I poured a glass of cold water, then put a pillow under head and slowly

fed her the water. After half a glass, she indicated that was enough, so

I finished the glass. I asked her if she really wanted to sleep down

here tonight, wouldn't she prefer the comfortable bed upstairs? She said

she really wanted to spend a night in her Slave bed, but it was Ok with

her if I left her there and went upstairs for the night. I told her that

would never happen. Where she was, I was.

I told her that it was a mistake to put her in the machine, that she

would never be subjected to that again. She told me not to say never,

that there might come a day when both of us would want to see her in the

machine again. I asked her what could possibly make that happen. She

said she didn't know, but neither of us could rule it out. I didn't

understand where she was coming from, but it seemed like she wanted the

machine to remain available, so I decided to just forget about it and

ignore it.

I asked her if she would like to sit up and share a glass of wine with

me, and she said that would be very nice. I let her keep the blanket

over her body, with just her arms and head uncovered. I poured the wine

and offered her the first sip. I asked her how she could let herself be

subjected to that machine, that if I already knew what it felt like, I

was sure I wouldn't go in it again without being forced to. She said she

didn't want to sound too dramatic, but that she would go through fire

for me, only she would ask first if they couldn't make it hotter. I told

her that was noble, but not very smart. I said that there was no doubt

her Master would cause her pain at times, sometimes for a reason, and

sometimes accidentally or out of stupidity. But her Master would never

cause her pain on purpose for no reason, and would never ever do

anything to her that he thought would harm her. I told her that I was

feeling a lot of guilt for asking her to endure the severe shock in the

machine, because it might well have harmed her, and because there wasn't

a good reason to do it. I told her I was sorry I did it, and I would try

my best not to do anything that foolish again.

"Master, your Slave had a reason for enduring the shock. I did it for

you. I did it, not to prove my love, Master must by now accept that I

love him without needing proof, but to demonstrate my love. I feel a

constant need, a drive, to demonstrate a love that I feel so strongly.

That is also a partial explanation for my insatiable sexual appetite,

that and the fact that I have discovered the most fun thing in the

universe in my late twenties, and I'm trying to make up for lost time

with the one person in the world I value above all other things. The

Slave thanks her Master for allowing the trials to go on long enough for

the Slave to make that demonstration of love."

We were both quiet for awhile after that. She had said her piece, and I

didn't know how to express my reaction to it. Finally she asked me what

was on the agenda for tomorrow. I said that after breakfast she would

have another workout on the elliptical trainer. Then I asked her if she

remembered her last night in the organization's training room, where she

modeled some of the harnesses and other slave wear? She said she did,

and I asked if she had equipped this training room with stuff like that.

She said that there were only two drawers full of that type of

equipment. I said that I refused to be surprised any more by the

planning she put into this room, and that after exercise she would put

on a little Slave fashion show for me.

She asked if we would go on another walk after lunch. I told her I had a

tentative plan that involved she and I, fully clothed, strolling down

the driveway, introducing me to Philip's wife, and having a friendly

visit. We would of course clear it with Philip first, and invite him

along on the walk if he wished to come. She said that would be

wonderful, that she hadn't seen Beverly for several weeks, that Beverly

and Philip were essentially Carrie's parents when she was a child,

because her real parents were away so much. I told her that if we did

this, it would be important not to offend Beverly by talking in details

about the nature of our relationship. We are just in love and living

together in her house. During our visit, I would be Bill and she would

be Carrie, no Master and Slave talk. I asked her if she thought we could

pull that off, and she said she thought so, but calling me Master was so

ingrained now that it would take constant vigilance. I looked at her

face and hands, and said that if she could learn to never put her lips

together, to always keep her hands open, and to always keep her stomach

muscles tight, she wouldn't have any trouble remembering to call me Bill

for a few hours. She asked what we would do if Beverly asked a specific

question. I said she could do what she thought best, but my plan would

be to tell her the truth if she asks. I would of course make sure Philip

knew that before he decided if we should see Beverly.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:05. I told her we would have

one more glass of wine, then put her to bed. She gave me another "Oh,

boy," then said she would like an enema and to use the toilet before

bed. I said Ok, and refilled the glass, and we quietly shared the wine

until the glass was empty.

I stood up and whipped the blanket away from her. I bent down and

grabbed her by both nipples, and asked in a sneering voice, "Does the

Slave need help rising from the couch?"

"Oh yes, my mighty Master, all the help this poor weak Slave can get." I

pulled gently on her nipples and she pushed herself off the couch with

her hands and stood up in one graceful move. "Cooperation is the key to

success," she said. I attached her hands behind her back and we walked

to the toilet area, side by side with my arm around her shoulders.

After the enema, toilet, and bidet, we walked back to the bed. I asked

her if she was sure this is what she wanted to do, and she said it was.

I asked her if she had an attachment for the bed that her ass could rest

on, to take the stress off of her spine and knees. She said she didn't

know there was supposed to be anything like that, she thought her ass

had to remain free in the bed. I told her that rule would have been

waived after the week of butt fucking was completed. She smiled and

said, "You devious bastards." I told her we would put her in the bed and

then see what I could find to help support her butt. After she was

installed, I asked her if she wanted her wrists attached at her sides or

pulled down toward toward the floor. She said pulled down, that made her

feel so deliciously helpless and vulnerable. I told her that was the

whole purpose, and stretched her arms out straight below her.

I went looking for an ass support. I took the little table the training

machine's monitor sat on, put two six-packs of diet cola side by side on

the table, then put a a chair cushion and a couple of pillows from the

couch on the cola, then slid the whole thing under her ass. She asked

what I was doing down there, and I asked her if she remembered the last

time I was messing around down here and she didn't know what I was up

to. She said Yes, she hated me for doing that to her. I asked her how

she felt about it now, and she said her pussy would always be naked for

me.

Getting back to the ass support, the whole thing was now about a half

inch away from touching her ass, so I just lowered the whole bed until I

could see that most of the weight of her ass was now resting on the

pillows. I asked her how that felt, and she said it was wonderful. I

tried tweaking some of the other adjustments, like the height of the

back support and the position of the calves, until we found the position

that felt best for her. When I thought we had done the best we could,

she asked me if it was Ok for fucking. I walked up until I was in

contact with her open crotch. I said she wouldn't believe it, but it's

great. I could keep my feet together and slide then between the legs of

the table, or open them up and put them on either side of the table, and

I had good access to both her pussy and her ass.

She said if I had such good access, what the hell was I waiting for, I

told her that there was just more thing to figure out. The

organization's training room could provide a toasty environment for the

Slave to sleep in without heating the whole room, we couldn't do that

here. Did she want the room heat turned up, or did she want a blanket

put over her. She asked if that wouldn't sort of spoil the effect of

having a Slave laid out here in this humiliating pose, available for

whatever evil tortures the Master chose to inflict on it, and then throw

a blanket over it? I said, "Well you got me on that one. Does that mean

you want the room heat turned up?" She said that would be nice, but not

to make it too hot for the Master. I said, "Don't get me wrong here,

Carrie, I'm not making fun of you, but wouldn't this be a good

opportunity to ask that the room be made colder, so you can suffer to

demonstrate your love for your Master?"

"It's simple, Master, I can't be a good fuck buddy for you on no sleep,

unless you like fucking cadavers. Now speaking - again - of fucking,

turn the fucking heat up and then get to fucking, unless you want to

hear me honk some more." I turned the thermostat up then walked up to

her head, and said, "Ok if we do some preliminary work up at this end

before heading back South?" I bent down and began passionately kissing

her mouth while caressing her breasts and rolling her nipples between my

finger and thumb. She couldn't move at all, the only response she could

make was with her lips and tongue, which were expressing themselves

pretty well. I came up for air once, and she said, while panting for

breath herself, "I'm so hungry for you, all the time, that it scares me.

Tell me we'll be like this always."

I said, "If you mean together and still deeply in love, then Yes, we'll

be like this always. If you mean in our twenties, able to fuck twenty

times a day and sleep in torture racks, think again, Sweetheart."

"Then don't you think you'd better get to it before we get any older?"

she said, smiling.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," I saluted and went to the other end. I buried my face

in her pussy and messed around in there awhile with my lips and tongue,

until I felt her come for the first time. Then went to work on her clit,

and as I was becoming accustomed to, she started having nearly

continuous orgasms. I let her continue like that for a few minutes, then

plunged my cock into her and began stroking. While continuing to pump my

hips, I bent over her, reached up to her breasts, and began stimulating

her nipples again. "Oh, God," she said, "I feel like there's a wire

between my nipples and my clit, what one feels the other feels, too.

God, this is wonderful, don't stop, please don't stop, Master. Master of

my body, my heart, my soul." She took a deep breath, then screamed as

loud as she could, "I love this man!"

"I heard you," I said, "but now I can't hear anything."

"Don't make me laugh, Master, I'm trying to go insane from pleasure. The

pleasure you give me, Master."

"I said that I was very close to coming, did she want me to slow down

and try to keep it going longer. "No, Master," she said, "move up here

and come in my mouth. Please."

I did, and I did. I was trying to readjust her headrest as I was coming,

so she could breathe with my balls on her face. She didn't even care,

she was greedily trying to suck my cock dry. When we separated, I moved

to her side, bent over and rested my head on her breasts, caressing her

face. Every time a finger would stray to her mouth, she would try to

catch it and suck on it.

When I had recovered some strength, I asked her where the dildoes were.

She asked if I was sure I wanted to do that, and I said I was. She told

me, and I walked over to the drawer and picked a relatively smooth one,

about the same size and length as the real thing. There was also some

lubricating jelly, and I grabbed that too. I greased up the dildo and

eased it into her ass. After I started hearing moans from the other end,

I tried bending over to see how hard it would be to tongue her clit

while pumping the dildo with one hand. It was a little clumsy, but

doable. I found I could also work on her breasts, one at a time, with my

last free hand, so I worked on her like that for awhile. As usual, the

orgasms started, but she must have been very tired by now, because she

was only having about one a minute. She was making guttural noises, if

you didn't know what was going on you wouldn't know if she was

expressing pleasure or pain. I counted ten orgasms, then one big one,

and she asked me to please stop. I stopped immediately and withdrew the

dildo.

I walked back up to her head and asked if she was all right. From far

away, she said that all right was a good way to put it, but

fan-fucking-tastic might be better. I laughed, and asked her if there

was anything she needed. She said all she needed was me, and I said she

already had that, did she need anything else, like water, or to go

upstairs and sleep in a real bed? She said she wanted to go to sleep

with the taste of me in her mouth, and that this was a real bed, her

Slave bed, where a Slave belongs. After a pause, she added "once in

awhile" and grinned. I made sure her headrest was slightly elevated to

help her sleep, and asked her if anything was too tight or needed

adjustment. She said no, I should go to bed, I looked like I was about

to collapse.

I staggered over to the Master's toilet and relieved myself. I wanted to

take a shower, but I decided it wouldn't be fair for me to enjoy a

shower while she was strapped onto that rack, I would wait until I could

shower with her. I came out, fell on the couch, and immediately went to

sleep.

I woke up when I heard her say "Master?" For an instant I didn't know

where I was or where she was, then I remembered. I sat up and looked at

the clock, which read 7:15. Holy shit, I slept all night. I ran over to

her, and asked if she was Ok. She said she was fine, she didn't wake up

once during the night, the ass support was wonderful. I apologized, told

her that I had set the alarm to wake me up up 15 times during the night

so I could fuck her each time, but the alarm didn't go off. She smiled,

then said that we were doing too much, it was wearing us out. I said

that in spite of my "stupid episode" yesterday, I wanted her to set the

pace as long as I could keep up, and we would work it out together.

"Yes, we will. We'll work out everything together." she said.

I warned her that I was removing the support for her ass, then raised

the bed until her ass was off of the cushions. I slid the makeshift

platform out of the way, then rotated the bed up and extracted her. She

looked at the platform, and said "Diet soda? I slept on diet fucking

soda?"

"Yes, and I recall someone saying she got a good night's sleep."

"That's right, I did. Good old diet soda."

"Formal speech, Slave," I said, and she immediately snapped into the

Waiting Pose. I attached her wrists behind her back, went and rounded up

the wine bottle and glass and the piss-soaked towel, then told her to go

to the door. I set everything down in the mural room and removed her

bonds. I told her to wait for me in the bathroom while I ordered

breakfast. She said she wanted something different today, to order two

of whatever I wanted. I went to find Philip, and put in our request for

breakfast. I asked him to put it in the dining room today, and that

Carrie had something to ask him about after we were cleaned up. I also

told him that Carrie knew all about the guns, including the ones in the

office, and I swore with my hand raised that I didn't tell her. I added

that she deserves to be included in the planning, not excluded, and that

I wished he would consider that. He said he would, was that what Carrie

wanted to talk to him about? I said no, it was something else, she had

decided not to mention the guns to him for the same reason he had

decided not to mention them to her, to keep him from worrying.

I joined her in the bathroom, and we watched each other on the commode

then soaped and rinsed each other in the shower. Again we had to

struggle to avoid another round of fucking.

We walked into the dining room, me fully dressed and Carrie in her wide

open blouse and high heels. Food was on the table, and Philip was

standing at the side of the room waiting for her to tell him what she

wanted. I knew it bothered him to see her dressed like that or

altogether naked, but it couldn't be helped. I pulled back a chair for

her and waited for her to sit down. This was the first time she had to

bare her ass to sit in front of anyone but me, and she froze. I said,

"Don't wrinkle your blouse, Carrie." She blushed, pulled the tail of the

blouse up, and sat. I scooted her in, then took a seat myself.

I quickly got to the point, to move her past her embarrassment. I said,

"Carrie, I told Philip you wanted to speak to him about the walk you

suggested last night. Would you fill him in on our plans, please?

Philip, please take a seat." I indicate the chair across the table from

Carrie. He thanked me and sat down.

She told him what we wanted to do, how we had planned to dress and

behave, and that our story would be that we were in love and living

together in this house, which is true. He raised his eyebrows and looked

at me when she said we would just be Bill and Carrie, not Master and

Slave. I just smiled at him. She added that we had discussed what we

should do if Beverly became suspicious and started asking direct

questions. She said that the Master intended to reply truthfully to any

questions, and that she would also like to do that, but wasn't sure it

was the best thing to do. She also told him that we would welcome his

company as well, and that we would not go at all if he disapproved of

the plan. He asked when we planned to go, and she said we were hoping to

do it today after lunch. She looked to me for confirmation of this, and

I agreed with her.

Philip said he thought that was a fine idea, and that he would be

pleased to go with us. He said he would like to call his wife and give

her some warning if that was Ok, and we said by all means. So we made a

date for 1:00 PM. While Philip was still present, I told Carrie that she

should go and pick out a nice conservative skirt and blouse and

comfortable shoes right after breakfast, and she said she would. We

thanked Philip, and began devouring breakfast.

After breakfast we went to the bedroom. I took off her blouse, then told

her to pick out some candidate outfits for this afternoon's visit, and

then she would model them for me. She took her time inspecting

everything. She still had a lot of blouses and skirts to choose from, so

it took her a while. Finally she had laid out four skirts, six blouses,

and two pair of low-heeled shoes. I told her the shoes were easy,

because I liked one pair and hated the other. She threw the ones I hated

to the back of the closet.

I had her put on the selected shoes, then pick one of the skirts. She

put it on, and then I told her to model the blouses she thought would go

with it. The first skirt had only one blouse she would want to wear with

it. She put it on and walked around the room for my inspection. After

seeing it from every angle, I said "No." She removed both and put them

back in the closet. The next skirt had two possible blouses. I said

"No." to the first one, and "Maybe" to the second. The rejected blouse

went back in the closet, the possible pair went to the other side of the

bed. This kept going until there were were two blouse-skirt

possibilities on the maybe side of the bed, and everything else was back

in the closet. I had her model each possible pair again, twice. Finally

I picked one, and the other one went back in the closet, but she kept

them together to indicate that I didn't hate them. She was standing

there wearing the winners, and I asked her how I did. She shrugged and

said, "Yeah, this was what I wanted to wear all along. Glad you figured

it out." I told her to take everything off and put it on hangers, then

put her house blouse and high heels back on, and take the selected

clothes and shoes to the outside transition area, ready to put on this

afternoon. Then come to the mural room.

I was waiting for her in the mural room. As I was putting on her bonds,

I said that I had told Philip that she knew about the weapons. She

couldn't speak now, but I knew she would have questions when we returned

here from downstairs. I led her down the stairs and into the training

room. I asked her if she wanted water or to use the toilet before we

started, she shook her head No. We went to the weight bench, she sat and

put on her shoes and socks while I attached the leash to her collar. I

took her to the elliptical, and said "Slave, tell your Master what the

Slave is going to do here today, now."

She replied, "Master, the Slave is going to do 5 minutes of warmup, then

dismount the elliptical trainer and do the stretching exercises the

Slave has been shown, then the Slave is going to remount the elliptical

trainer and exercise for 35 minutes during which the Slave will talk

continuously to the Master and implement any changes in pace the Master

commands, then the Slave will do 5 minutes of cool down, then dismount

the elliptical trainer and repeat the stretching exercises, Master."

I laughed. It was all one sentence, and she had said it in one breath,

and it was exactly right. She even picked up on the 5-minute increase in

exercise time from the previous day. "Slave, you make your Master

proud," I said. "Let's start." I attached her leash to the back of the

trainer as she mounted it. I went around to the front and sat on the

floor looking up at her. She could do the whole thing on autopilot, all

I had to do was listen to her. I timed her anyway, in case she got

carried away.

I called out at the 5-minute mark, and she stopped, climbed off, and did

the stretching exercises to perfection. Then she climbed on again and

started working her ass off, and began talking nonstop. Again she spent

some time on trivia, but sooner that yesterday she got to the serious

stuff.

She began with the progress she thought she was making in her grieving

process over her husband and son. She said she was remembering events

from their time together, and that it felt like she was being cleansed

of the pain as the memories flooded back. She said that was why she

blurted out the "I'm so horny I could honk" phrase yesterday afternoon,

it just popped into her mind and she said it before she even remembered

where it came from. She said that both happy and painful memories were

coming back - she gave me many examples of both - and each one was like

an opportunity to let go and say goodbye. I was so fascinated, I hated

to say anything. But she was getting winded, so I told her gently to

slow down a little. She nodded and continued talking.

She shifted gears and began talking about her memories of Philip and

Beverly from when she was a little girl. She told me how kind and loving

they were to her, and how safe she felt with them. She said she knew

that there were very unpleasant things that Philip had done in her

father's service (she referred to him as her "real" father, but it was

clear that as far as love- and caregiving were concerned, Philip was her

real father), but she always thought of Philip as someone who could do

no wrong. She said it was important to her that nothing happen this

afternoon to change Beverly's opinion of her. She accepted that it was

necessary to ("contaminate" was the word she use here) Philip's

opinions, because Philip was always in the house and it was up to the

Master to decide how the Slave would behave and dress in the house. I

again broke my own rule at this point, to reassure her that I would do

everything possible, perhaps even lie to Beverly if I had to, to protect

Beverly's memories of Carrie.

She finally got around to us. She said I had scared her yesterday at

fucking site 1. She said that at first it seemed I was turning on her,

and she couldn't understand why I would do that, and she was afraid I

was getting ready to dump her. Then she saw that my feeling of

inadequacy and my fear of sexual failure were behind it all, and she

knew she had to make it right, that she would not allow our relationship

to be destroyed by male sexual hang-ups. She said that there was no one

with more sexual hang-ups than her, and she had put them all behind her.

She knew that her Master could do the same, and she would not allow him

to fail in this regard. I said, "Ouch, but every point is valid, keep

going."

She said she was proud to endure the shocks of the training machine for

her Master last night. She wished they had left marks on her body, that

she could wear as testaments to her love for and commitment to her

Master. She said that the love, devotion, and attention her Master

showed her last night after she left the training machine, while

installing her in her bed, and during their love making, touched her to

the core of her being and would never be forgotten.

I hated to interrupt her, but I told her the 35 minutes were up, slow to

the cool down speed. She slowed down, but kept talking. She told me how

it felt this morning to bare her ass in Philip's presence. She said she

knew it was irrational, that her whole front, boobs to pussy, were out

there to see, but pulling the tail of her blouse up and baring her ass

with him present was the hardest thing she had ever done. Now she knew

she had to do it in public, in front of strangers, but preferably in

front of people who knew and respected her. I made a mental note that

this would always have the "but" attached to it, "but not in front of

Beverly."

Then she blew my mind. She said that maybe we could rent out Carnegie

Hall some day, and fill it with society people. The curtain would go up,

she would walk out on the stage, and everyone would recognize her as one

of elite among them, and they would applaud. She would bow, then pull up

a tight dress to bare her ass, and sit on a cold metal park bench. Then,

when she had warmed the park bench with her ass, she would stand up,

smooth her dress, walk to a cold marble slab, raise her dress and sit

again. When she had warmed the marble slab, she would stand and smooth

her dress again, then move to a block of ice, raise her dress, and sit

again. When the block of ice was all melted, her Master would come out

on the stage and announce that he was not one of them, and that he

despised them all. He would say it was he this woman had just suffered

and humiliated herself for. Then he would tear her clothes off,

revealing the body she kept in exquisite form for him alone. He would

whip her all over, bend her over the park bench, and fuck her until she

passed out. Everyone would applaud, then go home to resume their empty

lives, knowing that her life was filled with devotion to her Master. She

said she would die for the chance to do that for her Master.

I didn't hear anything she said after that. I don't know what I was

doing during the interval, but I was somewhere else. When I returned to

the here and now, she had been doing cool down for 9 minutes and was

still talking. I told her time was up, to get off and do her stretches.

While she was doing stretches, I asked her where the Carnegie hall

imagery came from, if it was something she had been thinking about. She

said No, it just came into her mind while she was talking, but it wasn't

an exaggeration of the extremes she would welcome the opportunity to go

to for her Master.

I said it was a scary prospect to me, that anyone would think of doing

something that public to show her submission to me. She said she wasn't

"anyone," and there was no limit to her submission to me, and she

welcomed any opportunity her Master would provide for her to show it. I

was really feeling a sense of dread now, and I said her Master was

ordering her not to do anything on her own to prove her submission to

me, that she was making me worry that she might accidentally harm

herself trying to prove something that I did not need proof of. I told

her that there was nothing more important to her Master than the

partnership that was being forged between the Master and the Slave. I

said that her enslavement and her submission and our love for one

another were the foundation of that partnership, and that they were

beyond question by the Master, and did not require demonstration by the

Slave. I asked her if that was clear to her, and she said that she had

not intended to scare or worry her Master, that she had no intention of

harming herself to prove a point to the Master, and she apologized for

getting carried away with her babbling. She had finished stretching, and

I thanked her for the reassurances and kissed her. But honestly, I was

worried.