Message-ID: <14997eli$9809040540@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Poet@sjx-ixn3.ix.netcom.com Subject: Around the Cape of Good Hope (34/?) - Wife, D/s Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage,alt.sex.stories.moderated Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <35ef2ce0.34799668@nntp.ix.netcom.com> (The following is a chapter of a full length D/s novel. It is fully copyrighted so please do not repost or utilize on any web site without specific permission. Other of my stories can be found at my web site: http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jon_thompson_3/adult01.htm Comments welcomed by author) Around the Cape of Good Hope chapter thirty four by MarArch Janet's car pulled up in front of the hotel and stopped, allowing her to finally turn and look at where Stephan sat in the passenger seat, a expression of dying hope still dusting her face. The smile he gave her was warm and rich and, in a way, gently chastising. It was almost sunset and as the munch had slowly broken up, they had walked back to Janet's office where she had retrieved her car and driven him back to his hotel. It had been a wonderful afternoon and Stephan was surprised at not only how comfortable and relaxed he had managed to feel in the company of such strangers who merely happened to share this particular interest with him, but also how much of what was discussed sounded so right and natural. In fact, he had to admit to himself, it only served to reinforce the wonderful difference he had felt coming over himself for the last several days... the feeling of surety, even a sense of peace, not only with himself but with other people, particularly women. He had always, when encountering members of the fairer sex, felt somewhat adrift, at a loss to quite understand how to deal with them, what they might be thinking or feeling, what was expected of him and what in particular he should say or do to communicate and connect with them. Now he was beginning to get a tiny sense of understanding about them or at least a feeling that he might have the opportunity to attempt understanding them. He knew he could not claim in any sense to know them, and that he was really only focusing on a single minute aspect of who they might or might not be. By no stretch of the imagination could he consider that, when meeting a woman for the first time, his gradually growing interest in and perhaps increasing ability to read them as possibly being either submissive or dominant would in any way give him a complete picture of them as individuals. But it was, he realized, certainly better than not being able to read them at all, and it did, he discovered, allow him to feel more confident, comfortable and sure of himself in their presence. And that in itself was something quite remarkable and pleasing to him. "I had a wonderful afternoon" he told Janet, beaming with satisfaction and affection. "Thank you for inviting me." "It was my pleasure, Sir" she said, returning his smile. He stared at her for a long moment and again, in her eyes he saw the hope emerging, crowding forward expectantly. "I think" he finally said, "we need to be very honest with one another at this moment. Do you agree?" She nodded, her head bobbing quickly, leaning towards him ever so slightly, her hands tensing on the wheel. "Please, Sir" she whispered. He was surpised at the calm that settled over him as he considered how to explain how he felt, then nodded and began speaking. "You are a lovely woman. Very alluring, very desirable. And I can sense that you would be a wonderful submissive that any Dominant would be very proud to be able to say he controlled in any capacity." Janet lowered her eyes even as she smiled broadly and a blush began to rise in her cheeks. "You are also" he continued "a delightful person, intelligent, witty, fun and very caring. And a great part of me would like to instruct you, at this moment, to park this car, follow me upstairs and be prepared to enjoy a long, very intense night." He could see her gasp silently, her body drawing sharply up with the swift intake of breath. "But" he said, "I think we both know that isn't going to happen for several reasons, not the least of which is that I will be leaving tomorrow afternoon and I don't know when, if ever, we would see each other again. And one night of something is not what you want. Is it." She looked away from him, fixing her eyes through the windshield of the car and sighing, sadly. "No Sir" she said quietly. He sat in silence for a long moment, then reached out to touch her hand, causing her to turn back to him, her eyes sadly questioning. "I would like you to do something for me, however." "Sir?" she said quietly. "Be patient" he said, his voice soft and gentle. "Recognize how special you are. Don't settle for anything less than it will take to make you happy. Can you do that for me?" Slowly a smile spread over her lips and she nodded her head slightly. "Yes Sir. If that would please you." "It would" he said quietly, looking her in her calm, warm eyes, then leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. A moment later he stepped from the car, closed the door and moved toward the lobby. He did not turn back as the car pulled away from the curb and merged with the traffic. "So" the woman who had identified herself as Crystal said, her tone sounding a bit distracted over the phone connection "what kind of equipment have you got?" Doris hesitated before replying carefully. "What do you mean, ‘equipment'?" she said. "You know" the woman said, a fringe of annoyance in her tone "spanking bench, cross, stocks, that stuff." "Oh" Doris replied "nothing that fancy. But we've got three beds and a lot of room. I think we can make do." "Okay" Crystal said with a huffing sigh. "And you say your husband is broken, right?" Doris had to grin to herself at that one. "Oh yeah" she cooed "he's a real pussycat. I think you'll have a good time." "Okay" Crystal repeated "just so you know, we can play kinda rough. Nothing dangerous, no blood sports or anything but it can get pretty fuckin' intense with us.Just so you know that." Doris could feel her pussy quiver and tingle distantly at the thought. "I'm counting on it" she said through her wicked smile. "Cool" Crystal said. "So, I got the directions and everything. We'll be there around eleven or so. This going to be a big party or what?" Doris had only gotten firm commitments from two other couples and one married man who said he would only be able to attend by himself. "No" she said "just about ten or so all together." "Mmmm" Crystal said, as if mulling this over, then suddenly "okay, sounds like fun. We'll see you tomorrow night, then, hon." "I can't wait" Doris said and heard the click on the phone as Crystal hung up. She leaned back on the couch, letting her legs spread and sliding her hand over to cup her crotch through the thick fabric of her jeans, giving it a firm squeeze that shot a ripple of tingles through her. So, she thought, it was really going to happen. She was going to get to see her husband, her slave, get his brains fucked out by not just one but three other women. And, naturally, if the other men who showed up were in any way decent looking she could probably do so with a nice, strange cock buried deep inside herself as well. The images that swirled through her mind sent waves of tingles through her body, causing her nipples to tighten into throbbing buds and she could feel the fluttering need building deep inside her pussy. It was really going to happen, she repeated to herself. She realized suddenly that she and Bob would have a long day ahead of them tomorrow. They would have to clean the entire house, shop for the buffet and stop by the hardware store for some rope and other things that might be needed, as well as swinging by and finally getting him something suitably slavish to wear. She remembered seeing that leather g-string-looking thing with the straps that he would look incredible in, like a Roman gladiator or something. She couldn't remember how much it had been, but that didn't matter. That was something she would love to show him off in and so that was what they would dash over and pick up tomorrow. But for tonight.... She glanced over to the clock on the vcr and saw that it was almost time for him to get home from work. Good. She needed his face between her legs and his tongue stroking her clit right now, after which she thought she might just want to fuck his ass for a little while, drinking in the sound of his whimpering and whining under her. After that, she'd probably go ahead and help him make dinner so they could get a good night's sleep and get started early in the morning. She wanted this party to be perfect, she decided. It was very important that it be absolutely perfect. Barbara drifted through the darkness, her entire body a beacon of glittering tingles, sightless, soundless, as if she were floating in space. Somewhere in her mind she understood that she was blindfolded and gagged, her arms bound to the headboard of the bed, her legs bent up and tightly tied as if she was squatting, but this was the afterglow of something incredible and all she could really sense now was the deep drifting and a ghostly sense of motion, despite her captive position on the bed. It was a sort of timeless place she was now slipping through, broken only by small flickers of awareness that called out to her from various parts of her exhausted body. A distant throb from her aching nipples as her heart contracted in a beat that carried along her veins and put a tiny extra jolt of pressure beneath the tight clamps... a tickling brush of cool motion as his cum trickled from her pussy and brushed some tiny hairs at the crack of her ass... the vague sense of opaic warmth running in bands across her backside and stomach, where the whip had lashed her flesh. Mostly, she felt a deep, distant awareness of being alive and a delicious calm that sometimes settled like a soothing blanket after her most intense sexual trials. She had never been so thoroughly fucked, used or possessed... not by Cheryl, not by Stephan. A vague part of her even casually considered that, were she to slip away from the earth entirely at this moment, her heart simply stopping, her body ceasing to function, it would only extend the sense of peace a very little bit as her mind, her thoughts, her essense floated away into the void forever. Gradually she began to become aware of pressure being placed on her leg, small, sharp flicking movements against it, and then she felt the rope holding the ankle close to the upper thigh begin to slip and her leg relaxing as it was gently straightened and laid softly down on the bed. After a long, timeless moment the sensations were repeated on the other leg. The sense of relief as the tightness was released sent further ripples of relaxation through her and she could imagine her body beginning to lift and float up from the soft mattress on which is was laid. Then something slipped beside her neck, reaching behind her head. A sharp motion and the straps holding the gag in her mouth went slack and were lifted from her cheeks, pulling the soft rubber ball from between her teeth. She moaned, amazed that the simple process of feeling her body slowly and gently being unbound could be so liberating, so deep, make her feel so light and free. But this same process was also drawing her back to the present, to the place where her mind had left her body who knows how long before, and she took a moment to draw in a deep, steadying breath as she felt the flicking pressure at her hands stretched high over her head. In a few moments the thongs binding them also slipped loose and then were gone, allowing her weak and trembling arms to slide down until the hands were close to her face. Lastly, as she stretched, cat-like, luxuriating in the tingling sensations, her head was lifted slightly and the blindfold slid away, leaving her only in the darkness imposed by her own closed eyes. She didn't want to open them, wanted to simply slip around some corner in this sweet, comforting blackness, and rest, but finally she allowed them to slip open and slowly focus. Philip was standing over her, beside her, looking down, smiling warmly. He looked to her like some shimmering angel, his fluffy white bathrobe dangling from his shoulders. He was a spirit of all her desires made flesh. She smiled, a kitten-weak, contented curling of the lips in complete triumph, and was about to open her mouth to whisper that sweetest of words, to acknowledge him as her owner and protector, when his voice cut quietly through the stillness of the room. "Time to go" he said, and straightened, turning away from her and moving around the foot of the bed toward a large dresser against the far wall. She was momentarily confused by this pronouncement, but had to struggle against the deep relaxation in her body in order to force herself up onto her side, one elbow propping her so she could see his back as he opened the drawer and rummaged through it. "Sir?" she managed to gasp out, now feeling the limpness shimmering away from her body and strength returning. "Yes?" he replied, his back still toward her as he lifted a neatly-folded shirt from the drawer and seemed to examine it. "I - I don't know what you mean" she finally said, weakly. He turned partway to look over his shoulder and smile at her. "I mean, time for you to go home" he said, his smile still fixed but his tone now taking on an edge of firmness, then turned back to the drawer and the shirt in his hand, eyeing it critically. "But - " she sputtered, the confusion now tipped with a growing panic "I - Sir, why do I have to go. I thought..." Her voice trailed off as she saw him place the shirt on the dresser and open another drawer. "Mmmm?" he muttered absently "thought what, pet?" Barbara's sense of peace and contentment fell away from her like glittering shards of shattered glass from a vulnerable window pane, allow a flush of coldness to brush over her. Her stomach tightened and she felt a welling of desperate energy flood her. Quickly she flipped up, shifted and came up onto her knees, assuming what she had been taught was a suitably respectful submissive posture, lowering her head. "Sir" she said calmly, picking her words carefully "I thought... that we... that tonight I was..." She sensed rather than saw him stop his rummaging in the dresser and turn to fully face her. "What are you saying, pet?" he said, and his tone had an edge of annoyance in it. "Sir" she whispered, her chest now tightening, making the words come out forced and tense "I thought I would be staying here tonight... with you." There was a long moment's deathly silence and she could feel the waves of tension ripple between them like static electricity before he spoke again. "No, pet" he said quietly, his own voice tight as if struggling to remain calm while picking its way through trecherous waters "I'm busy this evening. And in fact, I'm running a bit late." "May I come with you, Sir?" she blurted, feeling as if the bed on which she was kneeling was rapidly sliding back, away from him, the sense of distance increasing like she was trapped in some mad, dark dream. "That... wouldn't be a good idea" he said quietly. A chill rolled over Barbara as if the entire comforting home in which she had been nestled only a few minutes before had suddenly vaporized around her, leaving her open and naked to the elements. She drew in a breath to speak, but realized she had no words and let it escape from her body in silence. At the edge of her downturned vision she saw him move, stepping from the dresser to the foot of the bed before her. "Look at me" he said quietly yet firmly. Barbara slowly raised her eyes until they met his, noticing that he held in one hand a black silk shirt and in the other a pair of black briefs... instantly she knew why she was not wanted this evening. "Pet" he said quietly, his voice sounding unsure for the first time since she'd known him "I have things I have to do this evening. A previous engagement." Without thinking she heard her voice, felt her mouth move. "Break it" she said quietly, startling herself. "Please" she hastened to add, her voice quivering. His expression seemed to harden slightly, as if struggling to remain tolerant. "I can't" he said firmly. "And I don't want to. Now, we will be together all night tomorrow, at the party and afterwards. For now, I want you to get up and start pulling yourself together so you can go home. Understand?" At that moment the slightest breath could have shattered her into miserable dust and spewed her to the four winds. She struggled against this fragility, fighting desparately to focus herself, grasp at something. "Did I not please you, Sir" she whispered. "Do I not please you?" Instantly his smile flowed. "You please me very much, pet" he said, his tone rich and warm. "Just as I know you were pleased. And now it's time for us to move on to other things for a while." "But" she blurted suddenly "I don't want to move on. I want to stay here... with you." She could see the effort he made to remain calm, drawing in a breath, before speaking. "I know, pet" he said, calmly, reasonably "but you can't. Not tonight. Tomorrow." The word floated out to her like a raft of hope in an endless, forbidding ocean and she lunged for it in savage desperation. "All night tomorrow, Sir?" she said quickly. "Yes" he said, his tone tolerant, "all night tomorrow." "Promise?" she added, hearing the growing desperation in her tone and beginning to hate herself for it. "I promise" he said, though his eyes were suddenly turning cold and unkind. "Now, you must get up, get dressed and get along home. Right now." With that he turned his back to her and moved to the dresser to continue his scavaging. Barbara felt her entire body sag, as if the elastic of her essense was melting and weakening. He had a date, she could feel herself thinking. He has spent the last several hours ravaging her body, driving her to a peak of perfection, fulfilling her, completing her... fucking her... and now he was going off to be with someone else. And everything that had occured between them, the deepest parts of her that she had opened to him, placed in his hands and given into his care he had simply placed back onto the bed beside her, discarded and empty. She felt suddenly more weary than she could ever recall, and ached to simply slump over, curl into a ball, close her eyes, and slip away into deep, numbing sleep. She wanted the world to vanish into a void and leave the shell of her in peaceful, thoughtless oblivion. Barbara looked up to see him push the dresser drawer closed and step through the door into the bathroom, flicking on the light and leaning in to gaze at himself in the mirror over the sink, and it was as if he was in another building, beyond a cloudy window, across an unbridgable alleyway, going about his tasks and totally unaware of her. Slowly she lowered herself to her hands and crawled with aching slowness to the side of the bed, gently placing a foot on the floor and finding her balance, feeling as if she was rising from a sickbed, and slowly shuffled toward where her clothes lay on the other side of the room in a discarded, rumpled heap. "Pet?" she heard him call from the bathroom, causing her to stop as if bright, accusing headlights had suddenly flashed over and captured her, but found herself unable to reply. He stepped into the doorway from the bathroom, his face now radiating that warmth once more. "Would you like to take a shower before you go?" he asked. For a long moment she merely looked at him, puzzled, as if not able to understand the question, then she simply shook her head. "No Sir" she said quietly "thank you, Sir" and turned back, bending to scoop up her dress from the floor. "Pet" he said, his voice firmer now. She straightened and turned to him once more. "Do we have" he said quietly "some sort of misunderstanding here?" "I don't know what you mean, Sir" she said, her voice dull, toneless. He eyed her slowly up and down, as if calculating some distant formula, then stepped into the room, stopping to lean an elbow onto the dresser. "Pet" he said, his voice firm but kindly now "you shouldn't read too much into things. At least, not that quickly. We are only at the very beginning of... whatever it is we are sharing together. I find it very pleasing, and I know you do as well. But it is also wise to go... cautiously. Not to rush too fast into things. There is a great deal of pleasure we can share together... and if it's right... for both of us..." He shrugged. "For now, we should both simply enjoy what it is we do share between us, for what it is. And everything else, if it's meant to be, will come along in time. Do you agree?" No, she wanted to say, I don't agree, just as a fly trapped in the center of a web could not agree that if they were to become a meal it would happen in good time, that once captured it was merely cruel to delay the consuming, especially when there was no hope of escape. Instead she simply forced her lips to curl up in a smile. "Yes Sir" she said flatly. He nodded, if not completely satisfied, at least molified for the immediate future, and turned to re-enter the bathroom. Barbara closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, as if seeking to inflate herself once more, then looked at the rumpled dress in her hands and began to turn it over slowly, searching for the opening that would allow her to cover herself and her growing shame with its telltale, disheveled folds. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----