As we neared the house, I noticed Philip looking out a window at us.

Once inside, I had her change shoes and put on her house blouse. Philip

walked into the room, and when she saw him she ran to him and threw her

arms around his neck. She said, "Philip, I'm going to be all right. I

can grieve for the loss of my family now, I can heal." Philip was

speechless, he just held her in his arms. He looked at me, and I told

him that he had raised a wonderful woman.

She finally let go of Philip and kissed him on the cheek. She said that

she was exhausted and that she needed to go to bed. I told her to go

ahead, I would be there in a minute. When she had left the room, I said,

"Philip, you know my name, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir", he replied, "I worked with the detective to have you brought

here. He gave me your name, Sir, and I gave it to Mr. Collins, her

family's lawyer."

"Does she know?"

"Oh, no, Sir. She forbade me or her lawyer to tell her your name. She

said that if you wanted her to know your name you would tell her. She

even made her lawyer create transparent overlays that blocked out your

name on all of the legal papers she had to read and sign, when she

transferred everything to you."

"You're more than just a butler, aren't you, Philip?"

"I did many things for Carrie's father, Sir. Butler was one of them. At

my age, Sir, this job has enough challenges to keep me occupied."

"I'm betting you're also a sort of bodyguard."

"I was enjoying an early retirement, when I was contacted by Mr.

Collins, who thought that Carrie might be at risk. My wife and I moved

here immediately and took up residence in the guest house a few hundred

feet away. This property has an elaborate security system, Sir, although

it might not be apparent unless you know what to look for. I am her last

line of defense."

"And what would cause you to take defensive measures against me?"

"Carrie made it very clear, Sir, that no matter what I saw and no matter

what I thought was happening, you were not a threat and were not to be

interfered with. She described in detail some of the more ... disturbing

things I might see. I suppose I would follow her orders until it was too

late, Sir."

"And then?"

"Then there would be a price to pay, Sir."

"I guess I'll have to take my chances, Philip, because I love her, and

I'm not going anywhere unless she decides this is not what she wants any

more."

"I understand, Sir. I'm beginning to think there is no cause for

concern. Will that be all, Sir?"

I told him I would like to discuss this more with him later, but for now

would he please to bring me some kind of sandwich and an iced tea in the

bedroom. Then I went to check on her. She had collapsed face down on the

bed, still wearing her blouse and shoes. I carefully removed them, then

rolled her into position with her head on the pillow and put the covers

over her. I pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. The clock read

12:10 PM. Some time later Philip brought my food, and I ate it. I

watched her sleep for a few hours, then finally dozed off, still sitting

in the chair.

I awoke when I heard her say, "Master?" She was lying there looking up

at me. It was 7:35 PM.

I smiled at her and said, "William Edward Patterson. Bill."

"Who's that?" she said.

"That's me. That's my name. You will still call me Master, but I want

you to know my name."

"May I use it once, please Master?"

"Once, and only once."

She beamed a smile at me. "Bill, you have given me so many gifts today,

how can I thank you?"

"You made all of this possible, Carrie. It's I who am in your debt."

With a devilish grin, she said, "Come to bed, Master, let's repay some

of our debts to one another."

I asked her if she could cook, and she said that she was a very good

cook. I told her that I made dinner last night, tonight it was her turn,

get out of bed. She got up and I held her blouse for her to slip into.

She said she needed a bathroom break, so I sat on the edge of the tub

and talked to her while she used the toilet and bidet, and washed her

hands and face. She started to dry herself, but I took the towel and did

it for her. I walked up to the toilet to urinate, and she asked me if

she could hold my cock while I peed. I told her I wasn't sure whether I

would pee or become erect with her holding it, but let's try it and see.

She needed to practice her aim. but she did Ok for her first time.

When we came out of the bathroom, I reminded her to put on her heels.

She asked if she could remain barefooted. I told her no, but if she had

any lower heels she preferred wearing she could put them on. We went to

the room where her clothes were. While she found a pair of shoes, I told

her that tomorrow we would sort through her things and see what could be

kept and what would have to go. I said the items we were keeping would

be moved back to the main bedroom, because unless she was spending the

night downstairs, she would always sleep in the same bed with her Master.

While she prepared a light dinner, I opened a bottle of chilled white

wine and poured two glasses. She seemed surprised that I was letting her

have a whole glass to herself. I handed her a glass, raised mine, and

said "To Carrie and Bill, may they be together always." She took a sip,

looked into my eyes, and said, "I believe they will, Master."

As we ate, I told her about my plans for tomorrow. After breakfast we

would sort her clothes. Then we would go downstairs, and she would

exercise for an hour or so, including some instructions on the weights.

Then I would attach her to the rails and butt fuck her. She would then

get a shower, and we would come back up for lunch. In the afternoon we

would go for a long hike, and she would show me the property. She would

bring a blanket and sun block, and would be naked except for shoes. The

real purpose of the tour would be to find good places to stop and fuck

for awhile. After a casual dinner we would go back downstairs and she

would demonstrate the learning machine for me. Then I would put her in

her bed and give her a goodnight fuck. I would spend the night on the

couch down there, and every time I woke up she would get another fuck. I

asked her if that seemed like a good day's activities to her. She

laughed, and said unless she missed something it sounded like she would

only get fucked once all morning, what was the problem? I told her she

was ignoring what would happen before breakfast, and asked her if she

remembered this morning's activities prior to Philip's arrival. She

smiled, said that was more like it, and kissed me.

After dinner, I filled the wine glasses and we moved to the living room.

I plopped on the couch and told her to light the fire in the fireplace,

then sit beside me. We sat and watched the fire and talked of trivial

things for probably two hours. Then she looked at me and asked me to

please fuck her, so we engaged in some heavy petting and a couple of

good fucks on the couch, then went to bed. It was only 10:30, and we had

both slept all afternoon, but still we went to sleep before we could get

around to another fuck.

I woke up around 4:30, to find she was sucking my cock. I told her that

if she got me off when I wasn't awake to enjoy it, she would be in

trouble. She laughed and said I was awake now, why didn't I do

something? That started the ball rolling, and it was still rolling when

Philip showed up shortly after 7:00. This time when he made his

appearance, I was butt fucking her over the back of a chair, while

reaching around to stimulate her clit and a breast, and she was laughing

at a joke I had just told her. We had paused our activity for him

yesterday, but I didn't feel like stopping this time. Philip's jaw fell

open, but before he could speak, while still laughing and while I was

still pounding her asshole, she said, "Same order as yesterday, Philip,

but would you please section my grapefruit?" She also came while she was

talking, but she did a good job of covering it up. Philip closed the

door again, not having said a word. She looked around at me and we both

laughed some more. I said that maybe next time he would knock first.

Again we were cleaned up just as Philip came back with breakfast. Even

though she wasn't manacled this time, I fed her breakfast anyway. I also

allowed her a cup of coffee, telling her it was a reward for ordering

sectioned grapefruit and for having such a cute ass. After breakfast, I

told her she would have some leeway in shoe choice in the evening, but

during the day it was my choice, and the choice was the high heels. She

immediately put them on, and I told her it was sorting time.

When we reached the guest room where she had stored her clothes, I sat

on the bed and told her to first take everything that had pant legs, and

make a pile on the floor, she would never wear them again. I then told

her to add any dress to the pile that was tight around her legs or that

didn't allow her breasts to be fully exposed without removing the dress

from her shoulders. All but a few of her dresses were added to the pile.

I then had her take out her blouses one by one and show it to me. Some I

had her put on before deciding. She was able to keep all of them except

the ones that closed from the back. All pullovers had to go unless they

looked so stunning on her that I didn't want to throw them out. I let

her keep a few like that, but told her that pullovers were for

occasional use, special occasions only. Next she showed me all of her

skirts. About half of them were discarded, mostly because they were too

tight to pull up easily, or because they were just plain ugly. I told

her we would keep all of the shoes for now.

I asked if she had any stockings or pantyhose. She had a few pairs of

the latter, and they were added to the pile. She showed me the stockings

one pair at a time, and I let her keep the ones I thought would look

sexy on her. I told her they, too, were for special occasions. She also

had some of those short, white socks women usually wore with sneakers,

and I her told to keep all of them. Garter belts? She only had a few, I

let her keep the two that looked sexy when she modeled them. Bras? all

were added to the pile. Slips? Keep them all except the tight ones,

special use only. Finally I told her to dump all panties on the pile.

This was the first time she raised any objection. She said that she

preferred panty shields to tampons when she had her period, and asked if

she could keep a few panties for that use only. I asked her if she was

unable to use tampons, and she said no, she sometimes used them. I told

her that from now on she would use only tampons, or nothing at all, to

toss all the panties on the pile. As she was doing that, I told her that

she would never insert or remove a tampon without asking me first, so I

could decide whether to do it myself or to watch her while she did it.

She gave me a shocked look, and I told her that there was no aspect of

her life that I would not be involved in. I would tear down all the

walls between us.

Since there were no more clothes to sort, I told her to take the keepers

into our bedroom and put them in the closet next to my clothes or in a

drawer that already contained clothing articles of mine, to leave the

drawer she put her things in partially open so I wouldn't have to search

for it, and then to assume the Waiting Pose in the mural room. I

cautioned her not to try to sneak anything from the discard pile into

our closet, I would know and she would be punished. Then I left her to

her task.

I went in search of Philip, and I found him in the kitchen. I told him

that I planned to take Carrie outside every day that the weather allowed

it, and asked him to tell me the risk of the two of us wandering around

on the property. He said that the security system looks out from the

property as well as inside, and so far there have been no unidentified

or suspicious people seen. I asked him who monitors the equipment, and

he said it was subcontracted to the best industrial security firm in the

country.

I said that must be expensive, and he said that he and Mr. Collins had

agreed that the costs of this level of security was high, but it was a

drop in the bucket considering Carrie's wealth. He also said that there

was no price too high to protect Carrie, for those who loved her. I told

him that I was also in that category, and that I agreed. I asked him if

she knew of all these precautions. He said she probably suspects, but

she had never asked and they didn't see the need to add that to her

concerns. Again I agreed, but I asked him how it was all paid for

without her direct involvement. He paused for a moment, then shrugged

and told me Mr. Collins had a wide latitude in committing her funds. I

asked him if Mr. Collins was trustworthy. He told me that Mr. Collins

was not a stereotype lawyer, and that he was certain that Mr. Collins

would never betray Carrie's trust in him.

I said that Carrie's wish to transfer all of her wealth to me must have

caused them some concern. He said it had, especially since Carrie

demanded that all of Mr. Collins expenditures had to be approved first

by me. I said that if he was sure that we could trust Mr. Collins, to

please tell him to restore his discretionary authority when transferring

it all back to Carrie. He stammered a bit, paused like he was conflicted

about revealing more, then finally said that the papers authorizing full

control by me had never actually been filed. He added that, had the

issue arisen from either Carrie or me, Mr. Collins would have

immediately taken steps to implement the change, but that they wanted to

learn as much as possible about me first. I laughed and told them I had

suspected that, and that I would expect no less diligence from them in

the future. He actually looked relieved.

I then told him the real reason I had come to talk to him. I told him

that I didn't know if the organization would move against Carrie or not.

The more time passes, the less likely it seems. Surely they realize that

if she was going to try to cause problems for them, she would have done

it by now. On the other hand, they may be committed to recapturing her

or worse, but they just haven't found her yet. I then told him that

anything I asked him to do was a request to a person who is employed by

Carrie, and that he would either do as I asked or not. That was fine

with me. But what I wanted from him now was not a request, it was a

demand. If there were ever a real threat to Carrie, I demanded to be

included in her defense. I never expected his response: "Were you

planning to take her outside today, Sir?" I said yes, today and any

other day the weather was good. He asked me to wait for a moment and he

left the room.

In a minute Philip returned, and handed me a pocket pager. I asked him

what it was for, and he said that it would receive direct messages from

the security monitoring service, and that he could also send me messages

while we were out walking, should the need arise. He said that messages

from the security service would always be prefixed with INFO, CAUTION,

WARNING, or THREAT, depending upon the perceived danger level. He said

that messages from him would use the same convention, but the security

prefix would always begin with P, so I would know that it was from him.

I thanked him for trusting me, and told him I needed to know one more

thing: "Where are the weapons?" He gave me a blank stare for a moment,

and then said if I was referring to guns, Carrie hated guns and would

not allow guns in the house. I said, "Ok then, where are the weapons

hidden?" He just shrugged, and said "In every room of the house, Sir." I

told him I needed to know where every one of them was. He just stood

there looking at me for what seemed like a long time, then he said, "If

you will follow me, Sir."

He first took me to an small office-like room, I assumed it was where he

hung out while he was at the house but not busy. He moved aside a high

bookcase that was actually on wheels, and there was a gun rack behind

it. It had four pump shotguns and two automatics, one high powered rifle

with a scope, a night vision scope, about half a dozen 30-30 lever

action rifles like the kind seen in old westerns, a drawer full of

pistols, and enough ammunition to outfit an army. He asked me if I saw

anything I thought I couldn't handle. I said that I probably wouldn't be

competent to sight in the scopes, but I could handle everything else. He

closed the rack and replaced the bookcase, then led me on a tour of the

rest of the house. He said that all of the other guns in the house were

fully loaded pistols.

I told him we couldn't go in our bedroom, because she was waiting in the

mural room and would hear us. He asked me if I was sure she would remain

there, and I said that was one thing I was absolutely sure of. He looked

at me as if asking why, and I said it was because I had commanded her to

go there and not to move until I arrived. I was surprised that he asked

the question, did she ever disobey my commands? I said that so far, she

hasn't even disobeyed my requests, and that I was beginning to worry

that she would start doing things I'm only thinking of asking her to do.

He told me that the only gun in the bedroom was attached to the

underside of the table we had been using for breakfast. I told him he

had to move that one immediately, and he asked why. I told him that I

had already lost count of the number of times Carrie and I had had sex

on the floor in there, and it would only be a matter of time until she

was lying on her back, looking up at the underside of that table. I told

him we would be going to the basement for a few hours as soon as he

showed me where the other guns were, and that he should move that one

right away. He said he would, and led me on a tour the other rooms. Most

of the guns were hidden behind or under something in locations she would

never look, but I suggested relocating some of them and gave him my

reasons, and in each case he agreed that he would move them as soon as

he could find a better hiding place.

As he wrapped up the tour, he asked if he could make a request of me. I

said ask away, and he said that the guest house he shared with his wife

was down the hill from here, behind a dense stand of foliage. He asked

that when I was out with Carrie and she was undressed, or when we were

engaging in sexual activities, would we please try to stay out of sight

of his house? He said that his wife was also someone with a deep love

for Carrie, and that he didn't think she would understand if she saw

those types of things. I told him that we would try to stay out of sight

of his house, and asked him where we should go to avoid it. He said that

any place on the property that wasn't downhill from here would be fine.

I told him we would not go near his house unless we were both fully

dressed, and he thanked me. In turn, I thanked him for his trust and

went off to meet Carrie.

Entering the bedroom, I looked under the table and verified that there

was indeed a pistol there. Then I glanced at the clock, and was

surprised to see that I had been with Philip for nearly an hour. I

grabbed a pair of her sneakers, and white socks from the partially-open

drawer, and went to the mural room. She was Posed there as I knew she

would be. I asked her if there was any more bondage equipment than what

she usually wore plus the alternate ankle manacles. She replied with

perfect formality that there was lots of it, in drawers adjacent to the

Master's enclave. I kissed her and told her she was perfect, for me

anyway. I had her strip, parked the shoes on the table, attached her

bonds, attached her wrists to the belt behind her back, grabbed the

shoes, and led her to the training room. I told her to lead me to the

drawers, which she did.

I rummaged through the gear until I found everything I wanted, then told

her to go to the ritual bars. She gave me a big smile, expecting that

sex would be forthcoming. I reattached her wrists to the side of her

belt, then told her to lean her back against the front rail, and give me

one foot at a time so I could put on the shoes and socks. Then I told

her to go to the elliptical trainer. She looked disappointed, and I

said, "I gave you today's plan, Slave. Exercise, then sex. Don't give me

that sad sack face, or punishment might be substituted for sex today."

While she waited, I looked for attach points on or near the trainer.

That was something she had apparently never thought of, because she

wasn't in training long enough the first time to be put on the exercise

equipment. Finally I found a stationary piece of structure on the

trainer that would do the job without the risk of getting her leash

tangled in the mechanism. I told her she would be on a long leash while

exercising, since I had to release her wrists for safety, in case she

fell. I gave her the choice of being leashed by the belt or the collar

"like a dog." Having added that last phrase to my explanation for a

reason, I knew which she would choose, and sure enough she requested

that I leash her by the collar. I attached the leash to her collar with

a small padlock, first making sure the key that was with the padlock

would actually unlock it. Then I attached it to the elliptical trainer,

freed her wrists, and told her to climb on.

When she got on the trainer, I told her to go ahead and do what she

normally did, so she started. While she was warming up, I asked her if

she had a heart rate monitor. She didn't have one. So I asked her how

she paced herself, and she said that after a few minutes to warm up, she

just worked as hard as she could for an hour. Knowing her, I knew when

she said "as hard as she could," she meant that literally. I told her

she would never do that again, I would show her how I wanted her to

exercise.

I made her go slow for 5 minutes to warm up, then I told her to stop and

step off the trainer. She looked puzzled, but did as I told her. I then

showed her the leg stretching exercises she would always do after the

first 5 minutes. Since the elliptical trainer also had moveable

handlebars, and she used them, I also gave her a set of arm and shoulder

stretches that she would also do. When she had performed all of the

stretches to my satisfaction, I told her to climb back on and start her

exercise. As she did that, I walked to the front of the trainer and sat

on the floor with my back against the mirrored wall, looking up at her.

I told her that, since she didn't have a heart monitor, we would use a

different technique. I told her that from now on, the formal speech

requirement did not apply while she was on the elliptical trainer. I

explained that she would now exercise for 30 minutes. During that time

she would talk to me continuously. She would not ask questions, she

would talk to me, tell me what she was thinking, tell me about her

childhood, anything she wanted to say, but she would not stop talking. I

would judge from listening to her voice whether she was working too

hard, or not hard enough, and correct her accordingly. I told her that

to start she would work as hard as she normally did. She immediately

sped up, and I told her to start talking now, and not to stop.

At first, she kept running out of things to say. I would command her

again to talk, and she would start a new trivial subject. Sooner than I

expected, she started getting to the important stuff. She started

talking about how she felt when we were fucking, how she felt totally

controlled by her Master, yet powerful. She said her certainty grew

every day that she was in the right place, with the right man. She told

me she didn't worry anymore about whether or not she would cum, she just

did it as many times as she wanted to, until she was too exhausted to

cum any more. That's what I thought she was doing, but without the

sensors and computer the organization used, it was impossible to know

for sure.

I just listened, except a few times she was getting winded and I told

her to slow her workout pace a little. It wasn't long before she got

around to our little talk yesterday, about her denial of her grief and

wanting to feel pain to punish herself for being alive. In the short

time since then, she seemed to have fully accepted the truth of what she

recognized during our talk. That was excellent, I was afraid she would

later deny it. She said that she could feel that her healing was

beginning, thanks to her wonderful Master. I made an exception to the

rule at that point, to say that it was the Slave who pushed through the

pain to get to the truth, not the Master. Then she started talking about

how it made her feel when I commanded her, or even when I asked her to

do something, which to her was also a command. She said she longed for

the day when I would take her out in public to "strut her stuff," to use

her phrase, so she could humiliate herself publicly for her Master's

pleasure, whenever and wherever he commanded. Of course, all of this was

exactly what I wanted to hear, not to make me feel powerful, but to

break down all of her barriers. I knew that when she ran out of

bullshit, the good stuff would follow. I meant it when I told her that I

would tear down all of the walls between us.

Soon her half hour was up. She seemed surprised that it had ended so

soon. I told her to return to the warmup pace for 5 minutes of cool

down, and that she could stop talking if she wanted to. She didn't want

to. I listened as before, except twice I had to tell her to slow down,

she kept trying to get back to her exercise pace. She kept talking until

I interrupted to tell her the 5 minutes had passed. I had her stop,

dismount, and repeat her stretches. While she did that I told her that

she would work her way up to 45 minutes of hard exercise in a couple of

steps, and that she would always be talking during that whole time.

I asked her how it made her feel to talk nonstop for 30 minutes, and she

answered formally that it was hard to do that, but she now felt closer

to her Master than ever, that she wanted to be totally open to her

Master - she used the word "transparent" - and that she was looking

forward to doing it again. I disconnected her leash from the trainer,

then led her the length of the room, back and forth, 3 times to further

cool down. Occasionally, I would pat her on the head or scratch behind

her ear and say, "Good girl," or "You're such a good dog." I wanted to

see if that annoyed her. In fact, she gave me a big grin every time -

not like a good dog, but like she was sharing the joke. That was the

response I wanted to see.

I led her to the weight bench, and attached her long leash to the rear

of the bench, as far as possible from any moving parts. She stood by and

watched while I showed her everything I wanted her to do. One at a time,

I configured the bench for biceps curl, triceps extension, leg

extension, and leg curl. I told her the initial goal was to put some

meat on her thighs and upper arms, because both had become a little bony

since when she lost weight. She looked at herself in the mirror, and

nodded her head to indicate she agreed with my assessment. I quickly

pointed out to her that she had made herself even more beautiful than

she was when we first met, which I would not have thought possible, but

now she needed a few tweaks. I looked at her and she gave me a big grin.

I didn't want to do anything to make her doubt her beauty, first because

it was beyond denying, and second because I didn't want to give her any

more things to fret over.

I explained to her about sets and reps, showed her how to set the

weight, and told her to start with 10 pounds for the arm exercise, and

20 pounds for the leg exercises, and do 2 sets of 10 reps each. If she

felt any pain, even the slightest, she was to stop and tell me. Then I

got up and told her to do it. I silently watched her, only offering

advice or corrections to her form a few times. When she was finished I

told her to tell me in informal speech what she thought. She said that

it felt really good, but that she felt she could have used more weight.

I told her that the most important thing about weights is to move up

slowly, and never sacrifice form to lift heavier weight. I told her that

until I was sure she knew how to judge for herself, she would do this

exactly as I directed. Finally, I told her that she would do the

elliptical exercises 3 times a week, every other day, and do the weights

on the days she didn't do the elliptical. Sundays she wouldn't do either.

After removing her sneakers and socks, I told her to get off the bench,

attached her wrists together behind her back, disconnected her leash,

patted her on the head again, and said, "You're off the leash, girl, get

your pretty ass over to the bars. I need it for something." She laughed,

and covered the short distance to the bars in a few seconds. When she

got there, she positioned herself to facilitate her attachment and then

assumed the Waiting Pose. I walked over and attached her in the position

she remembered. Then I strolled down to the punishment area and selected

the lightest flog she had. I walked back, dropped the flog on the floor

by her feet, and stood behind her, caressing her ass and the back of her

thighs. She didn't need to be told to keep her head up, she was looking

at me with a big smile, but I felt a slight tremble in her body.

I told her, "Before we begin, I'm going to ask you to tell me whether

you would prefer to be flogged before you're fucked, or whether you

would prefer not to be flogged. When I give you permission to answer,

you will tell me, to the best of your ability, your true preference and

your reason for having that preference. If you want to be flogged

because you still feel you need to be punished for surviving when your

family died, say so. If you don't want to be flogged because it will

interfere with the pleasure you feel while being fucked, say so. If you

think you have a preference, but you honestly don't know why, say so.

Whatever is in your mind, I want you to say it. I'm not promising to

give you your preference, and I'm not promising to deny you your

preference. But I do promise that I will carefully evaluate your

preference and your stated reason in making my decision. Now I'm going

to go take a piss, and you will give me your answer when I return, when

I tell you to. Nod your head if you understand what I require from you."

She nodded her head.

I went to take a leak. When I came out of the Master's toilet, I could

see that she still had her head up and was watching me in the mirror. I

went to the refrigerator, and poured a glass of cold water. I turned

around facing her, and watched her while I drank. I said, "Would the

Slave like some water?" She nodded her head, so I refilled the glass and

returned to her. I held the glass up to her mouth, saying while she

drank. "It will be a rare event when the Slave gets to drink like this

in here." When she had all she wanted, I took the glass away from her

mouth. She tilted her head back as far as it would go, looked up into my

eyes, and silently mouthed, "Thank you." I remembered the last time she

had done that. I put the glass on the floor then I bent down and gave

her a long, passionate kiss on the lips, which she greedily returned.

I walked around behind her again, picked up the flog and showed it to

her in the mirror. Now she was really trembling. I said, "Slave, state

your preference and your reason, now." Without hesitation she said,

"Master, this Slave wants its Master to flog it and then fuck its ass,

and then hold it while it cries, because the Slave wants to relive what

was happening to it when it fell in love with its Master, Master." I

expected that answer, she would always choose the hard road for herself

if I let her. But given a thousand years, I would not have guessed her

reason. After a moment I said, "Slave, I believe you," and struck. As I

was flogging her, I reminded her that she was to look only at her own

face, not at me, until we were finished. It didn't take long for the

tears to start flowing, but her face remained unchanged otherwise, you

wouldn't be able to tell she was in pain without the tears.

Soon her breathing became fast, short gasps, but her face was still

stoic. She was trying to hold it all in until she was in my arms. When I

saw the uniform blush I wanted on her ass and thighs, I put the flog

down, quickly lubricated my erect cock, and plunged it into her ass. Her

mouth opened, farther than her usual lips-apart position, and she

gasped. Slowly a smile spread over her face. As I got into the rhythm of

pounding her ass, she had a huge orgasm. Jeez, I thought, we're just

getting started, pace yourself, woman. The short version of the story

is, for over ten minutes she had one orgasm after another. I saw no

reason to take it slow, she was getting as much as she could get from

this, whether I strung it out or finished quickly. I let myself cum,

then while my cock was still in her ass, I leaned over her, laid my head

on her back, cupped her breasts in my hands, and said, "God, I love you.

You're going to kill me with sex." She came again while I was still bent

over her. I looked in the mirror and she was looking into my eyes, her

face again expressionless. But she was obviously close to exhaustion, I

could see it in her eyes and the softening of her features.

I pulled out and quickly wiped us off, then removed her from the bars

and put my arms around her. This time I was smart enough to leave her

wrists free, and she put her arms around me and squeezed me hard, then

the dam burst. She cried so hard she was having trouble breathing.

Whenever she could get enough breath to do it, she would say "I love

you," over and over. Well, screw the formal speech, this was a moment.

Finally her legs buckled, she was too tired to stand up any longer. I

scooped her up in my arms and carried her the short distance to the

couch. This couch had enough room to do it, so I laid her down at the

back of the cushions and stretched out beside her, pressing my body

against her. She was still crying hard and saying she loved me, and I

just held her and caressed her, and told her I loved her, too.

We lay there for at least a half hour. By then she had calmed down, and

the tears were almost gone. She rolled up on top of me and I scooted

farther onto the couch to make sure I didn't fall off and take her with

me. I couldn't believe it, but I got another erection, I reached down

and guided it into her pussy. She smiled and said something like

"Ahhhhh." We laid there unmoving for a few minutes, and my erection

remained. She started pumping her hips, then sat up straddling me, and

started seriously fucking me. I lay there and let her take control. She

rode me until I came, then dismounted and sucked my cock until I came

again, and she still wasn't done, she was trying to get me hard again

and starting to succeed. I finally told her to stop, I couldn't do this

anymore right now. She grinned, I was sure she would have given me some

smart ass comment about not being able to keep up with an inexperienced

older woman if we had been upstairs.

When I felt like I could stand up, I got off the couch and pulled her up

with me. I reattached her wrists behind her back and led her to the

exit. She obviously wanted to tell me something before we left, so I

commanded her to speak. She said that she had been promised a cold

shower. I told her that she was oversexed, she needed lots of cold

showers, but she had wasted her shower time trying to give me a heart

attack on the couch. Now what she was going to get was a soak in the

whirlpool bath with her Master. She laughed, and ran through the door

when I opened it. I had to yell at her not to run up the stairs with her

hands locked behind her back. I told her if she fell and knocked out her

front teeth, she would be too ugly for me, and then I would have to find

another slave.

When we were in the mural room, I removed her bonds and told her to go

fill the tub with the hottest water she could stand, then get in. Then

it occurred to me that with instructions like that, she would probably

give herself third degree burns trying to please me, so I changed the

command and told her to fill the tub with the hottest water she thought

her Master, whose dick had been rubbed raw by his nympho sex slave,

would find comfortable. That got me a big smile, and I handed her the

blouse and heels and told her to take them with her. Either she just

noticed, or she had seen it before but couldn't speak at the time, but

she wanted to know what the pager on the side of my belt was for. I told

her that Philip had given it to me, in case he needed to contact us

while we were out walking this afternoon. She said she was glad Philip

and I were on the job together now. I saw then that she knew exactly

what was going on here, she probably knew about the weapons, too. It

would always be a mistake to assume she didn't understand what was

happening around her.

I told her to get to the bathroom, and that if she had to use the toilet

she would wait until I was present. Then I wandered off to find Philip.

I told him we would be ready for lunch in about an hour, and asked him

to lay out cold plates and iced tea in the dining room, whatever food he

chose would be fine. He said it would be there in an hour. As I was

leaving, I told him I was sure Carrie knew more than he suspected, and

that we should consider leveling with her. I then went to join her in

the bath. On the way through the bedroom, I verified that he had moved

the gun.