Reading Allowed, Pt.9

Reading Allowed, Pt.9

nbvn3003504

She was already composing an apology in her mind when she heard his returning footsteps. She waited. The footsteps came to the side of the bed and stopped. He seized her wrists in one hand and Marie was prepared to be dragged off the bed, or held there and flogged or…. anything but the click of her handcuffs being unlocked and then removed. Anything but being gently rolled onto her back and taken in his arms as he lay down beside her. Anything but being kissed tenderly and told, "Yes, you’re forgiven, princess," and then kissed again.
Marie had to duck her head, faintly ashamed at the thought of him seeing how powerfully he affected her emotions. She nuzzled her cheek against his warm chest and tried to blink back her tears. Would there ever come a day when his approval made her feel only mild satisfaction? Surely she wouldn’t always be this overwhelmed with joy and relief when she pleased him… She needed to get a grip. In an attempt to distract herself, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head: "Are you mad that I can’t cook?"

He laughed. "Wouldn’t it have been nice to have a slave who was capable in the kitchen?" he mused, teasing her. "Fortunately, I’m competent enough for us both, I think."

"Yes, Master—thank you for the lovely meals," Marie hurried to say.

"How do you manage when I’m not around?" He was genuinely curious.

Marie grimaced, thinking of how frequently she ate cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—how horrified he’d be to hear of that, she thought! "You don’t want to know," she muttered.

There was a brief pause, and Marie continued to hide her face from him. Strangely, she didn’t feel at all sleepy now. There was a sort of tension between them, things they needed to talk about.

Finally he broke the silence, murmuring, "How are you feeling now, princess?"

Suddenly realizing she’d been holding her breath, Marie exhaled shakily. "I feel…well…" she hesitated, trying to put her myriad emotions into words. Just then he rolled to the side so that she found herself on her back, his weight on her legs and hips, while he braced himself on his elbows, looming over her. She felt comfortable this way, with his power so clearly defined in their respective positions, despite the way his authority made her heart beat faster. She put her arms around him gratefully. He slipped his fingers into her hair on either side of her head, stroking the line of her jaw with his thumbs and tilting her face up, so she finally looked into his eyes. "I feel like I’m drugged," Marie finally blurted, the admission coming out in a whoosh of breath. "It’s—you—are…intoxicating," she tried to explain. "I—I really don’t know how I’m going to go back to my normal, boring life. With you, every minute I’m feeling something. It’s…dizzying."

She searched his face to see how he was reacting to this, but as usual he gave nothing away. A moment later, though, he moved his hand and idly closed it over her breast, his hot palm brushing her nipple. Immediately, she gave a little gasp and arched her back, trying to push her chest towards him in invitation.

"Such passion," he murmured. He didn’t tell her this, but his feelings since meeting her were not dissimilar. This thing between them may have started as a game, as far as he was concerned, but it had quickly become something much more important, something all too real. He pictured her as she’d been on that first night, passion warring with uncertainty in her demeanor, spread out naked on that table in the back room, her pussy swollen and wet for him even as she writhed in the pain from her clamped nipples. Even he could not have guessed how easily she would become his slave, how completely she fell into the role once given the chance.

He wondered how she’d feel if she knew he’d been watching her, on and off, for most of the day; that the ‘security’ cameras installed all over the house provided a live feed to his computer that he could access from his cell phone? He’d never been able to watch for more than a minute or so at a time, and only when he was alone, of course, which hadn’t been often that day. But he’d checked as often as he could, knowing that with her hands chained the way they’d been there was some danger of her falling or otherwise injuring herself, and he’d been prepared to rush back to the house on a moment’s notice if need be. Not to mention the immense satisfaction it gave him to watch his sweet, naked little slave struggling to serve him obediently even when he wasn’t there to oversee her, even when she so obviously hated what she was doing.

Such sweetness, such passion…such complete surrender. Yes, he was becoming at least as intoxicated with her as she was with him…and he wasn’t at all sure that was a good thing. He was glad that the weekend was nearly over. They both needed to catch their breath.

He leaned down and kissed each of her nipples in turn, tenderly. Then he raised his face to hers. "Your ‘normal’ life is never going to be boring for you again, princess. From now on, no matter how far apart we are, no matter where you are or what you’re doing you will always be aware of what makes you different from everyone else in the world."

He fell silent, and waited. Marie looked up at him, her eyes shining, and whispered, "That I belong to you, Master."

He made no reply, other than to lean down and kiss her on the mouth. He lingered there, gathering her up in his arms and crushing her to him as if trying to pull her all the way inside his body. It was a long time before he let her go. Then he rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her with him so that she nestled into his shoulder, her head resting on his chest.

They slept.


Marie awoke, feeling him gently caressing her hair. It was still dark outside, with just the barest wash of gray hinting at the approach of dawn. He was standing next to the bed, leaning over her. As she became more awake she saw the he was fully dressed—and that he was holding her collar and leash in his hands.

"Time to go, princess," he said softly.

Marie’s heart sank within her. She’d hoped they’d wake up together, snuggle in bed for a while, maybe fuck again, shower together and have a leisurely breakfast—prepared by him, of course—before he sent her on her way. Oh god, she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him at all—why did it have to be like this? The life she’d been leading contentedly enough just a few days ago now stretched before her like an endless desert. Still, he was here now, holding her collar and leash…

She obediently sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, lowering her head and offering her neck for him to close the collar around. Instead, she felt his lips there, warm, soft and a little dry, and this show of tenderness, especially when she was already feeling so vulnerable, had the effect of making her burst into tears, fall to her knees and throw her arms around his legs, sobbing, "Please don’t make me go, Master! Please! Let me stay here…I’ll clean the house, I’ll…I’ll learn how to cook, I promise! I’ll…I’ll…" She dissolved into incoherent sobs, her head against his thigh, her shoulders shaking.

She felt her arms being gently disengaged as he knelt down to face her, taking her hands in his own. He waited for her to raise her eyes to his. "You belong to me," he began, softly. "You are my most precious possession." He reached up to cup her face in hands and used his thumbs to brush away the tears as he continued, "But that’s not all you are…and neither one of us would be happy for long if you tried to be." He pulled her forward until her head rested on his shoulder and began stroking her hair. "I’m going to take you home. You’re going to do your homework, answer your email, catch up with things. Tomorrow you’ll go to your classes, talk with your friends, live your life just as you’ve been doing." He pulled her away from his shoulder and looked into her eyes. "You will not contact me or come here or to my store until Friday night, is that understood?"

Marie, white-faced, her expression stricken, gave the barest of nods and whispered, "Yes, Master."

He reached down for the collar, which he had dropped to the floor, and fastened it around her neck. "You will wear this at all times, except when you shower."

Marie felt oddly comforted as the cool steel settled onto her collarbones, and she gave him a tremulous smile as she answered, a little more firmly, "Yes, Master." She ignored the tiny voice at the back of her mind asking how she would explain the collar to her friends.

He stood then, raising her to her feet along with him, and embraced her once more, holding her closely to him for a long moment. When he released her and stepped back Marie saw that he had picked up the leash as well; she stood meekly while he attached it to the collar.

He led her downstairs, out the door and into the elevator. He took her down to the garage and helped her into his van, and they drove in silence through the empty streets and the lightening sky until they reached the run-down apartment building where she lived, near to the college. Marie didn’t dare to ask how he knew where to go. She was also becoming more and more aware of the fact that she was still completely naked except for her collar and leash. That she hadn’t had a shower since…she couldn’t remember how long ago it had been but it felt like days. That she smelled of sweat and sex…and Him.

But when the van pulled over to the curb and stopped she simply waited to be told what to do, her gaze locked on him. He got out of the van, came around to her side, opened the door and indicated, by taking her leash in hand and giving it a gentle tug, that she was to get out. She obediently climbed down and stood facing him on the sidewalk, naked, arms at her sides, giving him her complete attention. It was cool enough outside to goosepimple her flesh, and the sun was just beginning to peak above the horizon. She willed herself not to shiver. But it was hard not to, standing at the borderline between her two lives like that.

He reached up and unfastened the leash from her collar, wrapping it lightly around his wrist. He turned away for a moment, sliding open the back door of the van and reaching inside. When he turned to face her again Marie saw that his arms were full of the clothes she had left behind when he’d taken her out of the bookstore a lifetime ago. He handed them to her—even her panties, both sets on top of the pile, naturally—then reached into the van again, coming up with her purse, which he added to the pile, much to Marie’s relief, considering that it held all her keys, among other things.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He ran his hands lightly over her behind for a moment then leaned forward over the pile of clothes in her arms and gave her a kiss full of warmth and affection. He pulled back and looked into her eyes and Marie saw that what he had said earlier was true: she was his slave, yes, but she was more than that. Especially to him.

He left without another word, climbing into his van and driving off. Marie stood there watching until the van was lost in the glare of the rising sun, then turned and walked slowly to the door of her building, not caring if anyone saw her or not.

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