat red, as if she had been crying. "Are you okay?" she asked her.

"Not really, Mal," she responded, "Jake left me. I caught the SOB cheating on me last week, then HE left ME. Can you believe that?" she said, emphasizing the he and the me as she spoke, her voice starting to crack and the tears welling up again.

"Oh, Suzie, I'm so sorry. Men can be such dogs. Do you want to go out after work and get a drink? Maybe talk about it?" she asked, secretly hoping she would say no, but knowing the girl would want to.

"Yes, Mal! That would be great. I couldn't wait for you to get back, I have been so lonely. Where do you want to go? Oh, I guess it does not really matter. How about the place just down the boulevard? Or somewhere closer to your house? You pick, I'm easy and game for anything, you know me," she was talking a mile a minute now, her mood changing from somber to excited.

"It doesn't matter to me, Suzie, how about something close to my house. You know us, we'll drink too much and need to walk home. Why don't you go home after work and grab some clothes in case you need to stay over? You can stay on the fold out." With that, Mallory looked down at her watch and decided she was going to have to do an incredibly short run today, as Suzie had taken up so much of her time already.

Usually after a run, she felt relieved, calm, and ready to face the afternoon; however, today was different, her run was too short, and after her impromptu evening plans with Suzie, she knew she would not be able to relax tonight. But, that was not all; she and Suzie had previously had an encounter Mallory had hoped to forget and she thinks the other girl had, but could not be certain.

They had been on a corporate retreat where they both had been interested in the same man, a salesman from another division. The evening turned into an embarrassing display of each of them behaving in an increasingly overtly sexual manner until the man blatantly asked for a threesome. It went so far as the three of them ending up in the man's room, but at the last-minute Mallory backed out, she just could not see herself going through with it; but, she is fairly certain Suzie would have done just about anything.

As Mallory got into the shower to wash off from her run, she started to think about that night, up in the mountains in a private cabin; what would have been so bad if I had participated? she thought to herself. After all, I did actually have a threesome on the cruise, and I rather enjoyed myself, I guess I am not such a prude, the thoughts flowed freely in and out of her mind of the threesome she did have, and the one she didn't. The hot water washed over her skin turning it bright pink; she poured soap on her loofah and began to scrub her body, mindlessly watching the suds move across her creamy skin, her calves, her thighs, her stomach.

She started to think more about Suzie; she wondered what it would be like to be alone with her tonight, and what it might be like if she remembered about the night up in the cabin. Mallory dropped the loofah to the floor and let the hot water keep flowing as she slowly began to caress her skin, she squeezed her nipples, gently tugging and pulling at them, then moved her hand slowly downwards. She moved it across her stomach, down between her thighs and began to rub her smooth pussy; she took a deep breath, inhaling as she slid a finger deep inside herself wondering what it might be like to be with Suzie tonight.

She took the shower head down, it was attached by a long hose, and turned the nozzle to a pulsating stream of water, then turned it towards her pussy; she used her finger to slowly rub her clit, the water beating steadily, her finger moving in and out, the steam filling up the stall. She could feel her breathing more rapidly as she was getting close to cumming, her pace quickened, her finger on her clit rubbing harder, she dropped the shower head to the floor, then used one hand to rub her pussy, the other went back up to her breast to tease and pull on it, harder and harder until she finally came.

Mallory picked the shower head up off the floor and finished rinsing off, turning the water down to cool first and taking a few deep breaths before stepping out of the stall. She dried off carefully, avoiding touching any sensitive areas of her body, feeling as if she could cum again at any moment, and then she got dressed again and headed for her cubicle.

She had a difficult time working the rest of the afternoon as she thought about what her evening would be like with Suzie, she hoped she could keep her mind on being supportive; but, at this point, she was not sure. It seems ever since the cruise, she could not keep her mind off of sex. 



The Story of Mallory Ch. 03



Mallory was somewhat anxious as she waited for Suzie to show up that Monday night; the evening could go in a myriad of directions and none of them would result in her getting to bed at a decent hour to be ready for work the next day. She looked in the refrigerator, thank goodness, she thought to herself, one more bottle of Chateau Ste. Michelle, at least I can have a glass of wine before she gets here. Taking one of the wine glasses she received as a wedding gift but had kept packed away for years, they had no use for them as a couple since her ex never drank a drop; she slowly poured herself a glass, watching as the liquid swirled around the bottom of the glass as it rose three-quarters of the way to the top.

Walking over to the stereo, she put on her favorite Rod Stewart CD, and then thought about the situation; she was not trying to seduce Suzie or even create a certain mellow mood. She took the CD out, selected a radio station with current hits, and turned it to a reasonable volume, then looked around the room ensuring everything looked neat and tidy. When she felt satisfied with the room and its' contents, she settled into a big overstuffed chair with a magazine, mindlessly flipping through it as she nervously awaited the buzzer gate.

She nearly spilled her wine when she jumped at the intercom buzzing, alerting her Suzie was pulling up to the gate and needed to be allowed entrance onto the property. Mallory got up from her comfortable position on the chair, walked to the counter where the device was located, and pushed the button to let her friend in through the gate. She took a deep breath as she pondered what the evening held when Suzie walked through the door. Would she be a crying blubbering mess? she thought, or would she want to go out and party, completely forgetting about her boyfriend of 6 years? Either way, Mallory was determined to be there for her.

When Suzie walked in, there was no question in Mallory's mind she did not want to sit around and cry about John, she wanted to go out and forget he ever existed, or at least try. Mallory tried not to make it obvious, but she had never seen her co-worker look more gorgeous, she looked her up and down as she took in every inch, noticing for the first time how leggy she was. She was wearing an incredibly short black dress, thigh high stockings, thigh high suede boots, and had perfect hair and makeup.

"Suzie, I'm... I'm ... stunned, honestly. I don't mean to be rude, but in the office, you kind of dress like you just came off of the farm... I had no idea," Mallory meant to sound as genuine as she could without appearing jealous.

"Well, I just felt like dressing up. I haven't exactly felt good about myself since John left. Do you think I look too slutty?" she asked, truly looking for an honest opinion.

"I wish I could say differently, but you look gorgeous. Anybody else would look slutty in that, but you are totally pulling it off," Mallory responded genuinely, feeling true affection for Suzie, "Now I feel all schlumpy, and I thought I looked okay," she said as she looked down at her black pencil skirt, heels and sweater set.

"That's okay. Let's go look in your closet... I'm sure we can come up with something fabulous for you!" Suzie responded eagerly. "Oh, is that wine? Pour me a glass, and let's get busy."

With that, she headed to the bedroom, leaving Mallory behind to pour her some wine and catch up to her. Moments later, wine in hand, Mallory walked in to a hurricane of clothing being swirled around her room as Suzie flung items out of her closet saying, "This won't do, nor this, or this."

"Here's your wine," Mallory called out, trying to get the barrage of flying clothing to stop, if only thinking of the huge mess she would have to pick up later.

"Oh, god!!! This is perfect!" she heard Mallory exclaim as she came out of her closet, picking up the glass of wine off of the dresser as she did. She was holding up the tiniest red dress ever, it had a deep V in the back with a large slit up the side revealing a lot of thigh. "You have to wear this," she said, emphasizing the word have.

"Suzie!" Mallory cried, "I have not worn that dress in years. I can't wear that, I'd be so embarrassed. No way!"

"Oh, come on... you'll be gorgeous..." she begged.

After a little more pleading, Mallory gulped down the rest of her wine and finally had the courage to put on her little red dress. She selected a pair of strappy black sandals with 4 inch heels, and red lace panties to complete her outfit. Finally, they were ready to go out.

They walked the two blocks down the street to the tiny club, pausing for a moment when they got to the door to adjust to the darkness. For a Monday, it was actually pretty busy; it must be the two for one wing special, Mallory thought to herself as they pushed past the crowd of people to make their way to two empty barstools.

The bartender came over immediately to take their order, it wasn't hard to see why, the place was full of men and they were the only two women in there dressed like they were ready to go out; the only other women were dressed like lumberjacks, plaid shirts, work shirts, and jeans. Mallory ordered a rum and coke, Suzie a jack and coke, they were they to drink and commiserate about their failed love lives, no fruity cocktails for them tonight.

Within minutes men were swarming around the pair offering to buy them drinks, asking them to dance and play pool, and asking for their numbers. Mallory was certain Suzie was looking for something easy that night and was surprised to hear the woman respond, "Thanks for the offer, gentlemen, but I am here with my friend tonight, we are really just here to talk. Maybe some other night."

Soon, the men backed off and the conversation got deeper as the two women talked about life, work, loves, and lost loves. They drank more than either of them could remember drinking in quite some time and by the time they left the club, they had taken their shoes off and were giggling and laughing as they strolled arm in arm back to Mallory's apartment.

Suddenly, Suzie burst into song right as they were walking down the street, "She walked up to me and she asked me to dance, I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola..." Mallory burst out laughing, then joined in singing with her, "L-o-l-a Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola."

They continued down the street, all the way back to the apartment singing, "Well I'm not the worlds most physical guy, But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine, Oh my Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola, Well I'm not dumb but I can't understand."

By the time they got to the apartment, they were laughing so hard and having such a good time together, they had forgotten all about any of the times they had ever been sworn enemies at work, and there were plenty of those times. They got to the door, Mallory fumbled around in her purse as Suzie kept singing at the top of her lungs, "Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man, Oh my Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola."

"Shhhhh.... The neighbors are going to hear you," Mallory admonished, only half-heartedly, mostly enjoying herself and not really caring what her stuffy neighbors had to say. She finally found the keys and unlocked the door, the force of both of them leaning against it as she opened it slamming the door against the wall with a loud bang. They both looked at each other, giggling, "Shhh...." They both said, fingers pressed up against each other's lips.

Mallory closed the door with her foot, at the same moment, she and Suzie locked eyes, embraced, Suzie pushed up against her, pinning her to the door, they kissed. Mallory's mind was a melee as she wondered if this is the right thing to do, if she should allow this, if she should fight it... but her body took over. She kissed Suzie back, passionately, both women standing at the door, tongues swirling in each other's mouths tasting each other.

They did not move from the entry-way as they began to tug and pull at each other's clothing; Mallory threw the shoes she had been carrying in her hand, Suzie dropped the boots. Mallory reached behind Suzie and unzipped the black dress, helping her out of it; Suzie helped Mallory by pulling the red dress off over her head. Suzie was standing there in black thigh highs, panties and her bra, Mallory in her red lace panties and bra. Suzie reached behind Mallory, unhooking her bra, taking in a deep breath as she sees Mallory's breasts free from the bra.

She stood in front of her, looked at Mallory, then bending down taking one breast into her mouth, her tongue flicking the nipple, gently biting and pulling on it, then the other. Mallory moans lowly, Suzie's hand reaches down between her legs and begins to rub, over the material of the lace, she can feel how wet her friend is becoming, causing her to moan even more. Suzie hooked her finger into the sides of the red lace panties, slowly pulling them down, bending forward as she does, her mouth level with Mallory's perfectly clean-shaven pussy. Leaning forward, slowly licking the brunette's pussy as she continues to remove her panties; Mallory gasped loudly, putting her hand on Suzie's head guiding her to her pussy.

Suzie stood back up and removed her panties and bra, leaving on her stockings; she took Mallory by the hand, leading her from the entry-way to the couch. Mallory was completely willing to do anything at that point, no longer apprehensive and embarrassed. She followed Suzie to the couch and sat as indicated, spreading her legs. Suzie knelt on the floor in front of her, continuing to lick Mallory, smoothly and slowly licking the folds of her pussy, then inserting one finger, then two, then three and begins to fuck her with them. Mallory began moving her hips back and forth, coaxing the fingers to fuck her harder, begging them to move inside of her.

Suzie licked and kissed her friend's inner thighs as she continued to finger-fuck her, then moved up her body, licking, kissing, and sucking her breasts, sending Mallory into a frenzy of sexual desire. She fucked the woman faster and harder, enticing her to cum, Mallory moving her hips faster and faster. Suzie could feel her getting closer, so she took one finger out and slipped it into Mallory's ass, causing the woman to cum instantly, bucking roughly against Suzie's fingers.

Mallory lay spent on the couch, satiated, but wanting Suzie to feel as good as she did. She reached out for Suzie to move up next to her on the couch and take her place, which she gladly did. Mallory said, "I'll be right back. I have something I think you'll like."

She returned with a vibrator, it was small, pink, but incredibly powerful; when she turned it on, it vibrated so powerfully her arm started to shake. She placed it against Suzie's pussy and started to rub; she could tell by the way she moaned the woman was enjoying it. Mallory moved the vibrator and replaced it with her tongue, tasting her, sliding her tongue as deeply as she could inside of her. She continued to fuck her with the vibrator, in out, in out, and licking her pussy. She was dripping wet, pushing her hips forward, trying to feel every pulse of the vibrator, every lick of Mallory's tongue.

Soon, she could not take anymore; Mallory could tell Suzie was about to cum, she took the vibrator and turned it up to the highest speed; lying on her side next to Suzie, then slid it in and out as she licked the outside of her pussy. Suzie was screaming out in ecstasy as she came in waves, over and over again. Finally, she finishes; Mallory turned off the vibrator and threw it on the floor. She laid her head down on Suzie's thigh and fell asleep.

Mallory woke up the next morning with an extremely fuzzy head and an empty apartment; she was not certain exactly what happened; until she found the note: Dear Mallory, thanks for a great night! It was exactly what I needed. You are a great friend. I can't wait to get together again. Always, Suzie.

Great, thought Mallory, what have I done? And am I going to do it again?



The Story of Mallory Ch. 04



Following her liaison with Suzie that fateful Monday night when Mallory thought she would simply offer her a shoulder to cry on, the 30-something brunette was apprehensive about what their work relationship would be like. She was concerned Suzie might get the wrong idea about her and she may want more than a simple friendship. However, by the time she had her first phone call at work on Tuesday morning, all worries about whether or not Suzie even remembered what had happened between them vanished; she was back to her bipolar self.

Mallory glanced over at her phone as it rang, nervously answering when she saw Suzie's name and extension on the Caller ID, "Good morning, this is Mallory."

"Yeah, I know. You don't have to answer so formally when it's an inner-office call, you know. That's why we have Caller ID," Suzie blurted out. Mallory sighed as she waited for her to continue, "I have a customer that shows they are on credit hold and I need you to take them off, I have to send them some parts today."

Mallory drew in a deep breath, relieved she would not have to deal with their personal situation of the intimacy they shared the night before. However, she was drained and did not feel like dealing with Suzie's particular brand of moodiness today. "What is the customer name?" Mallory asked flatly, getting ready to key it into the system.

As soon as she heard the name, Mallory immediately recognized the customer as one of her past due accounts she had been working for the past few weeks trying to get them to make a payment, or at least a payment arrangement. "Suzie, I cannot take them off of credit hold, they haven't been paying and they have a huge account balance."

With that, Suzie became irate, claiming Mallory would not release the customer from hold as a personal campaign against her. Finally, in the middle of Suzie's tirade, Mallory interrupted her, "If you need to take it to the Controller, I can transfer you to his extension. Would you like me to?"

"Yes," answered Suzie smugly, "I know he'll take it off of hold for me."

Exhausted from the experience, Mallory transferred the call then let the situation leave her mind; the last thing she needed now was to think of Suzie in any capacity. It was the fiscal year end and she would be working for the next 11 days straight to complete all of the balancing, reports, and tax filings she was responsible for in her department. She had enjoyed her vacation and her sexual trysts in the past few weeks, but it was time for her to get her head into business.

A few weeks after the close of the fiscal year Mallory finally had a chance to relax and catch her breath, she sat in her living room one evening relaxing with a glass of wine as she picked up her favorite book. She settled back in her favorite comfortable chair as she gingerly opened her well-worn copy of The Story of O, ignoring the impulse to skip ahead to her favorite sultry parts of the story. Sinking further into the chair as she sipped her wine and read page after page of the steamy novel, she thought to herself, where can I find a man like Sir Stephen who will just dominate me and turn me into a slave?

Mallory was startled at her own thoughts, wondering where those ideas had come from; she had always been fairly independent, to the point it destroyed her last relationship. Almost on cue, her doorbell rang; she was a little stunned when she jumped up to look through the peephole to discover it was her almost ex-husband. She thought they had said all they could say to each other, the last time they saw each other they had a knock-down drag out fight about how disconnected they were, how much she drank, how little they had in common, you name it, they fought about it.

Mallory felt claustrophobic as she started to unlock the deadbolt, she had no idea what he could possibly want from her at this point. "Hi, Mal," he said casually when she opened the door, barely cracking it wide enough to see his face.

"What do you want, Kyle?" she asked him callously, not moving the door.

Pushing on the door as if he still had a right, he walked in past her, "You left a few things at the house, I thought I'd return them to you."

He made himself at home, sitting down on her sofa, looking around the room nosily.

"Really, Kyle?" Mallory asked, "I don't see a box, and, it's been months, why tonight?"

"Wow," he said, ignoring her questions as he looked at her art, finally noticing, "I see you bought that painting you wanted forever. Who is that again? Fabio?"

"No! You cretin," she admonished, "It is Fabien Perez, and it is called 'Waiting for the Romance to Come Back'. But, I know you did not come here to talk about art, or to bring my stuff, since you don't even have it, why are you here?"

"Mal, come on, you know me, I'm a guy," he smiled slyly, patting the couch next to him, inviting her to sit next to him.

"You have some nerve," Mallory practically shouted, "get out of my apartment. Now!"

"Baby, come on," he cooed boyishly, "it's been months since we've been together; surely you must need it, too."

Mallory did not have the heart to tell him she had not exactly been chaste since they had been separated, but she did not necessarily think she owed him anything either. They verbally sparred for a while, Mallory poured herself another glass of wine, and soon, she found herself curled up on the couch next to him.

The combination of the wine, the sexually explicit novel she had been reading, the fact it had been a few weeks since her last tête-à-tête, and the familiarity all lent itself to Mallory feeling more than willing to indulge. She was hoping their encounter would be more passionate than their relationship had been.

They began to make out on the couch; first, softly kissing, then their tongues began to probe each other's mouths. "I can taste your wine. You've been drinking, you know I hate that," Kyle said, breaking the mood, "Do you mind going and brushing your teeth?"

"Yes, I do," Mallory responded somewhat bitterly, "maybe we just forgo kissing."

Mallory moved aggressively, almost angrily to the floor, kneeling between his legs. Normally she was not the aggressor, but she did not care what he thought at this point, she was hurt, angry, humiliated. She looked up at him, unfastening his pants then pulling at them, rubbing his bulge under the fabric. He appeared a little angry as well, irritated to have lost some of the control, but he stood up and removed his pants anyway, anticipating what was about to happen.

Mallory started to kiss and lick his inner thigh, tenderly at first, then her anger took over as she looked up at him and saw his contented face as he lay back, enjoying himself; she bit deeply into his thigh. He grabbed her roughly by the hair and forced her face crudely toward his cock; she was surprised by how excited and hot his actions made her. She immediately wanted to please him, she looked up at him, sweetly, taking his cock fully into her mouth as deeply as she could, letting him fill her mouth, her throat.

Taking her mouth off of his cock long enough to lean back and take off her shirt and bra, Mallory then went back to sucking and licking, swirling her tongue over the tip as she slid his hard member over her lips, savoring the feel. Again, she stopped long enough to stand up and take off her skirt and panties, he reached forward, sliding a finger into her pussy, "Oh, baby, you are so wet," he sighed. She moaned as he removed his fingers, she dropped back to her knees, taking his rock hard cock back into her mouth, sucking him all the way to the back of her throat, feeling his balls on her lips.

Wanting to feel his cock inside her more than anything, she climbed up his body, straddling his cock, easily sliding down onto it as he moved into her with one thrust. She moved her hips slowly up and down his cock, brushing her breasts against his chest, moaning into his ear, "You cock feels so good inside me."

Mallory climbed back down off of his cock, surprising him, taking it in her hand and guiding it back into her mouth, slowly licking every bit of her juices off of him. Licking from top to bottom, she licks the base, the head, and then sucks it back down into her throat, moving it slowly in and out of her mouth, looking up at him until he cannot stand it anymore. He grabs her by the hair, pulling her back up onto his hips and thrusts his cock into her waiting pussy, fucking her harshly, in and out, in and out, "Oh, baby, that was so hot," he whispers in her ear.

I know him, she thought; he will not last long like this, so she moaned, "Oh, yes, that feels so good, don't stop." He fucked her harder, she felt his thighs start to tense up, she could tell by his face. He came hard in her, pulled her tightly to him for a moment then quickly pushed her off, cum dripping down her thighs onto the couch. He stood up, "You got a towel or something for me to clean off with?"

Mallory pointed to the bathroom, feeling dissatisfied and empty, anxious for him to leave. By the time he came out of the bathroom, she was dressed and sipping on her wine. "I guess some things never change," Kyle stated, pointing to the wine, back to his old self, making Mallory regret what she had just done.

"Yep, they never change," she answered, making more of a statement about him than about herself.

With that, Kyle left for the evening.

Mallory sat back down in her comfortable chair, picked up The Story of O and read until she fell asleep when she dreamt of Masters and slaves, a life completely different from her own.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 05



After Mallory's less than romantic obligatory sex-with-the-ex encounter with Kyle, she thought she had seen the last of him, at least until they started divorce proceedings, seemingly the next logical step. Instead, they started down a path in a very different direction, if only she had a crystal ball, Mallory would have seen it was the beginning of the end and not the happily ever after she had longed for.

When Kyle first approached her a few weeks after their rendezvous, Mallory could not help but believe he was joking at first, "Mal, just do a little bit of research, read some articles and see how it makes you feel. You may be surprised," he directed calmly, almost Zen like.

"Okay," Mallory answered mollifying him at the time thinking to herself, maybe he'll get bored and move on as usual. He left her with a list of websites he wanted her to peruse and some terminology he wanted her to look up and become familiar with before he was to come back the following week.

As she looked over the list, Mallory's head started to spin; she felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole, like Alice. She wondered why he suddenly had an interest in things like Masters, slaves, submission, dominance, kajira, and Gorean lifestyle. Her mind flashed to what she knew of him and she remembered him to be somewhat narcissistic, immature, and largely uninterested in sex; she always had a much higher sex drive than he had.

Mallory poured herself a glass of wine and headed for the computer to spend the evening researching the terms on the list. As she started reading each one, she realized more and more how much they suited her personality. With each click she devoured the information, connected with it, and wanted even more. When she realized she had finished an entire bottle of wine and her eyes were weary from reading so much text her eyes flashed to the clock and saw it was 3:38 AM, she had read for 8 hours. She had to be up for work in just a few hours.

However, when Mallory got into bed, her mind was racing with visions of everything she had just read, the dominant men, the girls submitting to them, the collars, the cuffs, the rituals, and even the punishments, it was all so exciting to her. She knew she was not going to get any sleep without having some release first; she reached down between her legs and felt her wetness through her panties, moaning to herself.

Mallory slid her panties down over her thighs and spread her legs wide, slowly rubbing her swollen pussy lips with her fingers. She moved her hands up over her stomach and up to her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples. Then, she moved her hand back down to her dripping wet pussy, not very interested in foreplay, even with herself tonight. She leaned over to her nightstand and took out her favorite reliable vibrator, turning the setting on the highest speed; she simply wanted to cum, now.

The vibrator buzzed loudly as she moved it across her pussy lips and moved it to the wet opening of her pussy; she pushed it in deeply, coating it in her juices. She pulled it out slowly, moving it back and forth as fast as she could, feeling the vibrations moving roughly across her clit. Mallory fucked the vibrator as hard as she could until she came in waves bucking against it.

Mallory turned the vibrator off and tossed it to the floor, her pussy still felt like it was buzzing. She slid two fingers inside, coating them in her cum almost feeling her pussy contract around them as she did. She opened her lips as she brought her fingers to them, licking them clean, tasting herself, sucking on them as she slowly drifted off to sleep, and dreaming of becoming a slave.

By the time Mallory saw Kyle the following week, she was so amped up from all she had read that she was willing to say yes to anything he asked of her. She had never masturbated so much in her life; she was fingering herself constantly it seemed, at work under her desk, in the car, and at home she always had a toy in her pussy or her ass.

"So, what did you think of everything?" he asked her over dinner that night.

"That is kind of an open-ended question, don't you think?" she answered his question with a question.

"Don't you mean, Sir, or Master?" he retorted.

Mallory looked at him in disbelief; he had wanted her to do some research and asked her what she thought, and now he was simply assuming. "Uhm, no, I don't," she replied indignantly.

"What did you just say?" anger flashed in his eyes and she could tell the evening had taken a dark turn.

"I said, that I do not believe we are on that level yet," she responded trying to explain, "my understanding is we are in the discussion phase and have not decided anything. Christ, I thought we were still separated and headed for divorce," she swore.

"You can still show some respect, slut," he practically spat the words at her, the veins starting to show in his neck. "Come here, NOW!" he commanded.

Unsure of what he was going to do next, Mallory felt compelled to obey him; she got up from her chair and walked towards him apprehensively. Almost compulsively, she looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes as he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the couch.

"Lift up your skirt and bend over," he demanded.

Without saying a word, Mallory obeyed, pulling her skirt up over her thighs revealing her thong. She bent over the couch and placed her hands on the cushions; she could hear him pulling off his belt. Suddenly she felt a rush of panic rage through her body, but at the same time, a stronger sense of excitement and desire.

The first sting of his belt came down hard across her ass with a sudden thwack, filling her eyes with tears. She cried out in pain, but he didn't stop, he swung again, hitting her thighs when she flinched. After the second hit, he asked her, "What do you call me?"

Stoned silence.

Again, the slap of the belt came down across her ass, and again, two more lashings, welting her skin. He asked again, more angrily this time, "I asked you, what are you supposed to call me?"

Stoned silence.

The belt continued to come down across her already pink and raised skin, six more times for a total of ten; after every two lashings, he would stop and ask her the same question. Each time he asked, his voice would become more and more angry, increasingly unnerved.

Mallory could not bring herself to answer him, not in the way he wished to be answered; not today, maybe someday. It was too soon, and she was too stubborn.

When he was finished, she stood there, bent over the couch, knees trembling; she was surprised to find she was dripping wet. The beating had excited her more than it had scared her; she was thrilled at the prospect that it had made him want her, too. Mallory had read about how often Masters would whip their slaves and it often turned into a sexual event afterwards, reading about it, thinking about the pain, she could not imagine; now, she was dying to be fucked.

As she turned around, she knew immediately she was not going to have his cock inside her tonight, soothing away the pain. He looked more furious than she had ever seen him; she started to say something, "I'm sorry, I just don't..."

"I'm leaving," he sneered, "we'll see if you can do better next week."

He left.

Kyle slammed the door heatedly as he left leaving Mallory to wonder again what she was getting into with him. She could not deny what she thought about wanting to become a slave, though, and she could not become one without a Master.

Mallory took a shower that night letting the cool water wash over her welted and bruised skin thinking, what can I do to be a better slave to him? What did I do wrong?



The Story of Mallory Ch. 06



Mallory was nervous throughout the following week as she reflected on what had happened with Kyle during her first foray into the world of submission. It was nothing like she had expected; not that she was a nymphomaniac, she realized there was more to the relationship than sex, but she thought there would be some.

As she sat at the makeup counter in her bathroom fixing her hair, Mallory tried to disregard the fact she was more apprehensive than excited over Kyle's expected arrival in the next hour. Perhaps, she thought, my expectations are just too high, and I have read too much about how other's live.

Mallory headed to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine, hoping it would assuage her anxieties, but she completely forgot Kyle's irritation every time he smelled alcohol on her breath. She drank the wine in long smooth gulps, feeling it warm her belly and calm her tensions. By the time the buzzer rang for the gate she had relaxed enough that it made her jump.

The fear of disappointing him never even entered her mind as she met him at the door dressed in a micro-mini, tank top, and heels; in fact, she thought he would be quite pleased with her.

Kyle walked past her, barely noticing her as he made his way to the couch, "Hmmmm," he started, "I guess you weren't planning on going to dinner," he continued as he looked her up and down, obviously disapproving of the way she was dressed.

"Well, uh... uh..." she stammered, "I uh..."

"Don't bother with your excuses, Mal," he reprimanded, "I told you to be ready to go to dinner, and look at you. Do you think that's acceptable?"

"I did," she responded sulkily looking at the floor, afraid to meet his eyes now. If he did not think she was dressed appropriately to go to a casual dinner, she obviously had no idea what he wanted from her.

"Looks like you better find something to make for dinner now," he demanded as he kicked off his shoes and powered on the television flipping to a documentary about war planes.

Mallory stared at the back of his head in disbelief; she felt like she had jumped in a time machine and was back in their bad marriage. Yet, there was something in her that felt the need to submit, to obey; she wanted to be a good girl more than anything, and to know she had pleased him.

However, she knew she had not been pleasing thus far, still she was going to do her best to change; starting tonight. Mallory began to scrutinize her pantry and refrigerator looking for something Kyle would find acceptable for an impromptu dinner.

There was not much available for a meal for two since she lived alone and had been expecting to go out for the evening, though she found the ingredients for a sausage and cheese omelet, toast, and tomatoes. Not bad, she thought to herself, as she went about preparing their repast, it won't take too long and it isn't too heavy; maybe I will score some points after all. She tried to stay positive as she busied herself in the kitchen, ignoring the din of the television; Mallory preferred to listen to music while she cooked.

By the time she called him to dinner, it was set pleasantly with two glowing candles, cloth napkins, and water poured into crystal goblets. "I hope you like it, Kyle," she urged nervously, overlooking his obvious discontent with her use of his name.

It was clear as soon as he sat and scowled at his plate that he was displeased, "So, breakfast for dinner. Yay, my favorite."

Strike two, she thought.

Mallory tried to banter and flirt with Kyle over her egg concoction, although it was obvious any attempt at witty repartee was going to be lost on him, as usual. She opted to stay silent for the rest of the meal, assuming she would do less damage, or at least be less displeasing.

When Kyle was satiated, at least his stomach was, he went back to the living room and requested her presence, "Mal, get in here."

Immediately putting the dishes down, she walked into the room to join him, trying to do anything to make him happy. She remembered something she saw online about kneeling and suddenly dropped to her knees beside him on the floor, she looked up into his eyes, pleading with him to notice she was trying.

Roughly, he grabbed her by the throat, pulling her towards him, finally, the heat flashed through her body as she thought he was going to take her right there, he is going to just choke me, spank me, throw me on the floor and fuck me now. Excitement flashed in her eyes as she looked into his, though his remained flat and unmoved.

Kyle tightened the grip around her throat as he pulled her up from her kneeling position forcing her over his lap. He pulled her skirt up over her thighs and roughly ripped her panties down past her knees and off over her feet, casting them aside. "When I tell you to be ready to go out, be ready next time, slut," he lectured as his hand came down swiftly across her exposed ass cheek, "Do you understand?"

"No, not really," she replied.

"What?" he asked, somewhat shocked at her answered, spanking her ass twice more.

Mallory's eyes welled with tears, not just from the pain, but from the confusion; she truly did not understand. "I don't understand," she cried, "I was ready."

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he scolded as he spanked her several more times.

"Yes, yes, you did," she begged then, "I am so confused, why are you doing this? You just asked me... please, please stop..."

"Don't argue with me, slut," he spanked her over and over again, almost out of control by now.

By now, she was crying, confused, although growing wetter the more he spanked her, which made her feel even more chaotic inside. Finally, he stopped, more from exhaustion than from anything else; she lay across his lap sobbing.

As he sat there with his hand on her ass, he began to slowly rub back and forth across the pink, welted skin. It was hot to the touch now, and his hand felt good and soothing, her tears stopped and she slowly spread her legs enticing him to touch her more.

"Does that feel good, slut," he murmured.

She was so hurt and angry, she wanted to say no, however her body had already betrayed her; she let out an involuntary moan as his fingers slowly made their way to her pussy and he answered for himself. "Oh, I see you do like it," he stated aloud.

As she spread her legs even further, he swiftly slapped her ass one more time, his fingers still inside her, he felt her juices flow even more. Kyle was surprised to find his spanking had caused her to react in such a manner, his cock started to harden as he looked down at her reddened ass and continued to finger her pussy.

Kyle wrapped his fingers roughly in her hair and pulled her swiftly to her feet, "Let's go, slut," apparently this was his new favorite term for her. He led her to the bedroom, her pussy was dripping wet with anticipation.

Mallory's mind raced as she imagined a marathon sex session; she immediately determined she would call him "Master" as he had requested by the end of the night.

When they got to her bedroom, she immediately dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth, sucking it expertly down her throat looking up at him. She felt his cock practically hitting her tonsils as she stuck her tongue out and licked his balls, almost gagging.

Just as she started to enjoy the sensation of feeling him in her mouth, he grabbed her roughly by the throat and pushed her face down on the bed. He rammed his cock into her wet pussy and slowly started to fuck her, picking up the pace quickly. Thrusting harder and harder, he pounded against her shoving his cock into her, his hips beating against her ass.

It felt good, but, all too soon it was over; she felt him dig his hands into her shoulders as he started to cum. He pulled her to him as he held his cock deep inside her while he pushed every drop of cum deep inside her, she could feel it start to run down her legs. As he pulled out, it slowly ran hotly down her smooth thighs.

"Go get me a towel," Kyle demanded as he sat back on the bed.

Wow, Mallory thought, interesting take on cuddling.

Kyle cleaned himself, looked her up and down, "Next week, no alcohol, and be ready to go to dinner," he pointed out, "If you are really serious about this, Mal, you have to try. I can't do everything."

After he left, Mallory sat on her bed, stunned by everything that had happened; she had tried. She wanted to be pleasing, wanted to serve, knew she was submissive. She was confused by him, he wasn't being clear in his instructions to her, everything was vague and open-ended, and how was she ever going to succeed with him?



The Story of Mallory Ch. 07



Over the next few weeks, the intensity of Mallory and Kyle's relationship began to develop; each day she felt more compelled to submit to his every whim and desire. Even though she did not exactly feel like her life was going to parallel "O's" and Sir Stephen, where her hero would eventually fall in love with her, she still believed she would find her happily ever after.

Mallory discounted the mounting feeling of disaster, instead concentrating on the positive path they seemed to be travelling together. True, it appeared she had spent more time on the receiving end of his lectures and the sting of his belt, and she was somewhat unclear what she was going to get out of this supposed two-way relationship, when she was honest with herself, she was lonely. She knew she was a slave, from deep down in the pit of her stomach, and inside her battered and abused heart, she wanted to submit.

So, when Kyle came to her several weeks into her training and casually said, "Mal, either we are going to do this or we aren't," no excitement or love in his voice, the tone was his usual affect, just like he was ordering a Big Mac from McDonald's. "I'm done playing games. Let's get your stuff and you can move back into my house, you can move this weekend."

When the corners of Mallory's mouth started to turn up, in a smile, she started to speak in her rushed and excited tone, "Oh, Kyle, I'm so..."

However, Kyle cut her off before she could finish, "You aren't bringing all your junk back into my house, though," he announced dismissively, "you can bring your clothes. The paintings, the other garbage you have, it has to go."

The smile that had previously started to grace Mallory's lips slowed faded, "Yes, Master," she responded emptily, using the term he had demanded. She had finally learned to say the word he wanted, though she felt nothing when she said it, or wrote it for that matter.

By the following weekend, Mallory had tidily packed up the few belongings she was permitted to keep and had brought them to her Master's home, the home she used to share with him. It looked the same, in some ways; in others it was utterly different. The house was no longer "their house", it was his; the cars were his, the bank account was his, essentially anything with a financial tie was his; although she still had to continue working and contribute her paycheck.

As Mallory looked around the house, she drew in a deep breath, afraid to breathe out, she was nervous. It was her first night back at the house and Kyle had gone out, leaving her there to get settled in; she knew better than to think he might be out arranging a romantic surprise. She was right; he returned a few hours later, "I'm back, Mal," he called, poking his head in through the door from the garage, "come help me unload the truck. He had been to the hardware store and had purchased supplies because he had been remodeling the living room.

"So, I finally sold my last painting," Mallory revealed, as she helped him carry sheetrock into the garage, "you know, the Fabien Perez."

"Oh, you sold those things?" he looked at her quizzically, "I thought we would be hauling them to the dump. They were nothing but junk."

Mallory tried her best to hide her pain over having to sell her prized possessions, "I thought you'd be happy, they were actually worth a lot. Maybe we can take a weekend trip to San Francisco or something, since it's like found money."

"Really Mal?" he scowled at her, "Don't be stupid. I hate big cities, and we are in the middle of this remodel, that money will come in handy. Besides, you just took a cruise a few months ago; you won't need a vacation for at least a year."

As the realization of what she had done started to sink in, Mallory's heart started to race, she felt sick. They continued to unload the truck in silence, still if he was displeased or uncomfortable with the situation, he never said a word to her. She thought her first night was going to be memorable, although so far, she was bitterly disenchanted.

When she went to bed alone that night, she was near tears, she lie in bed with the remote control in her hand mindlessly flipping through the channels as she deliberated why she would have left her apartment and come back to him. She wanted to be a slave more than anything, she wanted a Master, she wanted to be dominated; yet she had never felt more alone than she did at that moment.

Suddenly, the light turned on and filled the room forcing her to squint for a moment as her eyes adjusted trying to take in the scene. Her Master was standing in the middle of the room looking angry; he had something in his hands, though she could not tell what it was.

"Come here now," he commanded gruffly.

Mallory moved apprehensively from between the sheets towards him, apparently not fast enough, because he called her again. "I said now!" Moving faster, she jumped at his voice, racing towards him.

"Turn the television off, take your clothes off and get on your knees," he snapped, as he started to list what he wanted her to do, "Take your hair and hold it up. Sit with your knees apart. Arch your back. No, not that way."

The commands were coming at her so fast and furiously Mallory could not keep everything straight, she was doing everything she could to be pleasing and do as he asked, though she had never experienced him like this before. "Please, Master, can I just..."

"No. No questions. You need to listen and obey," he cut her off, "Got that, slut?"

Mallory had no idea if she was allowed to answer or not; so she did her best with his instructions. She sat on her knees, thighs spread, with her hand in her hair holding it up as she cast her eyes down to the floor.

There was a noise behind her; she flinched as she felt a thick piece of leather being placed around her throat. Instinctively, her hand went up to feel it; she felt a thick metal ring in the front, although had no idea what it looked like. Afraid to move, she heard a buckling sound as he made a movement behind her, "You can let your hair down now. Your collar is on."

As she sat there, her hand to her throat, thinking about what it meant to wear a collar, Mallory wondered what it looked like, envisioning it must be incredibly sexy, she was just about to ask if she could go look at it in the mirror when she felt a sharp tug at her throat. She was pulled quickly to her feet and forced down onto the bed, face first, the collar was tugged so tightly at her neck it was choking her, she was gasping for breath.

Kyle rammed his cock into her ass, not caring she was not prepared, not ready; Mallory tried to cry out in pain, he twisted the collar tighter. "You're mine now, slut," he sneered into her ear, "that means I will fuck you whenever I want to, wherever I want to, and you can't say no to me. Got that?"

The collar slackened just enough for her to respond, however she was dumbfounded and could not respond. He fucked her ass harder. "I can't hear you, slut. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master," Mallory finally choked out her response, scared of what would happen to her if she did not reply according to his expectations. Her answer must have made him happy because he tightened his grip around her neck and pounded her ass furiously. She could feel he was ready to explode; he pulled his cock out and came all over her ass.

Finally, he relaxed his hold on her throat allowing her to breathe fully for the first time since he started. He rolled off of her, "Get me a towel, Mal, I need cleaned off."

Mallory could have passed out from fatigue right there, not that she was satisfied, she was emotionally drained. However, she was relieved to be given a task she had some hope of doing properly. She headed to the bathroom, closing the door for a moment for some privacy; she wanted to see herself in the collar.

As she saw herself in the mirror, other than her very red face from lack of oxygen, she could not believe how incredibly sexy she thought the collar was. It was several inches tall and made of thick black leather with a big silver ring in the front. She instinctively slid her fingers down to touch herself, she was soaking wet; the assault on her ass had made her so wet, if only he had noticed.

Sighing deeply as she took a towel off the rack, Mallory soaked a wash cloth in hot water as well, predicting the next request. She walked back into the room, using her sexiest walk; she tried to entice her Master into wanting her. Perhaps he would be interested in her sexual desires.

"So, after I clean up, we're going to go to bed. No television, it annoys me," he started down his list of demands and began going over what would be the nightly ritual, "There is a leash attached to the bed where you'll be attached. You can't leave the bed without permission. If you need to get up, you have to ask, I want to know where you are at all times. Every night before we go to bed, you are to bring the collar to me, come to my desk nude, sitting on your knees, and finally you will be collared and allowed to go to bed. Any questions?"

As Mallory listened to her Master describe their new nightly rituals, she discovered she was incredibly excited by their new life together. She became even wetter as she crawled into bed and waited to hear the click of the leash onto the collar. For Mallory, the thought of him wanting to know where she was at all times meant he loved her, he wanted to protect her, something that had been missing from their marriage before.

The leash snapped onto her collar and Mallory settled onto her pillow, the wetness between her legs growing as she was feeling her submissiveness more than ever before. She moved closer to Kyle, he was already asleep.

Mallory spent the night tossing and turning, the collar rubbing her neck, a constant reminder she was a slave; a slave to her own submissiveness.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 08



Over the next several months, Mallory did her best to predict Kyle's mood and stay one step ahead of her Master. She discovered that his sexual desire was much the same as it had been in their marriage pre-split; it waxed and waned. The collar around her neck every night did little to strengthen his cravings for her; in fact, the sight of the collar appeared to aggravate him sometimes.

As per his request, Mallory came to him every night while he sat at his desk; she sat nude, legs spread apart, enticing him to want her, leash in one hand, collar in the other; begging to be put to bed. He would glance at her over his shoulder, something in his eyes always made her quickly cast her eyes downward, nervous to look at him, to meet his gaze. She longed to flirt with him, to flutter her eyelashes and beg him to take her right there on the floor; she ached to be wanted. Sometimes he would sigh deeply; irritated at having his video game or bill-paying disturbed, other times he would ignore her for half an hour at a time.

Finally, he would turn to her, annoyed, "Well, what are you waiting for?" he would say, "Get over here." Mallory would quickly move closer, lifting her hair for him to place the collar around her throat. She would then crawl into the sheets as he would attach the leash to the collar and then to the bed.

"Good night, Master," she would say obediently, "do you think you will be coming to bed soon?"

"No, just go to sleep," his typical response never failed to hurt her no matter how many times she heard it. She always knew she had a higher sex drive than he did, but she honestly thought this new relationship was going to elicit more of a sexual response from him.

Mallory often buried her head in pillows to block out the light from the computer monitors until he came to bed, sometimes crying softly into them so she would not be caught.

When Kyle would come to bed, she would reach up to the collar, feeling the soft, smooth leather against her skin, feeling her submissive side, knowing she wanted to please him. "Master, is there anything she can do to please you tonight," she would whisper into his ear as she rubbed her body against his, hoping for a positive response.

"Not tonight, Mal," her heart would sink at the words, as she strained against the leash, almost wishing it would dissolve, "maybe later in the week."

She was becoming frustrated with her position in the relationship; she could see what Kyle was getting from being the Master. He was in charge of everything in the household; he made all of the financial decisions, there was no arguments over where they would go for the weekend, they stayed home, his choice, she did all of the cooking, cleaning, shopping, and all within his budget. Mallory did not argue with him about any of his decisions, and if she did, he could take out his aggression on her by whipping her or taking away something she enjoyed.

Mallory was confused about what she was getting out of the relationship. She was happy to wear the collar at night, and to be leashed to the bed, but she was starting to question what it meant. She enjoyed calling Kyle "Master", but she wanted it to mean something, she wanted to feel, she wanted him to feel something. She yearned to be able to communicate with him.

One night over dinner, Mallory finally screwed up enough courage to speak to him, "Master, may she please speak to you?" she asked quietly just as she was finished clearing the table. She had tried to gauge his mood, intending to select a moderately good disposition and not start an argument.

"What, Mal?" he said, flatly; she was unable to determine his temperament.

"Well, uhm..." she stammered, intending to change her mind and back out of any discussions tonight.

"What is it?" his tone became demanding, irritated, less flat. "Spit it out."

Eloquent, she thought. "It's just that, well, I uh..." she was having a difficult time figuring out exactly what it was she wanted to say. What was I going to say, she thought. That I changed my mind? I don't want to be a slave anymore, but I desperately do.

"Look, Mal," he was terribly maddened now, she could see it on his face, he leaned forward, his fists doubled up, "If you have something to say, say it. If not, don't waste my time. I'm going upstairs."

He left her alone in the kitchen to finish cleaning the dishes.

Mallory thought about what she had started to say; she determined she wanted to talk to Kyle notwithstanding his outburst and his mood tonight. She could not keep going through the motions this way; she was beginning to feel like a zombie, completely dead on the inside, and not much better on the outside.

Kyle was sitting at his desk when she went upstairs; bills were neatly organized by their due dates, he was paying some by check and had some accounts open online paying them through bill pay. She was apprehensive about interrupting, but thought, it's now or never, Mal.

Sitting on her knees beside the desk, Mallory sat quietly for a moment, hoping he would pay attention to her on his own. When he appeared not to notice her, she began, "Master, can I talk to you now, please?"

Without turning around, he responded, "Sure, Mal, carry on your bitch session from downstairs. I'm sure you have some complaint about me."

Drawing in a deep breath to keep from crying, Mallory continued, "No Master, I do not intend to complain. I simply want to communicate with you. I am starting to have some trouble with how things are going between us."

"Mm hm," he said by way of a response, as he looked more closely at one account.

"I am not saying I do not want to be your slave," she explained, "I just don't understand what I am supposed to be getting out of this relationship." Her hand instinctively went to her neck, feeling the smooth skin where the collar would be later on that night.

"Uh huh," Kyle mumbled, still not turning around.

Mallory was uncertain if she should continue, she paused, waiting to see if he noticed. He turned around when he detected the silence, glaring at her. She resumed her oration, "I like the collar, the leash, and the times we have sex..."

As her voice trailed off, she knew immediately she said something wrong. Mallory sank down onto her feet, wishing she could pull the words out of the air and shove them back into her mouth. Kyle turned sharply in his chair, "So, this is about sex, is it?" he questioned, "I should have known that was your issue, same as before."

As the reality of Kyle's misunderstanding of their relationship issues set in, Mallory heard his next words as if she was in a fog, "If you want more sex, then I have a challenge for you," his face lit up with an eerie smile, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a cross between a smile and a sneer.

"Yes, Master," Mallory sat back up on her knees, eager to listen to his challenge, willing to do anything to please him. She let go, at least momentarily, of the fact he had utterly mistook her grievance regarding her place in the relationship.

"I want you to start flirting with guys at your work, any guy; from the janitors, the shop workers, up to the President," he instructed. "You are to seduce somebody there and bring him home; I want to watch him fuck my little slut. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master," she answered, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

If he perceived anything in her tone, he did not comment, "Oh, and Mal, don't do anything to jeopardize your job, though."

Oh, you think? she thought to herself.

Kyle turned to finish paying the bills, almost as if he had forgotten that she was still sitting there, "Oh, are we done here?"

"Yes, Master," Mallory started to get up off of the floor.

"Good, then go finish cleaning the kitchen."

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity for Mallory, she started to blossom, at work. It started innocently enough when a shop floor employee asked her for help with running his payroll numbers. She had never even noticed him before, but when he came into the office that Monday morning, they began flirting and made excuses to see each other every day after.

"Hey, Mal," the tall lanky brunette called as he approached Mallory's cubicle clutching a stack of paperwork, "Can you help me with this paperwork?"

"Really, Ryan?" she eyed him, pretending to be suspicious; "This is exactly like what I showed you yesterday. Are you sure you can't figure it out?" She giggled girlishly as she pulled the extra chair up to her computer so he could sit down.

"Thanks, Mal, you're the greatest," he smiled nervously at her, scooting so close to her his knee brushed against hers under the desk.

They worked together for over an hour, giggling, talking, laughing, and actually completing the payroll assignment. "Well, I guess that's it until next week," Mallory sighed, hating to see him leave.

"Maybe I'll need help with something else," Ryan winked as we walked away.

Every day after, Ryan stopped by Mallory's desk with one inane question after another; some days it was simply to borrow her Chapstick or ask if the paychecks would be on time that week. Mallory was just as flirtatious, she would often walk by his area of the shop, inventing reasons to speak to him or others in the area just to get a glimpse of him.

After flirting with him for a few weeks, she was feeling better than she had in a long time; she was receiving attention without any negative feelings attached to them. When the collar was placed around her neck each night, it felt like it got heavier each time; she felt guilty.

One night, Kyle climbed into bed with her after their nightly ritual; he began rubbing her breasts as he began to talk to her, "So, have you been flirting with any men at work?"

Instantly, her mind flashed to Ryan; she thought of all of the flirting, how much fun she was having with him, and how easy it was to talk to him. She answered honestly, "Yes, Master."

"Hmmm," he moaned a little, clearly interested, "Tell me more."

"Well... uhm..." she was buying time trying to think what she should say.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes starting to show the signs of anger.

"Oh, Master," she lied, "nothing, I'm just a little embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed, slut," he demanded, "Just tell me."

"Okay," she bit down on her lip, trying to think of what to say, "I have been flirting with several men."

"Oh, very nice," he rubbed her thigh, then right between her legs.

Mallory continued her lie as she thought of Ryan; she continued talking, telling Kyle of how she flirted shamelessly with several men in the office and the shop, she told him how they responded, flirting back. She rationalized it was mostly not lying since it was all true of Ryan.

The more she talked about flirting with the other men, all of whom were Ryan, the wetter she became, and the more aroused Kyle was. His breathing became heavier and he rubbed her more vigorously, sliding his fingers inside her. She started to describe how she wanted to bring one of them home, Ryan, and what she would like to do to him.

"You're quite the little slut, aren't you?" he asked her.

"Yes, Master," she thought of Ryan the whole time, wanting to escape and run away with him.

Unexpectedly, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her down to his cock, ramming it down her throat, "Is this what you want? You want another man in your throat like this?" He asked as he began to fuck her throat.

Mallory went numb as she thought of Ryan, pictured sucking his cock, of slowly, gently, taking him into her throat, of looking into his eyes, lovingly stroking his thighs...

Kyle continued to roughly slide his cock in and out of her mouth, asking her questions she could not answer with her mouth full, pulling on the leash to tighten the collar. Mallory was choking and gagging her responses as best she could.

When he was ready to cum, Mallory pulled at his thighs, trying to pull him closer to her, wanting to swallow him, to please him, he pulled out and came all over her exposed breasts, leaving her feeling empty.

Abruptly, he got out of the bed leaving Mallory waiting, wondering if he would be back to continue their session, or to go to sleep. He returned a few minutes later carrying a glass of water; swallowing deeply, he put the empty glass on the bedside table, sat on the bed, looked at Mallory, and said, "Scoot over, you got the bed wet here, did you cum?"

Mallory glared at him as she scooted away from him; she slid as close to the wall as she could, covering her head with a pillow, blocking out this life.

She fell asleep and wondered if she should run away from Kyle and her ideas of being a slave.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 09



Since Ryan started paying attention to Mallory at work, she started volunteering to work extra hours, offering to help other departments, anything to stay at work longer for the chance to see him. He often worked long hours and on Saturdays and Mallory wanted to spend as much time getting to know him as she could. It was not as if she thought it would go anywhere, but she was enjoying flirting with him.

Besides, she thought, Kyle wanted her to flirt, and we are starting to have some mind blowing sex, as long as I tell him about 'all the guys I'm chatting up at work'. Mallory sat at her desk twirling her hair, sipping her morning coffee as she thought about that morning when she and Kyle had sex before she left. She had dressed in her sexiest black pencil skirt, black suede thigh high boots, black cashmere sweater, and then pulled her hair back in a tight bun.

When she was almost ready to walk out of the door, a half an hour earlier than usual, hoping to run into Ryan at the coffee pot, Kyle grabbed her as she was headed down the stairs. "Hey, slut," he spoke into her ear, "You look really sexy today. Why are you leaving so early?"

"Oh, no reason," she lied, "I promised Elka I would help her set up the new voicemail system."

"You're always helping everybody else," he said, tugging at her sweater, as he coaxed her back upstairs, "you can come take care of your Master before you go to work."

Mallory did not feel like she could deny his requests, especially since she really was not due at work for another half an hour, so she followed him back up the stairs to the bedroom. He tugged the sweater off over her head, mussing her hair, then pulled her skirt up over her thighs, noticing the lacy black thong underwear, "Very nice, slut, he said." She was stunned at the compliment; she instantly wanted to please him, as praise from him was rare.

As she reached down to unzip the boots at the top of her thigh, he stopped her, "No, leave the boots on." A sly smile crossed her lips as she dropped to her knees and began to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down over his hips and down his legs. His semi-erect cock sprang forward to her face as Mallory leaned forward and licked the tip, savoring the taste, looking up, trying to please him.

Kyle reached down and fondled her breasts through her bra; Mallory bristled a bit, feeling self-conscious about the size of her breasts, he had always hated them. She pushed the thought from her mind as she continued to focus on his cock; the taste, the feel, the size of it in her mouth, her throat, her hand. She caressed and fondled his balls as she sucked his cock in and out of her mouth expertly swirling her tongue around the tip, occasionally looking up at him to check his expression.

Mallory spread her knees apart, pushing her ass out, inviting him to bend over and touch her; she wiggled her ass, enticing him as she grew wetter from sucking him. Finally, he noticed her; he pulled his cock from her mouth, grabbed her by the hair and bent her over the bed. He unceremoniously pushed the fabric from her thong aside and slid his cock into her waiting pussy.

Mallory pushed her hips back towards his cock forcing him to enter her deeper, "You like that, slut," he asked her, "do you think about fucking one of those guys from your office like this?" Her mind instantly flashed to Ryan.

"Oh, yes, Master," she answered him honestly.

"Do you want one of them to just take you right there at your desk, shove his cock into your waiting pussy, and fuck you like a little slut?" he continued talking as he started fucking her more furiously.

"Oh, Master, yes, yes, I do," Mallory answered, close to cumming as she thought about Ryan, wanting him to fuck her at her desk, in the break room, the conference room, anywhere.

"Master, please, fuck me harder, I'm going to cum," she started to beg him.

"You're such a little slut," he said as he pounded his cock into her pussy, his fingers digging into her ass pulling her closer to him.

Mallory came in waves; her face buried deep in the comforter, Kyle's cock deep in her pussy, Ryan on her mind. She lay there as Kyle finished, pulling his wet cock out and walking to the bathroom. She pulled her skirt back down, grabbed her sweater off the floor, spritzed on more perfume, and put her hair back in a bun. "See you later," she called from the stairs.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Ryan startled Mallory from her daydream as she stared blankly at her computer monitor. She nearly jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, good morning," she blushed remembering how she had fantasized about him that morning, "No, that's okay. I'm fine."

"I wanted to ask you something," he looked somewhat nervous.

"What is it, Ryan," Mallory felt anxious now, they had become somewhat close over the last few weeks, "You can ask me anything."

"Do you want to go to lunch today? I mean..." he paused for a very long time.

"Ryan, come on, what is it," she urged.

"Mal, I know you're married," he sat down in the extra chair in her cubicle and pulled it closer, "But, word around the office is you aren't happy; and you used to be separated. I don't want to cause trouble or anything."

"Oh, yeah," Mallory responded, "that." She was suddenly snapped back to the reality was she was married and had recently embarked on this new relationship with Kyle.

Still, she was so attracted to Ryan, and she was not happy with Kyle; things were not turning out as she had expected. Maybe if she told Ryan about her relationship lifestyle, he would understand and she could bring him home. If she did, it would make Kyle happy, and she would have her fling with Ryan.

"Ryan, I really like you," she started, "We have so much fun together. It is so easy to talk to you. Do you think..." Now it was her turn to pause, she was nervous. "Do you think we can make it dinner instead? I have something to talk to you about. Maybe we can have drinks, too."

Ryan's smile reached from the corners of his mouth all the way up to his eyes; she was not sure if this was a good thing, or if, perhaps, he misunderstood. Either way, she was smiling, too; she was looking forward to going out with him. Now, she just had to call Kyle and make up an excuse. Little did she know it was going to be easier than she thought.

The phone rang three times before Kyle finally answered, "Hi, Kyle, it's me," Mallory explained trying to sound nonchalant, "I made plans to go out with my friend Lenora tonight for drinks and dinner, do you mind?"

"Nah, that's no big deal," he sounded busy, "Have fun. See you later."

As she put the phone back in the cradle, she pondered what she was really going to do that night. Was she really going to tell Ryan about her incredibly private relationship with Kyle? Or, was she going to continue to flirt shamelessly with him and see if things progressed? She was still contemplating her decision up until the time she met him at the restaurant.

"Hi, Ryan," she greeted as she walked to the corner booth in the Chinese restaurant, "great booth." She smiled as he got out of the booth to allow her to scoot in to the darkest corner of the booth; he sat back down, scooting as close to her as possible.

"Hi, Sunshine," he said back, smiling and winking as she sat down. "I'm happy you decided dinner instead, we'll have so much more time." The second she sat down, he put his hand on her thigh, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Ryan was sitting so close to her, paying attention to every word she said, looking at her; Mallory felt overwhelmed and almost didn't know where to start. "Can we get some wine?" she asked.

Just then, the waiter came over with a bottle and two glasses; he laughed, "Oh, like this?" The waiter filled their glasses and walked away.

Looking at her glass as if she would find the answers there, Mallory looked down at the amber liquid as she swirled it around. "Ryan, I have to tell you about this unique relationship I'm in right now..."

"Sure, Mal," Ryan smiled at her, willing to listen to anything, "Go ahead."

Mallory slowly began to tell him about how she had willingly entered into a Master/slave relationship with Kyle, how things were not exactly working out as she had anticipated, but how she felt trapped now. She told him how she felt she was submissive at heart, how she wanted to serve, but she kept feeling like a failure over and again. She went on to explain how she could not disrespect Kyle and blame him because that was not her place as a slave, so she felt she could do nothing but take on the failure herself.

Ryan sat there with a completely bewildered look on his face, "Mal, I don't understand, why would you allow yourself to be treated like that? You are such a strong woman. This doesn't make sense."

"It's just... well, Ryan, I really do feel like I am submissive..." she felt at a loss and didn't know what else to say to him.

"Oh, baby, no," he said as he rubbed her leg under the table, "Somebody is brainwashing you. You're better than this."

As Mallory looked into his eyes, she started to feel the effects of the bottle of wine they had finished; he was being so kind, so nurturing, and so loving. He paid the bill and walked her outside to her car, as he bent over to hug her politely; Mallory was overwhelmed with emotion and would not let him go. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her tightly, "Don't let me go, please," she begged him.

He pulled her away for a moment, looked deeply into her big brown eyes, noticed they were tearing up, "Get in the car and scoot over," he directed. She got in and moved over to the passenger seat; Ryan got into the driver's seat then turned towards her.

Mallory thought she was in for a lecture, but he reached for her instead, placing his hand on her chin, pulling her face towards his. He kissed her deeply; she moved towards him, wanting to feel all of him against her body, the gearshift separating them. The heat of his tongue in her mouth, his lips against hers; she knew she tasted like wine, but so did he, and she was not self-conscious.

He kissed her so long, so passionately; they made out like teenagers in the parking lot of the Chinese food restaurant, the windows fogged up on the car. He moved closer to her, his hand on her thigh, moving up to the top of her boot; he paused, looking up into her face, "Is this okay?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes," she answered, wanting him, needing to feel him.

Ryan slowly moved his fingers past the top of her boots, past her panties, where Kyle had been earlier; when she had been fantasizing about Ryan. She was soaked now, Ryan was actually going to touch her; by the time his fingers pushed her thong aside, she was nearly cumming. His tongue licking the inside of her lips, swirling around her mouth, his fingers slowly exploring her pussy.

Mallory moaned inside his mouth, she pushed her hips towards his fingers, begging him to fuck her with his fingers; he didn't disappoint. He slowly inserted a second finger, then a third; slowly, methodically, he moved his fingers in and out as she swayed her hips back and forth against his hand.

It had been so long since anybody had cared exclusively about her pleasure; but he wasn't trying to force his cock down her throat, or in her ass; not that she would mind, but she was enjoying this experience. She sat in the passenger's seat of the car, her mind on her own pleasure, Ryan's fingers buried in her pussy, his tongue in her mouth, until she came, over and over again.

Ryan withdrew his hand, kissed her deeper; as he sat there, looking into her eyes, she felt guilty, not so much for what she had done, but for what she knew he wanted to say. Ryan loved her. He did not say it that night, but Mallory knew he felt it. What was she doing? "Mal, please don't let him keep treating you like that," he said.

She knew he was not a Master, and she knew she was a slave; her life was becoming more complicated than ever before.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 10



As Mallory's relationship with Ryan blossomed, her development as a slave started to wither; it was not because she was not trying. Every night, she still brought the leash and collar to her Master; sitting by his desk in the nude, knees spread, hands up, eyes downcast, as he had requested. Sometimes she waited for an hour as he played video games or paid bills, or even surfed porn sites.

It seemed like the wait would get longer each night as Mallory would sit, her feet tingling as they fell asleep from sitting on them. She would become increasingly disheartened, believing she was doing something wrong, thinking she was not a good slave. Finally, one night, he turned to her after she had waited about 15 minutes, "Mal, frankly, I'm getting tired of this routine," she was startled and hurt by Kyle's words. "I just don't have the energy for the games every night."

"But, Master," she protested, "I didn't think we were playing a game. I thought this was a lifestyle."

"It is," he continued, "We are definitely not going back to the way things were before we separated. I mean, I like the way you don't talk back; and the separation of the financial stuff is great. The fact that I control all of that, you do the housework and stuff, that part is going great..."

"Hmmm..." Mallory eyed him suspiciously, still trying to maintain her respectful demeanor, "Then what is it that you think is a 'game' or you don't like about everything?"

"Mal, come on," he demanded, "You're starting to get mouthy. I just don't have the energy for these nightly rituals, and all this other junk. It seems like you are demanding sex all the time and I'm just not really into it as often as you. You know that. And the collar and leash thing, okay, it is sexy every now and then, but every night?"

Mallory drew in a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before she spoke again, "So, let me get this straight," she tried to remain calm as she questioned Kyle, "You like being in control of... let's just say, everything? You like me to do the housework, keep my mouth shut, not talk back, and we have sex, what? Like once every two weeks or so like we used to?" By this point, she was bordering on resentment, "And, what do I get out of it, Master," her voice now dripping with sarcasm, "I was enjoying the ritual. You know, when you put the collar and leash on me, at least for the first few times, I felt loved and wanted. Yeah, it started to feel really routine and like you resented it..." her voice trailed off as she saw the anger start to build in Kyle.

"Damn, Mal," he said, glaring at her, "things were going so well." He turned back to his computer and left her feeling empty and alone; familiar feelings from their previous life together.

"Oh yeah," she said under her breath as she threw the leash and collar to the floor.

Mallory climbed into bed, she buried her head beneath two pillows trying to block out the glare of the computer screens. She wished she was still back in her apartment; she was less lonely when she was alone.

After the discussion regarding the collar, Kyle never placed it around her throat again, and Mallory never saw it. She still behaved as best she could, performing her household tasks and responding to any request her Master had; but there was a palpable tension in the household.

Mallory's respite was work; she loved walking in the front door of her office building and knowing she would see Ryan. Her relationship with him was flourishing. She knew she would never be his slave and they would not have a life-long commitment, but she was having fun. Though she never dreamt she would have an affair, he was distracting her from her increasingly depressing home situation.

Most of the encounters she had with Ryan were nothing more than mild make-out sessions; sitting in the car and steaming up the windows. Occasionally, she rubbed his hard cock over his jeans, teasingly; she knew he wanted her, she wanted him as well, she just did not know how far to push things.

Still, she and Kyle rarely had sex anymore, and she was increasingly attracted to Ryan; he was funny, kind, and very attracted to her. He peppered her with compliments, she felt young and happy when she was around him. She ignored the fact she was not living in reality, she rarely thought about having to go home every day and deal with her life. Each time they parted, the goodbyes became longer and more drawn out.

"We have a three-day weekend coming up," Ryan announced to her hopefully one day, "Do you think there is any way you can get out of your house, and maybe we can go away?"

"Oh, Ryan," Mallory's eyes welled with tears as she looked at him, "I desperately want to, but I just don't know..."

"Come on, Sunshine," he begged, "Just try, make up something. It will be really great. I know this awesome beach just out of San Fran."

Mallory wanted more than anything to go away with him, just to escape for a weekend, "I'll try, Ryan; but I can't promise you anything."

The next morning, Mallory was at the coffee pot talking with Suzie; listening to her drone on about how John was coming back and they were going to work everything out. Ryan walked up and poked her in the side, "Hi, Sunshine, what's the good news?" he smiled at Mallory.

"I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Suzie laughed as she walked away.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Mallory blushed as she started to walk towards her desk still stirring her coffee.

"Oh, probably nothing," Ryan insisted, "You know how people talk. So, can you go?" He asked, he reminded Mallory of an anxious little puppy.

"Shhh..." Mallory admonished, "People can hear you, Ryan. I don't want everyone to know our business."

"So, this is business now?" he teased.

"Come on," she was serious as she spoke, "You know me. I don't want to get in trouble, or have people talk."

"I know..." he looked dejected.

"Oh, Ryan," she felt bad, Mallory touched his hand briefly once they were in her cubicle, "Yes, I can go," she said quietly. "I told him I was going out of town with my friend Lenora. He was perfectly fine with it."

"That's great," he exclaimed, "We are going to have so much fun."

The following Thursday after work, Mallory followed Ryan to his apartment; they would be spending the night there, then leaving early Friday for a leisurely drive to the coast where they would spend Friday and Saturday night, coming home Sunday. She was both excited and apprehensive on the 15 minute driver there; she could not wait to be with him, but she had never cheated before. Her head was filled with doubt about whether or not she could actually go through with this, or if she should just turn her car towards her own exit.

The answer must have been in her head all along, as she passed her exit and followed Ryan to his apartment. She pulled her car into the guest parking space; she could not get out for a few minutes as she sat there, paralyzed by her emotions. Tap, tap. Mallory looked out to see him tapping on her window, he had an adorable smile on his face; her anxiety melted away as he opened her door to let her out of the car. "Hey, were you just going to sit in here?" he asked.

"No, I'm ready to come in," she replied. "My bag is in the back, let me just grab it."

"Don't be silly, Sunshine," he pulled her into his arms, looking into her eyes, and kissing her deeply, "I'll grab it."

Mallory was not used to such kindness; she forgot about the fact that she was cheating and happily followed him inside. His apartment was small, it was sparsely furnished, typical of a bachelor, she thought to herself. She didn't care, though, she was happy to be free for a weekend; she felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Ryan dropped her bag to the ground and immediately pulled her to him, "Well, missy," he whispered, giving her another impromptu nickname, "We are finally alone. What should we do first?" He had a wicked smile on her face, a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, I don't know, cook dinner?" Mallory teasingly suggested, "Or we could go for a walk?"

"I don't think so..." he took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

Within minutes they were both completely undressed and on the bed; kissing and fondling each other as each article of clothing came off and was dropped to the floor. They fell to the bed intertwined in each other, softly kissing and exploring each other for the first time.

"Oh, Mal," Ryan said, looking into her eyes, "You are so beautiful."

Mallory's eyes filled with tears; she buried her head in his chest, kissing him softly. "Hey, what's wrong with you, baby?" he asked. She couldn't answer; how could she tell him the nicest thing anybody had said to her lately was she was a sexy slut? Or she was a good cock sucker?

The tears came harder and she began to sob as her mind shot image after image of her life like a flip book going at full speed; she was so confused. She wanted to be a slave, to be subservient; she did not see anything wrong with some of the things happening in her life, but she knew there was more to the Master/slave relationship then what she had been presented.

Ryan started to slowly pet her hair to calm her, "That's okay, baby, cry if you need to," he soothed. She kissed his chest, taking deep breaths as she did, calming down; she began to kiss up his neck, then to his ear. Mallory slid her leg between his legs; pressing up against his cock, feeling it start to harden. She licked the edge of his ear, kissed back down his neck, then back down his chest.

Mallory continued to rub his cock with her thigh as she rubbed her hand across his chest; she then dared to run her hand down his stomach, over his hips, across his thighs, and for the first time, she touched his cock. As she slowly began to stroke it, he moaned, whispering in her ear, "Oh, baby, that feels so good," she looked up into his eyes, kissed him, then worked his kisses down his body.

As she made her way down his stomach and thighs to his cock, he drew in his breath; she could tell it had been a while for him. She licked the tip of his cock carefully, tasting the pre-cum that had begun to form; she ran her tongue up and down the length of him, and licked his balls, then slowly worked her way back to the tip. Finally, she took him all the way into her mouth sucking him in as deep as she could, her lips wrapped tightly around his cock as she worked him in and out of her mouth.

His hands were wrapped gently in her hair, almost resting there; pull, she thought to herself, but he never did. Ryan was very gentle with her, almost feminine at times, a deep contrast to her husband. Mallory continued sucking and licking his cock until he came; she swallowed every drop, then moved slowly, cat like up to lay next to him.

Mallory felt content, just to be there with him, she could have fallen asleep; she assumed since he was satiated he would be finished. She was surprised when he turned on his side and moved his hand between her thighs, she was soaking wet. He kissed her softly as he caressed the folds of her pussy, slowly inserting one finger then two. She moaned into his mouth, pushing her hips towards him, begging for more.

Ryan teased her as he slowly slid his fingers in and out of her dripping pussy; just as his rhythm would pick up and she would be close to cumming, he would remove his fingers and fondle her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples. He would kiss her the entire time, not allowing her to cry out; forcing her instead to moan into his mouth.

A few times he sexily laughed at her frustration as he continued his teasing game on her; bringing her just to the brink of orgasm, then stopping and redirecting her.

Finally, he brought his fingers to her swollen pussy and almost methodically, he began to fuck her; he moved two fingers in and out faster and faster, then he added a third. He fucked her faster and faster, his thumb on her clit; kissing her harder, "Do you like that, baby," he asked.

"Oh yes, please, yes," she was so programmed to say the word 'Master' she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from calling him that name.

When she finally came, she left the sheets soaked; she felt embarrassed, "No biggie, I'll just put a towel over it and sleep there, Sunshine," he said, "I want you to be comfortable." Mallory was utterly astonished.

The whole time she had been worried about Ryan falling in love with her, now he was behaving like a gentleman. I can't fall in love with him, she thought to herself, he will never be a Master, and I know I am a slave... still; I am having fun for now.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 11



Chapter 11 -- Mallory's Weekend Away

When Mallory woke up Friday morning, her hand instinctively reached up to her neck to caress the skin where the collar had been gracing it just weeks earlier; she felt lost without the thick leather reminding her she was owned. Still, her collar apparently had not meant very much; she was reminded of that fact as she looked down at the now familiar arm draped across her breasts, "Good morning, Sunshine," Ryan whispered into her ear.

She turned over, rolling towards him cuddling as close as she could, stretching the length of her body against his; she savored feeling her skin against the warmth of his. "Good morning," she purred, "I'm so happy to be here with you." She was teary as she buried her head against his chest, suddenly realizing the temporary state of their affair.

"Hey, no tears," he put his hand under her chin, pulling her gaze up to meet his, "We're going to have a great weekend and not think about Sunday." He had clearly read her mind.

Mallory would have been happy to stay bed with him for the entire weekend; she was satisfied to be talked to like she was loved, even if he didn't say those words. In fact, she thought, the last thing she wanted was for Ryan to say "I love you" she had no idea how she would respond. It would have been so easy to respond in kind, but she knew he would not be in her life forever. Oh, Mallory, she thought to herself, just enjoy the weekend and stop pushing things.

After breakfast, they packed the car and headed out for the weekend; packing took longer than usual with an occasional impromptu make-out and fondling session to get them off track. When they finally got in the car, they were both sexually frustrated, "Why did we do that to ourselves?" Ryan asked, looking longingly at Mallory as he pulled up to a stoplight on the way out of town. "We have a long drive ahead of us, and an even longer time until we get to the hotel..." his voice trailed off as his hand rubbed the inside of her thigh.

"Do we really have to go out of town, Ryan?" she asked him hopefully. Mallory loved a good trip, but she really needed a weekend to decompress and she would have been just as happy at his apartment.

"Really, Sunshine?" he smiled at her, "You would have been just as happy to stay here in my crappy little apartment? We couldn't have gone anywhere; somebody might have seen us together."

While the reality of their affair sunk in, Mallory stared forward and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, "Oh, that's right, never mind."

"We have reservations and the hotel is paid for anyway," he reminded her, "We'll have fun." Ryan's calm reassuring voice and his ever-present smile put her at ease as he continued the journey out of town. "Besides, we're going to Stinson Beach; you told me you loved the ocean."

Mallory smiled to herself, surprised at his gesture; she knew how much money he made, and the weekend must be costing him at least half his month's salary. She looked at him and reached over, touching his hand; just as he went to take hers, she withdrew it, putting it in her lap and looking out the window.

They drove for a few hours, laughing and talking about ridiculously mundane things, but the conversation was easy. Mallory had not felt so relaxed in a long time; there were no expectations, no rules, and most of all, no Kyle. With each mile they drove from their hometown, the freer and calmer she felt.

By the time they got close to the beach, the car winding through the mountain pass, Mallory had almost completely forgotten about her other life; she was lost in her new reality. "Ryan," she asked, "For the rest of the weekend, can we please not talk about my life at all? Let's pretend like we are going to be together forever. I want to have fun, enjoy myself..." she knew her request sounded juvenile, but she was desperate for a break.

"Sure, babe," he answered sweetly, "Whatever you want."

Mallory smiled at him as he pulled into an open air Mexican restaurant overlooking the ocean; he is so simple, she thought, willing to do anything to make me happy. They held hands as they walked into the restaurant and selected a table in the center of the patio so they could people-watch as they sipped margaritas and ate chips and salsa waiting for their entrees.

After lunch, they went for a leisurely stroll on the beach, playing in the surf; they delighted in the waves lapping up at their feet. The lovers strolled aimlessly up and down the sand watching the time, waiting until they could check into their room.

They drew each other's names in the sand with hearts around them, and then watched as the ocean washed them away; they built a tiny sand castle with a moat and let the water destroy it like a hurricane demolishing a city; and they buried their feet in the sand, watching as each grain fell between their toes.

Finally, they left the beach and headed to their room, anxious for some more time alone; although Mallory was starting to get sick, she had been coughing all afternoon. Once they got to the room, her cough became much worse and would not let up; Ryan left to buy her some cough medicine.

When he returned, she was in the shower with the water turned all the way up; she had not been able to catch her breath and was trying to use the steam to loosen up her chest. Ryan poured her some cough medicine; he sat with her in the bathroom as she stood in the shower until it started to run cold. When she stepped out, he wrapped her in towels and helped her to the bed.

Mallory started to cry when she could not catch her breath; the more hysterical she became, the worse her breathing was, and the more she started to cough. Ryan sat with her, he rubbed her back, talked into her ear, and did the best he could to sooth her. She finally lie on the bed and fell asleep; she was exhausted from all of the crying and coughing, to make matters worse, she was developing a fever.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she woke up; Mallory was very aware of Ryan's presence and just wanted to be near him, to be with him. He was there, it wasn't like he was going anywhere, but it was their first weekend together, and she had no idea when they would get to spend another weekend together.

Mallory slowly started to rub her thigh between his legs, trying to rouse him; Ryan was dead asleep. She moved closer to him, put her hand between his legs and slowly began to rub him; she felt him stir. He moaned softly; she leaned in closely to his chest, she started to kiss her way down his chest, her hand still between his legs. He was clearly starting to awaken...

"Oh, Mal," he said quietly, his hand on her chin pulling her back up towards him, "You're sick, baby, you don't have to do that," he said as he pulled her all the way back up to the pillows.

Mallory's eyes instantly filled with tears, "I know," she cried, "But, I just wanted to be close to you," her tears instantly started a coughing fit. She couldn't control it; soon his hand was on her back, pulling her to an upright position so she could catch her breath and finish coughing. When she finally calmed down, he got her some more cough syrup, then lay back down beside her.

"Lay down, baby," he whispered to her, "Just relax," his hand slowly moved between her thighs. She kept her legs tightly squeezed together. "Oh, come on, don't be that way," he said, looking into her eyes, "you know you want me."

Ryan's hands pulled and rubbed at her thighs until Mallory slowly opened them, pretending to be exasperated. She slowly started to spread her legs, enjoying the feel of his hands as they caressed her skin. She sunk down into the pillows, closing her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply; Mallory wasn't used to being cared for in such a gentle way.

Suddenly, her eyes flashed open; Ryan began to kiss his way down her breasts, slowly pausing as he took one of her nipples in his mouth, the flesh rolling between his lips. He looked up at her, laughing at the nervousness in her eyes; as he made his way down her stomach, her breathing increased. Mallory drew in a deep breath, trying not to cough again; she was almost petrified of what she knew was coming...

Slowly, her new lover kissed his way down Mallory's hips, over her creamy thighs; he pushed her legs apart as she tried to squeeze them together. She reached down for his shoulders, pulling at him, "Ryan, please, I want to feel you," he smiled at her, and then buried his face between her legs.

At first, she felt tense and nervous, Kyle would never have... oh, she had to clear her mind and forget about him now. Mallory lay back down on the pillow, twirled her fingers in Ryan's hair, and basked in the luxuriousness of his tongue working in and out of her pussy. She moaned as she slowly started to move her hips closer to his face, begging him for more, wanting his tongue to explore her deeper. He licked her in slow, even strokes, occasionally nibbling on her clit, as he felt her grow wetter, he slid his fingers deep inside moving them slowly back and forth.

Instead of the frenzied pace of the night before when he made her cum, this was a slow drawn out love-making session. He wanted to make her feel good, to let her know it was about her, and nothing else. He fingers, his tongue, the long, slow strokes, all made her forget about the fever and the coughing. She could not recall a time when she had somebody take so much time with her before, or when she was not in a hurry to cum.

When she did cum, she felt anxious and guilty; she immediately turned to him, "I'm so sorry that I'm sick and it's ruining our weekend," she started to sob, overwhelmed with emotions.

"Oh, baby," he said, pulling her into his arms, "Don't cry. That was supposed to make you feel good. Oh my god, you're burning up. Do we need to get you home?"

"No, I'll be okay," she said, her face buried in the crook of his arm, "Please don't make me go home."

Mallory fell back asleep for a few hours, but woke up unable to breath; Ryan turned the shower back on running it as hot as he could to get the steam going again. "Baby, are you sure you are going to be okay?" He looked at the empty bottle of cough medicine. As he picked it up and scowled, Mallory was certain he was irritated at the sticky red ring it had left on the nightstand; instead, he said, "Sunshine, you already took this whole thing?"

"I'm sorry," she answered, "I couldn't stop coughing."

"That's okay," he said as he helped her into the shower, "We'll get you some more today."

They made the best out of the rest of their weekend together, but Mallory's health was clearly getting worse; by Saturday night her fever had spiked to 102 and she had drunk three bottles of cough syrup. Sunday was not much better, they both knew their time together was coming to a close, and to make matters worse they had to make the drive home with Mallory sick.

By the time they made it back to town she was so sick they decided she needed to go to the hospital. Not wanting their weekend to end, they had pushed it to the limit and it was 11 pm by the time they arrived at the emergency room. "I think I better call Kyle," Mallory said as they sat in the waiting room, "He was expecting me home by now, I'm sure he will be worried."

When she finally found a pay phone, she pumped in two quarters, dialed her home phone number and let the phone ring. As she stood there letting the phone ring time and again, she looked at Ryan flipping through a magazine; Mallory was torn, she didn't want to go home, but she could never have a future with Ryan. She walked back over to him and sat down.

"So, are you in trouble, babe?" he asked, pure concern on his face.

"He didn't answer," she replied, "I am going to have to keep trying."

"Okay, whatever you need to do," he was so understanding.

Mallory tried several more times while they waited for her to get called to be examined; even though she let it ring at least five or six times, there was never an answer. Finally, she was called back; I'm sure this will be a waste of money, she thought, and I'll get in trouble for coming.

"Well, you have pneumonia," the doctor said as he listened to her lungs, then showing her the x-rays of her lungs said, "You'll need to stay here for a while and have some breathing treatments to bring your oxygen levels up. You will also need to have three out-patient breathing treatments a week for the next month, then another x-ray, and then monthly x-rays until we ensure your lungs are clear."

"Oh, baby," Ryan said when the doctor left the room, "I feel so bad keeping you out of town for so long. I knew you were sick. This is all my fault."

"It's not your fault, Ryan," she soothed, "It happens. Thanks for being here with me. I'm just nervous I'm not home yet. Now I have to go to the pharmacy, too."

"Don't worry, baby, I'll take you," he sat with her as she finished her treatments.

Mallory tried to call Kyle one more time from the hospital before they left for the pharmacy, still no answer. They went to the pharmacy to fill the prescriptions; she would need to start taking the antibiotics right away. Once there, she tried to phone Kyle several more times; she was certain he was worried about her by now, but still no answer.

When they had her prescriptions, they headed back to Ryan's to say goodbye and so she could pick up her car. "Oh, Ryan," Mallory started to cry, "I'm so sorry that I got sick and ruined our weekend together." She reached her arms up to hug him.

"Sunshine," he smiled as he looked down at her, "You could never ruin any weekend. I am so sorry that you are sick. I should have brought you home. I wish I could keep you here and take care of you."

As she looked at him, she felt a longing to say those three words; he was being so loving to her, so caring. She didn't know how to say goodbye, she didn't want to go home. She was lonely and afraid.

"I have to go, Ryan," she finally said, breaking free from his hold.

"Bye, baby," his voice sounded shaky, "Is there any way you can let me know how you are?"

"Probably not," she answered reluctantly, "Not if I don't go to work tomorrow. I'll try, though."

"Bye," he said as she got in her car.

Mallory waved as she drove off, wondering what was waiting for her at home. She honestly did not want to go back; part of her wanted to keep driving and just run away.

Kyle was asleep as she crept into the house; it was 3:00 a.m. by then. Mallory decided to sleep on the couch because she knew her coughing would irritate him, "Kyle," she shook his shoulder trying to stir him, "I'm home, I have to tell you something."

"Mal, what the hell do you want?" he was clearly irritated; "I'm sleeping."

"I've been at the hospital," she thought maybe he would wake up at her words, nothing.

"What's your point?" he didn't even open his eyes or look at her.

"I have pneumonia," she explained.

"So?" obviously she was not going to get any sympathy from him.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch because I can't stop coughing and I know it will bug you," she thought he might be grateful, "And I'm not going to work tomorrow."

"Nice," he responded, "Another day off."

Mallory took her pillow and blanket and cried herself to sleep on the couch.

If only, she thought, if only.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 12



Chapter 12 – Ryan Leaves

By the time Mallory recovered from her pneumonia and returned to work, she realized she had made a mistake by going back to Kyle. She was grateful for all she had learned about the lifestyle, the Master/slave relationship was something she had needed, had craved; she was truly a slave at heart, but until he had introduced her to it, she had not been able to put a name to her desires.

Still, for all of her longings, Mallory did not know how to end things with him; she felt trapped by her wedding vows. Every time she was with Ryan, she felt guilty for cheating on Kyle; happy, but guilt-ridden. Sometimes she wished Ryan would come into her cubicle with two plane tickets to anywhere but there, claim her as his, and take her away; other times, reality would sink in and she knew if he did, she would not go anyway. He was not strong enough, he was not powerful, he was not a Master, but she was a slave.

However, Mallory continued to see Ryan; they would steal away for an evening out, a long leisurely breakfast, and even weekend getaways at his apartment where they would have to stay indoors the entire time so nobody would catch them together. Sneaking around was unusual for her, she felt childish and ashamed; though, being with him was the most fun she had in a long time, actually ever. Ryan treated her like she mattered to him; he never made her feel self-conscious about her body, he held her when she cried, and he always had a ready smile for her when she saw him.

If her co-workers had started to notice anything unusual was occurring between them, Mallory would have never guessed; maybe she was too wrapped up in being happy. "So, enjoying a little something on the side these days?" Suzie asked Mallory as she opened the door to the break room one morning. Suzie had been talking to Melanie and Todd; the three of them throwing knowing glances at each other.

"What are you talking about?" Mallory was astonished at her friend's accusations, especially in front of so many people.

"Oh, come on, Mal," chimed in Todd, "It's not as if we don't all see the two of you going to lunch together, or sitting in the break room talking closely. Besides, it's written all over your face now."

"Really, Mallory," Suzie's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "I feel bad for Kyle; you know my relationship almost broke up because of John cheating. I can't believe you."

"Yeah, Mal," Todd just looked her up and down now, "Nobody has any respect for what you're doing."

"You guys, wait," Mallory called after them as they started out the door, "Melanie, come on. Let me explain something..." But, they had all left by then, and Mallory was left staring after them. She had not noticed Freddie standing by the coffee pot watching the scene unfold.

"Don't worry, Mallory," he started to sooth her, "It's going to be okay."

"Oh, thank you," she replied, feeling relieved.

"Yeah, I know the truth," his mouth turned into an ugly grin, confusing Mallory, "Ryan told me all about you guys. Every time you go out, what you do..."

"What?" Mallory's eyes filled with tears, she was instantly sick to her stomach.

"Don't worry, though," he responded as if to make her feel better, "I'm pretty sure he hasn't told anybody else; and I only told a few guys."

"Oh my god..." Mallory ran out of the room, Freddie laughing behind her.

"What's the big deal?" he called after her, laughter in his voice.

Mallory sat at her desk trying to concentrate, the sting of betrayal in her heart; the irony of her own betrayal not yet reaching her mind. She wanted to leave work early, in fact, she wanted to run away.

Ring. Ring. She looked down, she saw Ryan's extension pop up on her Caller ID; they had plans to go out after work, but the thought made her nauseous.

"Hello," she answered flatly.

"Hey, Sunshine," Ryan was clueless, as usual, Mallory thought somewhat hatefully.

"Hi, Ryan," Mallory was impatient with him, "I'm pretty busy, I think I may have to work overtime. Jerry is really pushing me to get some accounts balanced before I leave." She was lying, but she really did not want to go out with him tonight; she needed to buy some time before she could face him.

"No problem, Baby," he was so easy-going; she did love some of his traits, "Some other time. See you tomorrow."

Click.

Mallory stared at the receiver as she hung the phone back in the cradle; now she was stuck going home to Kyle, the last place she wanted to be. She worked the accounts as slowly as she could trying to drag her afternoon out, but there was nothing she could do; when it was not even 4:30, she was finished.

Kyle's apathetic attitude toward her when she unexpectedly arrived home hours early since her plans with Ryan fell through only solidified her need to end her relationship with him, for good this time. Mallory was miserable; she wanted to be a slave to a true Master, she knew it was not going to be Kyle.

She thought she had been falling for Ryan; even loving somebody who was not exactly what you needed had to be better than what she had with Kyle. However, when she found out he had been telling people about their secret love affair, she felt betrayed and disappointed. He had to know she would be devastated and embarrassed; she was married and having people know she was cheating made her look like the cheap and sleazy liar she felt like. He did nothing to protect her, even though she always thought he had been; she was exhausted and alone.

Over the next few weeks, Mallory took on any new work offered to her and worked all of the overtime she could; anything to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation with Ryan. She did not know how to tell him she did not want to see him anymore. If anybody had ever been stuck between a rock and a hard place before, Mallory thought, then it's me.

Mallory hated to hurt anybody, but she did not want to be with either of these men; she secretly wish Kyle would find out about Ryan and would break up with her, and she wished Ryan would find another girlfriend.

Then, one day, at least half of her problem was solved, "Mal, Baby," Ryan approached her one day in the break room, "I have to talk to you, it's serious." He looked troubled, so Mallory didn't try to avoid him.

"Sure, do you want to go outside," she said, truly worried about him, thinking about how much she had once cared about him.

"Yeah," he followed her as she led him to the picnic tables scattered around the patio. They walked past the few smokers around the corner so they could get some privacy. At this point, Mallory didn't care about what people would say; it was too late for her reputation to be preserved.

"Mal," he started, his eyes brimming with tears, "I have to quit." He looked up, off into the mountains, unable to face her.

"What?" she asked, afraid of the reasons, "If this is because of us, then please..."

"What?" he seemed confused for a minute, "No, Sunshine, you don't understand. My mom is dying. She needs me, I have to go. She lives in Utah, I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving next week. If you want to come with..." His words trailed off, knowing she would say no.

"Oh, Ryan," Mallory wanted to hug him, she did care about him, "I'm so sorry." She had wanted an ending, but not this way.

"Can I see you," he looked at her, pleading, "At least one more time before I go?"

"Yes," she looked at him, her eyes tearing now, too, "I'm going to miss you, you know." They stood there, looking at each other; neither one of them sure of what to say.

A few days later, Mallory went to Ryan's apartment; boxes were stacked everywhere, physical evidence of his permanent departure. Her heart sunk at the sight; she felt like she was losing her best friend, the only person she had been able to be herself with for so long.

They stood there, in the middle of the boxes, holding each other; at first they simply held each other tightly, neither of them speaking, she cried softly into his chest, as he let a few tears fall into her long dark hair. Standing there swaying in the living room, she started to wonder if she was doing the right thing; maybe she should leave with him. Ryan had been so nice to her, he was so much nicer than Kyle; she was positive he loved her. Maybe she could give up her desire to be a slave.

Ryan placed his fingers on her chin pulling her face up to meet his, his soft lips met hers, kissing away her cries. His tongue parted her lips, finding her tongue; he slowly and gently began to caress her mouth with his tongue, exploring her. His hands started to move across her shoulders, over her back, and down her hips. Mallory became lost in the sensuousness of their lovemaking, and soon they began to shed their clothes, tossing their garments to the floor.

Mallory took Ryan's hand and led him to the bedroom; she lay down on the bed and beckoned him to join her between the sheets. He lay beside her, softly moving the hair out of her eyes, gently kissing her face. They spent their time slowly exploring each other, kissing every inch of each other, spending time only in the moment. She would leave a trail of kisses down his chest, ending on his stomach, and then he would do the same to her.

Ryan would nibble and kiss her ear, making a trail down her neck, stopping to suck and kiss her breasts, and then Mallory would do the same. They made love slowly, like they were lovers discovering each other for the first time, sadly, for the last time. There was no hurried rush to orgasm; when he finally entered her, they looked deeply into each other's eyes and connected with each other on a level they hadn't before. When he came, he collapsed on top of her, "Oh, Baby, I'm so sorry; you didn't cum, did you?"

Mallory pulled him close to her so he would not move off of her, "No, but please don't move. I don't want you to leave yet."

They lay on the bed together for what felt like hours, until finally Mallory spoke again, "I'm sorry, Ryan, but it's getting late, and I have to go home."

"I know, Baby," he whispered, slowly rolling off of her, kissing her forehead.

They dressed silently then stood in the middle of the living room together looking around; "It looks so different," Mallory spoke first, "We really had a lot of fun here, all of those weekends, locked away."

"Mal, don't..." Ryan's voice was shaky.

"Ryan, if things were different..." Mallory hugged him tightly.

"Bye, Mal," he needed her to go, "You know, I really did love you."

"I loved you, too, Ryan," she looked up at him, kissing him for the last time.

Mallory walked out to her car alone, it was too painful to see him anymore; she could not even look back at his door. She needed it to be over, she wanted it to be over; still, she was going to be lonely without him, and he had been there when she was lonely, when she needed him.

***

The weeks after Ryan left were lonely; Mallory tried again with Kyle, but the more she tried with him, the more he pushed her away. It seemed as if she could not do anything right. She was becoming increasingly lonelier; she could not understand why she did not just walk away.

"Kyle," she started one night, "Can we talk?"

"What is it you want now?" he retorted rudely.

"Well," Mallory sat on her knees by his desk, trying to please him, "I want to talk about our Master/slave relationship. I want this to work. I honestly want to please you."

"Oh, right," he stared at his computer, not even looking at her.

"Kyle," she begged, "Please at least look at me. I can't fix this on my own."

"Look, Mal," he finally turned around and glared at her, "Do whatever you want. This isn't therapy. I'm not talking about it. If you can do something to be pleasing to me, go ahead. I don't need any help."

***

"Mallory," she heard a voice as she turned around from her computer, it was Randy, the Plant Manager, "This is Michael, our new Operations Manager. I need you to go over the entire payroll stuff, oh and human resources stuff since Hillary is out."

Mallory stood up from her desk, putting her hand out, immediately noticing his incredible dark eyes, square jaw, and wide shoulders, "So nice to meet you, Michael." Wow, incredible handshake she thought to herself.

"Great to meet you, too," he replied, his deep voice instantly making her feel dizzy, "You can call me Mike if you want, everybody else does."

"Well, I don't' want to be like everybody else," she flirted, "I prefer Michael."

"You two will be spending quite a bit of time together for the first few days Mike is here," Randy cut into their banter, Mallory had forgotten he was even there, "Mallory, can I leave him with you then?"

"Oh, certainly," she watched as Randy left her cubicle, "Shall we get started then, Michael?"



The Story of Mallory Ch. 13



Chapter 13 – Meet Michael

Mallory and Michael had an instantaneous chemistry; from the moment he sat down in her cubicle to work on the payroll and human resources details for his employees, she could not keep her eyes off of him. He was everything Kyle and Ryan had not been; he was tall, dark, and handsome, not in the clichéd way of some trashy romance novel, but in a way that made Mallory afraid to be around him.

As much as she wanted to be near him, she feared him just the same; Mallory was afraid of being around a man who so perfectly fit everything she had been looking for her entire life. She would make up excuses to be around him, yet, would do everything she could to evade his attention.

There was no way to avoid noticing the effect Michael had on people in the office; he was so charming, so charismatic, and had the smoothest voice Mallory had ever heard. She would often turn her hand-held radio up just to hear his voice, hoping he would call her to ask for assistance regarding payroll or another question. More often than not, she was disappointed when he needed help from customer service or shipping.

Still, Mallory was able to spend a great deal of time with Michael; they were both on the plant's Executive Safety Committee, or ESC, together. If she arrived to the meeting before him, she would look down and doodle in her notebook escaping eye contact with anybody, wishing he would sit next to her; if he was there first, she would look around the room and try to select the seat next to his.

Michael would do the same with her; the two of them playing a silly game of cat-and-mouse as if they did not recognize the other was flirting. However, Mallory was cautious; she had just been burned by her experiences with Ryan. She was reluctant to rush into an affair with another co-worker and be seen as the office slut; besides, she knew there was something different about Michael.

Whenever Michael entered a room, there was an instant respect amongst the people in the room; he commanded the room, regardless of the level of management or executives there. He may not have been the top administrator in the room at the time, but if he walked in, all eyes would turn to him, and when he spoke, everyone listened.

When he talked to subordinates, he treated them with a dignity Mallory had never seen before; he never belittled or demeaned them, they looked up to him. She once overheard an employee talking about him after he had received a poor performance evaluation, and instead of bad-mouthing Michael, the man was actually disappointed in himself for letting his boss down.

Women behaved in an utterly ridiculous way around him; at least in Mallory's opinion. She could not stand the way the few women who worked in the office would bend over backwards to do things for him; including the human resources manager, she was supposed to be his superior on the chain of command. Mallory felt jealous at the way all of the females around her basically seemed to pant after him every time he walked by.

If there was ever a man who could be described as the one who all the men wanted to be, and all the women wanted to be with, it was Michael; but for some reason, Mallory did her best to keep him at a distance.

Michael would lean into her cubicle, she could sense him before he was there, drawing in a deep breath to prevent herself from passing out, "Hey, Mal," his deep voice would call out, "Can I get you to help me with some payroll stuff?"

Mallory would try to steel herself as she turned around in her chair, her eyes shifting to the side so she would not meet his perfectly dark brown ones, "Uhm, I guess so, Michael," she responded almost too curtly.

He moved into her cubicle, his body so close she could feel his warmth, his breath almost on her ear, "Did I do something to offend you?"

"No," she snapped, "I'm just not in a very good mood today; and, I don't want you to call me Mal... it just seems so informal."

"Hmmm..." his eyes drew her in, forcing her to look at him, "Okay, Mallory, when can we go over payroll?"

Looking at her watch, trying to buy some time so she could calm herself down, she replied, "Does 1:30 work for you? After my lunchtime run?"

"Works for me," he started to walk out of her cubicle, "I'll see you at my desk," his last statement was a command, not a question.

Mallory met Michael at his desk when she returned from her run; she was a little perturbed at having been ordered to his desk, she usually helped teach managers payroll from her cozy cubicle, not on the shop floor where his desk was located. However, she let her guard down once she sat next to him and his unique blend of power and calm took over the afternoon.

Soon, Mallory found herself actually enjoying the time with Michael; he had an easy way about him that made her feel safe and happy. The afternoon seemed to fly by and when it was time to go home, she soon felt the familiar pangs of despair at her life with Kyle. She looked at Michael, he is so sexy, she thought, I have to go, I married Kyle and promised I would try again, what am I even thinking...

In the following weeks, Mallory found herself more attracted to Michael; she watched him with her co-workers, with his employees, with his superiors, and felt how he was with her. He was the most powerful, charming, intelligent, and sexy man she had ever met; she barely knew him, but she realized she wanted him.

The more Mallory realized Michael's power over her, the more she started to fall apart; her life at home with Kyle was worse than when they had separated the first time. She continually tried to get him to talk things through and to communicate, but the closest they ever came to resolution was him telling her she would never be good enough for anybody else, so she should just as well stay with him.

Mallory felt doomed.

Occasionally, she would get a group of singles (and fun marrieds) from work and invite them out for cocktails on a Friday night; one night, she asked Michael if he wanted to go. "Michael," she asked him one day as she passed him in the hallway by her cubicle, "A bunch of us are headed out to Sapphire after work for cocktails, want to come?"

"Sure," he replied, his sexy smile almost melting Mallory right there, "What time?"

"Oh, around 8," she ducked into her cubicle as fast as she could to get away from him and catch her breath. Great, she thought, I cannot believe I invited him. When I drink, I have absolutely no filter on my mouth. Mallory was panic stricken at the thought of what she might do or say that night with her new crush and she was excited and worried about the prospects.

Suzie and Mallory pulled into the parking garage at 8:15, Vanilla Ice belting out "Ice, Ice Baby" on Suzie's stereo. "Oh, Mal," Suzie sounded sheepish, "I have something to tell you..." her voice trailed off as she turned down the volume and turned her head toward Mallory.

"Whaaaaat?" Mallory replied nervously.

"You know the new guy, Michael?"

"Uhm, yeah," duh, thought Mallory, I only love him.

"Well, uh..."

"For god's sake, Suzie," Mallory was annoyed, "Spit it out."

"He invited Hillary," Suzie finally admitted.

"What? Are you kidding me?" Mallory was incredulous, "She is my arch enemy."

Hillary and Mallory had a love-hate relationship ever since Mallory had been denied the promotion to human resources manager but still had to perform all of the backup duties when Hillary took vacation. Mallory was detail-oriented and cared about the employees and Hillary's lackadaisical attitude and cavalier manner with completing paperwork incensed Mallory. However, Mallory had a soft spot for Hillary because it was hard not to like the energetic and spunky woman.

Mallory walked into Sapphire and headed straight to the table where a big group from work was already seated; Hillary was already busily chatting up her co-workers, including Michael. "Hey, Mal," Hillary called to her in her cheerleader voice, "Thanks for organizing this. We're all having so much fun, and I'm finally getting a chance to know Mike." Mallory bristled at the way she called him by the familiar moniker, but she smiled to herself as she noticed Hillary's hand on his thigh and the grimace on Michael's face; oh well, she thought to herself, he deserves it for inviting her.

"Yeah," Mallory answered, glaring straight at Michael, "No problem, Hillary, glad you could come. I'm surprised your husband let you out, and on such short notice."

"Oh, he had something with one of his partners tonight," she responded, "So he really didn't mind."

"I bet," Suzie whispered to Mallory and the two women giggled like school girls together; it had long been rumored Hillary's husband had been cheating on her.

Mallory finally settled onto a stool directly across from Michael and Hillary, close enough to watch him interact, but too far for her to be part of his conversation. She felt somewhat safe from herself, and a little vindicated as she could see how painful it was for him to have to sit next to Hillary. However, she could not help but notice every time she looked over at him, he was staring at her; she started to feel nervous.

After a few drinks, Mallory was feeling self-confident and cocky, she walked over to Michael and whispered in his ear, "I will never forgive you for this, you ruined my evening, you invited my arch enemy out. This was supposed to be my thing, and she has taken over. Thanks a lot." She spun on her heels and turned to walk away.

Mallory was stunned when Michael grabbed her by the wrist, "Wait a minute, I didn't know everybody wasn't invited, I thought this was just a work thing," he said to her calmly but firmly, "Your impetuous brattiness may be cute to some people, but it isn't to me." Still holding her wrist, he looked her squarely in the eyes, waiting for her response, ignoring the fact there were others at the table.

"What?" Mallory could not believe he was talking to her this way.

"You heard me," he said in his deep, thick voice, "You're beautiful, and intelligent, so you think you can get away with acting like a brat. You flirt with me, then you withdraw; the cat and mouse games are fine, and can be fun, but do not ever talk to me like that again. Understood?"

"Yes," Mallory looked down at her shoes, she felt ashamed for the way she had been behaving; but, she felt something else, too, there was something about this man, he was so overwhelming, so powerful, so dominant, so controlling...

"She has been perfectly fine," he continued, still holding her wrist, "You two actually seem to have fun out of the office, and she seems to like you a lot. Why would you want to exclude her? That is bitchy behavior, and it's really unbecoming. You aren't a bitch, are you?" The question felt more rhetorical than anything.

"No," Mallory felt a desperate urge to tag on the word "Master" or at least "Sir", but bit her tongue instead.

"Okay then," Michael finally let go of her wrist, "Go sit down and have fun and quit acting like a child."

Mallory walked back to her chair, stunned, embarrassed, and exhilarated from her experience with Michael. She realized she had finally met a Master.



The Story of Mallory Ch. 14



Chapter 14 -- Mallory and Kyle Start to Crumble

After their evening out at Sapphire, Mallory could not stop fantasizing about Michael; she daydreamed about him during work, and she fell asleep imagining he was in bed next to her. Kyle rarely paid attention to her anymore, and she was tired of trying to be anything to him, slave, wife, or even friend.

However, as much as she knew her relationship with him was over, there was something keeping her with Kyle; Mallory didn't feel good enough for anybody, he had always made certain of that. They hadn't had sex in months, and she longed to be touched, to be loved; she spent so much time thinking of Michael, and even though Kyle would have been a poor substitute, he was familiar.

Mallory tried time and again to get him interested in her, but he seemed to have more excuses than any woman she had ever heard of; finally, she quit trying. Then, one night while she was sleeping, she awoke to hear him at the foot of the bed, all three of his monitors on.

Just as Mallory sat up in bed, he quickly shut down the power to the computers, turned his chair and made a motion to get out of his chair. It was too late, though, she had seen what he had been doing; he was masturbating to porn on the internet. She burst into tears and confronted him, "I don't understand what is going on," she asked him, "I'm right here, I have been begging you..."

"Christ, Mal," he was angry as he glared at her, "What the fuck is the big deal?"

"It isn't the porn, you know that," she was hurt, but he clearly didn't understand, "It' the lack of intimacy between us. Why would you resort to that when I am right here and have been willing?"

"Because," he replied, "It is a lot easier and doesn't have to be a big deal. I can just take care of myself and not have to worry about you."

She sat there on the bed; so there it was, he didn't want to worry about how she felt, about anything. He would rather jack himself off, than to have her, to feel her, to be connected to her. Wow, she thought to herself, this marriage really is over; what the hell am I doing here?

***

Michael's presence at work was a much-needed distraction for Mallory; but not in the way Ryan had been, Michael was calming, powerful, and stable. When Mallory was around him, she felt safe in a way she never had before. He could be an intimidating presence, but she was comfortable enough with herself that she was able to ask him out for coffee one day.

While she had no hopes of developing anything more than a friendship with Michael, Mallory smiled giddily to herself as she drove to the coffee shop, thinking about his sexy smile, his beautiful eyes, and his deep voice. They sat down in a corner of Starbuck's and began a conversation that flowed smoothly and quickly; the hours passing far too swiftly.

Mallory was nervous, but acted as charming and flirty as possible as they talked about work, their love lives, and as she confessed her recent affair with Ryan. She desperately tried to act sophisticated and worldly as she described her attitude about having a husband and a lover and how she was just living life and trying to figure everything out.

Michael sat across the table from the chattering girl; he was quiet, listening to her talk, learning her. The more she rambled on about how she had it all together, the less he bought her story, the less he spoke, and the more nervous and rambling she became.

Finally, when she had to leave, he walked her to her car; she didn't want to go, she longed to stay with him, the last thing she wanted to do was to go home to Kyle. However, she could not tell Michael, not after one coffee date; she flippantly said, "Thanks for the coffee, bye," and left him standing in the parking lot.

As she drove away, she saw Michael standing in the lot watching after her; she started to tear up, knowing he knew she was not all she said she was. She pulled over a few blocks away and sat in the car and cried; she could not face going home, not just yet.

***

The relationship between the pair began to grow over the next several months; however, unlike Mallory's liaison with Ryan, she was getting to know Michael in a deeper way. Unfortunately, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized what a failure her marriage to Kyle was; she just did not have the courage to leave. Besides, she thought to herself, Michael seemed far too perfect to be real; he was like a knight in shining armor, a fairy tale.

Taking things slow and getting to know a man in a mature and profound way was not Mallory's typical milieu, but Michael was so different; she was enjoying this side of herself, he made her feel good. Still, the second she walked in the front door of her condo, she was immediately slapped in the face with reality.

"What do you want me to make for dinner tonight?" she asked Kyle mindlessly looking through the refrigerator one Friday evening.

"I want to get started working on the living room right away," he replied as he looked around the room, "So you can go get us Carl's, Jr."

Mallory audibly groaned, "Really, Carl's, Jr? You know I don't like anything there..."

"Then you can make yourself a sandwich when you get home," he retorted, "I don't care. I feel like a Bacon Western Cheeseburger."

"Seriously?" she was incredulous, "You don't care?"

"Mal," he scowled at her, "You aren't acting like a very obedient slave, don't argue."

Kyle took a $20 bill from his wallet and handed it to her; "Get me my usual and whatever you want for yourself," she raised an eyebrow at him, "Enough of your attitude or you will be punished." She looked away, "Then when you get back, we'll eat and take the furniture to the garage and start sanding the walls. I want to be ready to paint by the end of the weekend."

"Can I drive your car," she looked at him pleadingly, "I'll be careful."

"I guess so," he answered her, "But just this once."

Mallory was excited to drive his car; it was not that it was special, but it was something he kept from her. The fact that he was allowing her to drive it meant he trusted her; maybe this was a positive step in their relationship.

Pulling up to the drive-through at the restaurant, she spoke into the microphone ordering his meal; she thought about something for herself and opted to eat a sandwich at home. When she pulled up to the window to pay, the cashier handed her a huge soda; Mallory had no idea a large was going to be so big, she scrambled trying to figure out how to stabilize the drink.

As she pulled away, she placed the cola in the drink holder situated in the dash; being a German car, the cup-holder was one of the least luxurious items in the vehicle, and definitely not made for the super-sized drinks in America. Mallory made a left-hand turn at the first signal causing the sticky beverage to spill over the dash into the radio and all over her legs. She did her best to scoop up as much of the liquid and ice off of the floor when she pulled up to the next light, but she knew Kyle would be angry.

By the time she pulled into the garage, she was petrified by his reaction and was near tears as she walked in the door carrying his bag of food and the near empty plastic cup. "What the hell's wrong with you," he demanded when he saw her eyes as she tossed the cup into the sink.

"I'm sorry Kyle," she started to back away from him, holding the bag of food out to him.

"Sorry for what?" his mood turning dark instantly.

"I... I... I..." she burst into tears, knowing he cared more about his car than he did about her at that moment.

"Just say it, Mal," he spat at her.

"The soda," she finally cried, "It spilled. It wasn't my fault. I swear. The cup holder was too small. There was nothing I could do."

"You spilled a drink in my car?" he was furious, she knew he would be.

"Yes, but I said," she tried to explain, "It wasn't my fault." She was hysterical by now.

"Get out there and get it cleaned up," he grabbed her by the arm dragging her to the garage.

They worked together cleaning up the sticky mess as best they could; Mallory was amazed at how far the soda had splashed. Every crack and crevice on the dashboard was soaked with the sugary soft drink; and by now, it had started to dry, freezing the buttons on the stereo.

"Mal, do you see what a mess you've made?" he asked rhetorically, "I don't see how we're going to get this out. You are so irresponsible; this is why you aren't allowed to drive my car."

"I know," she was still crying, "I'm so sorry."

When they finally finished cleaning the mess, Mallory was exhausted as she walked into the house; she noticed the bag of dinner still sitting on the kitchen counter. "I guess this is garbage now," Kyle said throwing it into the trash, "You're going to have to go get me something else now."

"Okay," she didn't have the energy to argue with him.

"But not until you're punished," he stated as he started to unbuckle his belt.

"What?" her eyes flashed as she looked at him, "I didn't even know we were doing that anymore, Kyle. You didn't really seem interested anymore."

"I never said we weren't," he stated flatly, "Get in the garage and take your skirt off."

"But, Kyle," Mallory tried to protest.

"Now," he demanded.

Mallory was too scared to object; she could see how angry he was, besides, she thought, she deserved it for spilling the drink. She went to the garage and stepped out of her skirt. It was cold; she waited for what seemed like hours before he finally came out.

"Bend over and put your hands on the car," Kyle's voice was cold and cruel.

As she bent over the car, Mallory could not help but think of the irony of the car playing a part in her punishment. She placed her hands on the hood of the car as she spread her legs and closed her eyes waiting for the first blow.

"Spread your legs farther."

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

As the skin on her ass started to burn, Mallory's eyes started to tear; not just from the pain, but from the humiliation at being whipped for an accident.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Mallory thought about her role in this relationship; she thought about the punitive treatment she was accepting for a simple error at placing a soda in a poorly designed cup holder.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

One more, she thought, and then what will happen? Will he expect her to suck his cock? Will he want sex? She was in the mood for neither, she wanted to run, to flee, to get away.

Thwack.

Mallory heard the sound of him buckling his belt; she collapsed on the hood of the car, her legs shaking. The garage door closed behind him as he walked back into the house; she stayed on the cool hood for a few minutes, crying, until she could compose herself. Gathering her skirt from the floor, she pulled it back up around her waist and walked back into the house.

"What can I go get you for dinner, Master?" she hoped he did not notice her sarcastic tone.

***

A few weeks later, Mallory had taken a much-needed day off of work; she was relaxing by the pool. She sat back in the sun thinking about her life, she wanted out; maybe I can just get in my car and drive, she thought, drive and drive until I run out of gas. I could get a job as a waitress somewhere; I have always wanted to work in some little greasy spoon diner, working the counter. But then, I would never see Michael again... sigh...

Just then, she looked down and saw she had a text message on her brand new cell phone; she didn't even know why she brought it with her, she had only had it for a week, Kyle just now allowed her to get one.

"Hey, Mallory," it was Michael.

Oh my god, she thought, how do I use this? I have never sent a text.

"Mallory, are you there?" She started to get upset, she wasn't supposed to use texting, and Kyle had warned her that her phone didn't have that feature.

"I can't get texts," Mallory finally replied.

"What do you mean?" he responded, "You obviously got this." He didn't understand what she meant.

"No," she replied, "I mean, I don't have unlimited texting. They are $0.10 each. I am going to get in trouble."

"Trouble?" he asked, "What the hell?"

"Yes," she pleaded, "Please don't text me anymore."

"Fine," he was clearly irritated, "I'll give you the $0.80 tomorrow. Bye."

Mallory was heartsick; she wanted to talk to Michael more than anything but she was terrified of getting in trouble by Kyle. Besides, she really didn't understand a lot about technology, she wondered if he would be able to read every text. She was worried all afternoon.

***

The next day at work, Michael approached her, "What is this about you 'getting in trouble' about getting a text?"

"Michael," she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, "You have no idea."

"Oh," he stated, touching her cheek, "I think I do. I have been talking to a few people around here; they have no idea how you can be with that guy, Kyle. Everyone says he is a real asshole."

Mallory smiled up at him.

"By the way," he said as he dropped some change on her desk, "Tell the guy here is his 80 cents."



The Story of Mallory Ch. 15



Mallory looked down at the ring encircling her finger; the symbol she was still Kyle's wife. Tears filled her eyes as she took the ring and tenderly placed it in her jewelry box beside a wooden broach shaped like a donkey she had since she was a child. I wonder if he will even notice I am not wearing it any longer, she thought to herself as she finished getting ready for work.

Even though she was not ready to ask for a divorce, Mallory no longer wanted to wear her wedding ring. She was more in love with Michael than she could admit to him, or even to herself. They spent a great deal of time together out of the office now; surprisingly with Kyle's consent.

"I have tickets to see Michael Feinstein this Saturday," Mallory approached her husband one evening over dinner, "I thought it would be fun if we went out to dinner first then went to the show."

"Who is that?" Kyle asked, cutting into his steak, not bothering to look at her.

"He's a singer," she responded, "Allison the new HR assistant gave me tickets because I have been helping her learn her position."

"Oh," he said, disinterested, "Never heard of him. Sounds boring."

"Come on," she tried not to beg too hard, as she really did not want him to come, "We could use a night out."

"Nah," he kept eating, "Why don't you take your gay friend Michael? It sounds like it would be right up his alley."

Mallory had no idea what made him think Michael was gay; however, she was thrilled he had made the suggestion. She was certain her work crush would agree to the invitation, or at least she was hoping he would.

The next day at work, Mallory eagerly asked Michael if he wanted to go with her; she made certain to let him know her husband had suggested she ask him so he would not think she was being forward. She was ecstatic when he decided he would accompany her and inquired if she wanted to have dinner beforehand. She could hardly contain her excitement when she responded yes.

Saturday could not come soon enough; when Mallory saw him arrive at the restaurant, her heart dropped. He looked gorgeous in all black; she did not know how she was going to make it through the evening without begging him to rescue her or run away with her.

They had a sumptuous dinner, chatted, and laughed easily over a bottle of wine, the evening flying by far too quickly. They moved to the ballroom for the show and continued with another bottle of wine, joking about being the youngest people there. Mallory watched how his eyes danced in the dim light, his smile was so warm and inviting, his deep sexy voice so enticing. She had to resist the urge to scoot close to him and cuddle against his large frame as the romantic music lulled her into relaxation.

The performance ended and the lights to the ballroom flashed brightly, Mallory was snapped back into her bitter reality, "Well, thanks for coming with me," she turned to him as she headed for the door.

"I'll walk you out," he politely replied.

"Oh, thank you," she should have expected it from him, he was so gentlemanly.

They walked silently to her car; she did not want the night to end, and she could sense he did not want it to either.

"Mallory," he said as they approached her vehicle, "I had a great time tonight. Thank you."

"I did, too," she said, her voice starting to crack as she held back tears, "I wish..."

"What, Mallory?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing, Michael," she did not know what else to say. She knew he was too good for her; she could not say she loved him, she was stuck with Kyle.

"Come on, Mallory," he coaxed, "Just say it."

"I have to go," she stepped into her car and started to pull on the door, "Or I'll get into trouble."

He just shook his head and watched her pull her car away.

***

Michael and Mallory spent as much time together in the office as they did out; every chance she could find, she would drop by his office or sit next to him in a meeting. One night she volunteered to help him organize his desk so he could complete his employee reviews.

As she sat at his computer color-coding the 700 plus emails in his inbox, her cell phone rang behind her; ignoring it, she did not realize he glanced over and saw the caller ID indicating her husband.

"So, Master Kyle is it?" he asked her.

"What?" Mallory turned around, her face flush, her heart racing.

"Master Kyle," he said again, "Your phone. Is that what you call your husband?"

"Well, uhm..." she was stammering trying to think of a plausible reason as to why she would have such a nickname on her phone. Especially one so important as "Master"; she did not want to have to explain something to Michael that he may be judgmental about. "It's just... it's well..."

"I know what it is, Mallory," his calm voice reassured her as he put his hand on her leg, "It's obvious. The way you talk about 'getting in trouble', the way you are so eager to please everyone, now, seeing that you call him 'Master'; I should have known..."

"What do you mean?" she was near tears now.

"It's not supposed to be this way, Mallory," he suggested, seeing she was about ready to cry, "Let's go have a drink and talk. We shouldn't really talk about this here."

Mallory looked around, realizing they were still at the office; she nodded her agreement.

As she drove to the bar to meet him, she wondered what Michael meant and if he knew she was a slave. She thought about his strong personality and how powerful and commanding his behavior was, not just with her, but with everybody. It was possible he was a Master, but if he was, what difference would it make to her, she was already owned by Kyle.

Mallory sat down across from Michael and started talking as quickly as she could; she was nervous and could not help herself. She explained how she had learned about Gor and being a slave, how she was terribly unhappy with Kyle but felt like she was stuck with him forever, and how she thought she had been in love with Ryan but how she was happy he had left because he turned out to be a disappointment.

As she talked, she drank glass after glass of wine; it took a few glasses for her to notice Michael mostly listened and said very little. He did not look shocked or even surprised to learn of this fictional place called Gor; and he certainly did not seem to be judging her for accepting the role of slave.

Still, he seemed concerned, "Mallory," he started, "I am not sure if you'd be surprised to learn that I'm familiar with Gor myself."

Mallory kept her head down, she did not want to hear of him owning a slave or having any other loves in his life. She did not think she could stand the thought of him being with anybody else; she was not naive, she realized he had been with other women, and the chances of him loving her were slim, but still.

"I don't think you are being treated right," he continued, "I don't like to judge other Masters, but you're being abused; if not physically, at least mentally."

At him saying "other Masters", she knew he was a Master, but she hoped he would never tell her of his past; still, she was interested in listening to him.

"You shouldn't be so scared to be in trouble all the time," he opined, "Discipline is about training and should not always be punitive. Does that make sense to you?"

"Yes, but..." Mallory tried to defend Kyle, but she simply did not know how, "I'm not sure he means to ... well, to hurt my feelings."

"Mallory, do you learn when he strikes you?"

"Well, sometimes it is not necessarily about learning something," she responded, "Like when I spilled the drink in the car. What was I supposed to learn?"

"That is exactly my point," he stated, "What were you supposed to learn? It was an accident. You didn't mean to spill the drink, yet you were terrified even to go home. What did the lashings do for you except hurt your feelings and make you angry?"

Mallory thought about the things Michael was saying to her, but she could not wrap her head around the thought that she might be mentally abused. Kyle was the same man she had tried so hard to please for so many years; he was just selfish sometimes.

"I can't tell you what to do," Michael said as he signed his name to the bill, "But I would love to see you happy. You need to figure out what you want. I think you know what that is, you just have to figure out how to get there, and take a chance."

They walked out to their cars, Mallory shivering from the cold weather, and now from the realization that she wanted Michael more than ever. She kept her hands in her pockets and swayed back and forth trying to maintain distance as Michael said goodbye to her, struggling the temptation to melt into his arms.

"Think about what I said, Mallory," his deep voice forcing her heart to skip a beat.

"Good night, Michael," she closed the door tightly against the night air and watched him walk to his car.

Mallory sat in her car looking out at the mountains, the stereo blasting; she did not want to go home. She longed to be with Michael, to be swept off her feet, especially knowing he was a Master. She wanted to be trained properly, to be loved and cared for; but she wondered if she would ever be good enough for him.