I told her it was time to go upstairs. We would shower together, then

find some way to pass the time in the bedroom until nearly lunch. I

asked her if she wanted another picnic this afternoon. She said how

about another grand tour of all the "unrest areas," to use her phrase,

instead. I asked her if she wanted to wear her harness, and she said she

would rather Philip see her naked than see her in that. If it was Ok

with her Master, she would like to save the harness for the basement or

for weekends. I told her that was perfectly acceptable, her Master

didn't want to offend Philip any more than necessary. It looked like

Philip had more or less accepted her nakedness and her Slave status, we

should not push him farther than that for the present. I told her we

could take the nipple clips and weights, and put them on her after we

were out of sight of the house. She smiled and said that would be nice.

She asked if she could have the butt plug, too. I agreed.

She kissed me, then jumped up and assumed the Waiting Pose, in

anticipation of being told she was under formal speech. Not to

disappoint, I got up, clipped her wrists behind her back, kissed her,

and said, "Formal speech, let's go." With my hand caressing her ass, she

walked to the door. I unlocked the door, grabbed her kit, and followed

her up the stairs.

In the mural room, I took off her bonds. I told her to move her kit into

the bedroom, and handed her the nipple clips and weights. I told her to

put them with the plug in the bathroom, so we wouldn't forget them, and

wait for me there. I noticed by the bedroom clock that it was 10:45. I

went looking for Philip, and found him doing laundry. I told him we

would like a light lunch at noon, whatever he could easily fix. I said

we were taking another hike this afternoon, and not taking any beer with

us. He smiled.

Returning to the bathroom, I found Carrie as I knew I would, in the

Waiting Pose. I asked her if she would like another enema, and she said,

"Yes, no soap, please." I said Ok, just body temperature water. She

asked how she could choose that temperature without a thermometer. I

told her if it didn't feel warm or cold to her fingers, it was pretty

close to body temperature. She prepared the enema, handed it to me, and

assumed her Pose on the floor. Following our usual ritual, I slapped her

lightly on the ass when the tube was in, then started the flow.

I warned her before removing the tube, then told her she could do her

waiting in a sitting position today. She hopped up and sat down, and as

usual I knelt in front of her. Gripping her thighs lightly, I gave her a

long, deep kiss. I caressed her breasts for awhile, telling her how

beautiful she was, and how perfect her body was for me. She blushed and

said she was far from perfect. I told her that I never said she was

perfect, I said she was perfect for me, and that was the truth. She said

she felt so passionate about me that she was sometimes afraid she would

lose herself in me. I told her she must never let that happen, because

it was she that meant everything to me, not my reflection in her eyes.

To get away from such deep conversation, I asked her how she would like

it if someday we filled her with an enema, inserted the butt plug, and

then went for a hike. She turned bright red, and said she would hate it.

She said that it would be so humiliating to do that to her, and as she

was talking I could see that she changed her mind. "How long would the

hike last?" she asked.

"An hour, maybe two. Of course, I would fuck you a couple of times while

we were out. ... Not in the ass, naturally." She laughed. She said sure,

if I really wanted to do that, she was in. I told her I hoped she was

in, I had no intention of doing it alone. She laughed again, and asked

when we would do it. I told her I didn't know if we would ever do it, I

just wanted to know how she would feel about it. She said she guessed

she would agree to anything her Master wanted her to do, "such is his

power over me," to again quote her.

I told her she could let go now, and she did. I made her keep trying

gently to expel everything for a few minutes, then let her up and took

her place. When I was finished and we had both used the bidet, I had her

get the shower ready. As usual, we washed one another. I washed her

hair, then we rinsed off and dried one another. I combed out her hair,

then took her to the bedroom and blow dried and brushed it.

I told her that I wanted to put some lipstick on her, not much, very

subtle. She chose the right tube for the job, then spun around on her

bench for me. I knelt in front of her and did the best I could. I told

her to take a look, and she spun back around and looked at her lips for

a minute. "Not bad for your first time," she said. I told her she could

remove it if she didn't like the job I had done. She said No, it looked

fine, she would keep it on. I really couldn't tell if she meant it, or

she was just being nice, but I decided that either way was fine.

I told her it was still 25 minutes until lunch, and asked her what she

would like to do. She leered at me, and said she would like to ravage my

manly cock with her freshly painted lips. I told her I bet she couldn't

make me last 20 minutes without ever breaking contact. She said did that

mean she had to be in contact with my dick the whole time, and I said

Yes. She laughed and said of course she could, she could make me last

all day, but I would have to let her tie me down for that. She asked me

what the bet was, and I said loser carries the whole load on the hike,

coming and going. "Deal," she said, "Get on that bed, NOW."

"Yes, Mistress," I said as I dove for the bed and rolled onto my back.

"Hard and ready for you, Mistress." Of course she made me last, it was a

dumb bet. But when the 20 minutes were up, she was a bad winner. She

refused to finish me, saying I would have to wait until our first unrest

stop. I pleaded and begged, to no avail. As I was getting up to dress,

looking sullen and whipped, she put her hand on my chest, and kissed me.

She asked if I knew she was kidding, that she would bring me to orgasm

right now if I wished. I told her I knew she would, it was friendly

ribbing between lovers, her lover was happy to wait for his woman's

attentions.

I dressed her in her house blouse and heels, and we went to lunch. It

was a few minutes after 12.

Philip had lunch all ready for us. It looked a little more complex than

I had indicated we needed. I suspected he was doing penance for

deceiving Carrie. I seated her, watching that she pulled up the tail of

her blouse correctly, then sat across the corner of the table from her.

Before we dug in, I put my hand out, and she put her hand in mine. Our

eyes met, and I told her I loved her. She grinned and said, "Me too,

lets eat." We joked about my bedroom bet and made small talk as we ate.

She wanted to know why I would make such a stupid bet in the first

place, and I said I wanted to see if she would try at all, or just plant

a big 20-minute kiss on the side of my cock. Smiling, she said, "I

tried. I tried hard, you just couldn't rise to the occasion." I smiled

too, and said I was sure she was trying as hard as possible to lose the

bet, she was just so incompetent she couldn't figure out how to do it.

That made her laugh, and she said we were even on bad sex partner jokes

now, did we want to move on to the second round? I laughed too, and told

her we should take our winnings and stop at round 1.

Lunch was so plentiful that we left most of it uneaten. Now I was sure

Philip had been overcompensating, he never put out this much food for us

before. I asked Carrie if she wanted to digest awhile, or set out on our

walk. She said digest, so I got up and pulled out her chair as she rose.

I held out my hand, and said, "May I have a dance?"

"Why, I thought you'd never ask," she replied. I led her into the living

room and turned on the radio. I asked her if she wanted to keep her

heels on or take them off, and she said either way, what would her

Master prefer? I said first dance on, second dance off. when the news

break ended and the next song began, we danced. We danced through two

more songs, then took a break. I sprinted back into the dining room to

find Philip clearing the table. I snatched away our half full tea

glasses, and returned to Carrie.

"Champagne, Madame?" I asked, holding out the tea glass.

"Why, thank you, Monsieur. I'd love a taste." She chugged all the tea in

her glass, then handed the glass back to me and said, "Charming vintage."

"Shoes off, second dance," I said. She kicked them off, and we danced

some more. After about 15 minutes I told her we didn't need to go

walking today, I would be just as happy to dance with her all afternoon.

She said she would make a deal with me. If I would give her 2 hours of

dancing and conversation, she would give me 2 hours of great fucking.

I pulled her over to the couch and had her sit down. I sat beside her,

facing her, and took her hands in mine. I told her she didn't have to

make deals with me to get to do the things she wanted. We could dance

any time she wanted to, and she didn't have to pay me back with fucking.

I asked her if she had thought all along that she had to fuck me to get

to do other things besides fucking. And I asked her to tell me what

else, beside dancing, she had wanted to do, but wasn't getting to do.

Her eyes teared up, and she said that what she had said was stupid, she

didn't mean it to sound like she was trying to bargain with sex, and she

didn't mean it to sound like I was forcing her to have sex. I asked her

if she could explain what she was thinking when she said it. She was

quiet for a minute, then she told me she knew why she had said it, and

she might as well tell me the reason and get it over with.

She said that there was really only one thing she was not getting to do,

and it was not because of me. She wanted to leave the house. She wanted

to go out, to the city, to take in the nightlife, to be seen with her

Master and be displayed by him for others to admire. She said she was

always having fantasies of how her Master could display her or humiliate

her in front of others for his own pleasure or amusement. She had talked

of this before, during one of her workouts, and now she started telling

me about more of the fantasies. Some were scary, but others were cute or

humorous.

In one of her fantasies, she was in a high-class bar in an upscale

hotel, sitting alone at a table. The room was full of obviously

well-to-do, young, stag males. One by one, they all tried to pick her

up, or buy her a drink, or sit at her table, and she told them all to

take a hike. Finally, when they had all been rejected, I walked through

the room in a pair of jeans and a torn t-shirt. I paused at her table

just long enough to ask her, in a voice loud enough for everyone to

hear, if she wanted to blow me in the parking lot. She immediately got

up and followed me out. I recognized that immediately as her Carnegie

Hall fantasy, scaled down slightly.

After hearing her out, I wasn't sure what to tell her. I first asked her

if she knew why leaving her property was a bad idea. She said of course

she did, that was the problem. It wasn't like she was being held here,

she knew she should stay for her own good. But that didn't make it any

easier.

She said that, before they brought me here, she was always busy

overseeing the remodeling, or the construction and furnishing of the

basement, or a million-and-one other things. Only at night was she idle,

and then she was a victim of her terror.

When I arrived, her focus became the all-consuming desire to be my

perfect Slave. She said that is still her focus, but she sees that there

is a bigger world than this small property and this smaller house, where

she can demonstrate to everyone, not just her Master, the depth and

intensity of her devotion and love for him and her desire to be his

perfect Slave. She said she is driven to demonstrate her love for me.

It's too intense for her to keep it bottled up inside, she has to show

other people how she feels.

I told her that showing her off in public, the way she was fantasizing,

was a perfect way to get me shot, and her beaten up and raped. I didn't

foresee us doing much of what she was thinking about. As far as taking

her out for a night on the town, as just Bill and Carrie, for dinner and

dancing or a show, that's something I would love to do. I told her I

wouldn't have to publicly humiliate her, that having her on my arm,

looking like she did for either of her meetings with Bill, would turn

every man we met green with envy. But I just thought it was too risky to

consider doing it as long as we had the organization to worry about.

I said we should go right now and talk to Philip, and ask him to come up

with some plan or method that would allow us to get away. Hell, with her

money, we could hire bodyguards, charter a plane, and go somewhere far

away, perhaps for long enough for her to get this out of her system. She

said that was worth considering, but she and I should talk about it more

later, and try to come up with a specific scenario to present to Philip,

and see if it was practical to do it.

Ok, I said, we would keep talking about the problem until we solved it.

But for right now, today, short of crashing through the gate in front of

Philip's house and driving to the city, which I was not up for, what did

she want to do? She looked into my eyes, and said she wanted to dance

with me, and talk to me, and laugh with me, and cry with me, and make

long, passionate love with me, in any order that it happened to turn

out. I asked her if she would like some wine. She said she would love it.

I went to get a bottle of wine and some glasses. Philip was in the

kitchen, and I told him we wouldn't be taking a walk today. He asked me

if there was a problem, and I said Yes, Carrie was having a case of

cabin fever. She wanted her Master to take her out on the town and show

her off. "You can't do that, Sir!" he immediately said. I told him I

would be happy to stay here with her forever, and never set foot off the

property. But if she wanted to get out for awhile, and if there was a

way to allow it and ensure her safety, we should let her. I told Philip

he should get behind us on this, and work with us. Because if I couldn't

change her mind, I was going to find a way for her to do what she

wanted, and his advice would be valuable.

Returning to Carrie with the wine and glasses, I poured a glass for each

of us, and waited for her to take a sip. I told her again that we would

keep talking about how to get away for awhile, but she had to understand

that it wouldn't happen today, or this week, or probably for many weeks.

Her Master did not want this unsatisfied longing on her part to keep

darkening his Slave's mood, so she needed to get her mind right about

this issue, trust that her Master would find a way to solve the problem,

and stop dwelling on it in the meantime. Did she think she could do

that? She said she could, and would.

I said there was one other issue we had to discuss now, and then we

could enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I told her that sex had not been

an issue for me when I was telling her we didn't have to go walking

today. In fact, I assumed I was foregoing sexual activity when I offered

to dance all afternoon with her. It hurt me deeply then, when she

offered to trade me sex for the dancing I had already said we would do

if she wished it. She had to understand that if sex was my goal, I would

simply push her into the bedroom, or throw her on the floor, or bend her

over a chair and fuck her, as was my right. Maybe she was thinking one

thing and said something else, I didn't know. But I never wanted to hear

her try to bargain sex with me again. If she wanted something, all she

had to do was clearly state what she wanted, and the odds were very

high, if it was within her Master's power, she would get it. Did she

understand?

She had tears in her eyes. She said she knew she was out of line, she

didn't say what she really wanted, and she regretted the poorly

thought-out words she used. She knew that sex was the Master's right

whenever he wanted it, and is not a bargaining tool. She couldn't

explain her choice of words, but she regretted them, she apologized, and

she promised to never say anything like that again.

I said the offense was forgotten, and it was my wish that we could both

be happy and enjoy being together, whatever we were doing. I said that

dancing and conversation sounded like something I would enjoy doing this

afternoon, and there was no one I would enjoy doing it with more than

her. She said she felt the same way, and that she was going to try

harder to communicate with her Master and avoid future unnecessary

misunderstanding and conflict between us.

I asked her if she had a pullover sweater that was long enough to cover

her ass while she had her arms around her Master's neck. She looked

puzzled, but said yes, she did. It was in the discard pile. She never

wore it anyway, because it was too long. I told her we should have a

look, and we went to the guest bedroom. She showed me the sweater. I

took off her blouse and had her put it on. I asked her if it was too

heavy for her to wear in the house. She said No, it wouldn't be too hot

unless she was really exerting herself. I took her to the full length

mirror, positioned her with her back to the mirror, and had her put her

arms around my neck. Her ass was still covered, barely.

I led her to our bathroom. I asked her how she would like to wear her

nipple clips and weights, and her butt plug, while we were dancing and

talking the afternoon away. She smiled at me, and said "Master, you

devil." I had her hold the sweater up in front while I attached the

nipple clips and tightened both of them. Then I attached the weights. I

nodded at her and she dropped the sweater, then went and leaned over the

tub without being told. I greased up the plug and slipped it into her

ass, then wiped off the excess lubricant. She straightened up and spun

around with her arms out from her sides.

"May I have the next dance?" I asked. She took my hand and led me back

into the living room. A good dance song had just started. I kicked off

my shoes and we began to dance. We talked almost continuously while we

danced. The first thing she told me was that she was trying to make a

joke when she offered to trade sex for dancing, it just didn't come out

right, and she was very sorry she hurt me. I looked at her and said that

I knew she loved me, and I loved her, and there was no problem we

couldn't solve together if each of us made the other understand what was

needed. I told her we would be Ok, and if there was any way to get her

out of here for some R and R, I would find a way to do it. But she had

to understand that, if there was no way to safely do it, then our life

here would have to go on, and she would have to find a way to accept

that situation. She said she would find a way to set her mind right

about it. She knew her Master would work the problem until it was

solved, or until it was shown that no solution existed, and she would

trust that process. She kissed me and told me she loved me, and she was

my Slave, my lover, and my woman forever.

After perhaps 10 minutes of dancing, I asked her how the weights and the

plug felt. She said, "Delicious, sexy, wonderful. I think constantly of

my Master inside my ass and my Master stimulating my nipples, and my

enslavement to my Master is reinforced with each swing of the weights

and each sensation in my ass. Master, I'm sorry I'm always complaining

about something or other. It's not fair to you. You are so giving and

caring and concerned for your Slave's happiness, and in turn I'm

constantly bitching at you about some insignificant, trivial, bullshit.

I don't like the way I'm acting, how can I change it? I know if you were

the harsh Master I deserve, you would have whipped this out of me by

now, or would simply forbid me to ever speak. I want to change for you,

tell me how, tell me how to be the kind of Slave you deserve."

I thought of several things I could say in response. Finally I told her,

"Talking is the answer to everything. You are the Slave I want, my

beautiful, smart, sexy, Carrie. I accept you as you are. You don't need

to be fixed, you just need to be loved. I only want to love you as you

deserve, and together we can solve your problems and my problems, and we

will stay together and grow together and love together.

She reached up and kissed me, then said she thought we should adjourn to

the bedroom for awhile, then perhaps dance some more. I grabbed the wine

bottle and my glass. She picked up her glass, then led me by the hand

into the bedroom. As soon as I had closed the bedroom door, she pulled

off her sweater. She told me she didn't like it when her body was hidden

from me, it seemed natural to her now to be naked before her Master. I

told her that was what I preferred, also, but I could remember for a few

hours at a time what a luscious, sexy, desirable body she had.

Standing in front of her, I ran my hands over her body, enjoying the

feel of her smooth skin and her response to my touch. She began moaning

softly and swaying to cause her weights to swing. She said she loved her

Master's touch on her body. She said she had treated me cruelly as a

joke before lunch, when she wouldn't give me an orgasm. She said that

was something else any Master but me would have whipped her for. She

wanted to make it up to me now, and asked me to please lead her to the

bed.

We went to the bed, then she kissed me tenderly and asked me to please

lie down on my back. I asked her if she wanted me to remove her weights,

since they would pull cruelly on her nipples when she was leaning over.

She said no, she was due a little cruelty this afternoon.

I lay down on my back, and she crawled onto the bed and positioned

herself between my legs. With an evil grin, she said, "Just relax,

Master, I promise this won't hurt a bit." She gave me a long, slow,

amazing blow job. She held me just short of an orgasm for over half an

hour. I told her several times she was making me crazy. Once she smiled

and said, "Welcome to the club, Master, you've been making me crazy all

afternoon with your 'little Masters' on my tits and up my ass. Try to

hold out, Master, I promise it will be worth your while." She didn't

lie. When she finally let me cum, I thought my cock would never stop

pumping. It was like I hadn't had sex for a month, as opposed to the

reality of being drained dry by my insatiable Slave every day for a

week. She caught it all, and licked the plate clean. After tenderly

kissing my cock and balls, she looked up and asked, "How was it?"

"Who taught you to do all of those things?" I asked. "I know it wasn't

me, because I've never experienced half of what you just did to me."

She blushed. "Master, I'm self taught. These lips have never touched any

cock but yours. ... That's not counting two cock-shaped water fountains

I've had some fun times with, Master." We both laughed. I said I doubt

she had learned much from them. "Their output is kind of tasteless, too.

I prefer the output from my Master. Very tasty," she said, licking her

lips. She paused, and looked at me for a few seconds. "Master, I want to

ask you something, but I'm afraid of what your answer might be." I told

her she must never be afraid to say or ask anything. Taking a deep

breath, she asked, "Master, would you ever pee in your Slave's mouth?"

I asked her why she would think that might happen. She said it had

occurred to her that a Master who wanted to humiliate and punish his

Slave might think of doing that. I told her that was true, some men did

that to women to humiliate them, and some women actually wanted it done

to them; and to add to the variety, sometimes the woman did it to the

man. I asked her if she had thought what the next logical progression

would be after a man had pissed in his woman's mouth. She thought for a

few seconds, and got a disgusted look on her face. "Oh, Master, that's

awful. Could anyone actually do that to another person?" I told her they

could, and they do. I knew she now needed her original question answered.

She was still kneeling between my legs. I sat up and held out my hands

for her. She put her hands in mine, and automatically spread her knees

and assumed the Learning Pose on the bed. I told her that we weren't

about that level of humiliation. A little humiliation, like having her

bare her ass to sit down, was good. But to progress to the things we had

been talking about was beyond humiliation, it was degradation, reducing

the slave to an animal or worse. I said I didn't understand why one

person would want to use another as a toilet, unless motivated by

hatred. So the answer to her question was No, I would never pee in her

mouth. Smiling, I added that I already knew she hated the taste of her

own urine, I doubted she would like mine any better.

I reminded her that a lot of her fantasies had a theme of increased

degradation. While there was nothing wrong with fantasies, she should

recognize the pattern, and not let the fantasies lead her to seek more

degrading behavior than her Master expected from her in real life. She

said that, because her master was so tolerant and loving and willing to

consider his Slave's wishes, there was a danger that she might

unconsciously try to push our relationship in undesirable directions,

and she asked her Master to watch for such things and correct his Slave

when necessary. I told her that I was always doing that, but that she

must also do the same for me, because that was crucial to our

partnership. She smiled and said I was right, as usual.

I told her I would like some more dancing and talking and wine drinking.

She said she was thinking the same thing. I got dressed, then asked her

if she wanted to keep her weights and plug. She nodded that she did, so

I put her sweater back on and straightened her hair with my hands,

gathered up the wine and glasses, and led her to the living room. I

asked her if she would mind wearing her heels while we danced, and she

said she would be pleased to, it raised her mouth closer to her

Master's. We both put on our shoes, sipped some more wine, and began

dancing.

We didn't speak for a long time, I just held her close and she rested

her head on my shoulder, nuzzling the side of my face. Occasionally I

would lean down and kiss her, and occasionally I would hear a contented

sigh from her. I don't think she came once all the time she was in my

arms. I wondered whether she was suppressing orgasms on purpose, or she

was thinking more about romance than sex. It didn't matter, her orgasms

were for her pleasure, whenever she chose it.

We had been dancing continuously like this for a long time, perhaps an

hour, when I noticed Philip was in the room. He was just standing with

his arms folded and smiling at us. I said hello to him. Carrie didn't

lift her head from my shoulder, but she also greeted him. Philip said he

had just come to tell us he was leaving for the day, but it was such a

pleasure watching us like this, he didn't want to leave. I asked him if

he wanted to stay and talk, we would be happy to stop dancing and sit

down with him. He said it would be a sin to interrupt what he was

seeing, and he was going to leave. He said he had prepared tonight's

dinner for us. It was in the oven and all we had to do was heat it up

for half an hour before eating. Then he said goodnight and left.

When I heard the door close, I moved my hands temporarily to her hips.

She took her head off my shoulder and looked at me questioningly.

"Sweater. Off. Now," I said, smiling. We didn't miss a step as she

peeled the sweater off and shook out her hair. Grinning at me, she shook

her boobs and made the weights sway. Then she rested her head on my

shoulder again and wrapped her arms around my waist. I held her and told

her I loved her. She sighed.