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Authors: Jack Quaiz

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After a few minutes,
Cole put his hands on the large spring clamps that were crushing her nipples. 
Simultaneously, he released the pressure and pulled them both away.  For the
first time, Monica screamed.  She also began thrusting her hips toward dina’s
busy mouth as far as her limited freedom would allow.  The two slave girls
dropped their sticks and each began to suck one of Monica’s outraged nipples,
which drove her into a frenzy of groaning, thrashing and heavy panting.

 

Cole looked down
at the pretty slave girl between Monica’s legs and said simply, “dina, it’s
time.”

 

Dina moved her
lapping tongue directly onto Monica’s swollen, throbbing clitoris.  After a few
seconds, Cole picked up the strings that connected the two rows of clothespins
and motioned for the two helpers to move aside. Michael chose that moment to
begin methodically striking dina’s small buttocks with a short single tailed
whip, which left a thin red welt with each stroke.

 

Monica could sense
dina’s pain traveling from her tight little bottom cheeks through her lithe
body and onto the tip of her tongue, where it was converted to intense pleasure
and transferred to Monica’s burning clitoris.  She began to feel the convulsive
contractions of her muscles that signaled the irresistible arrival of her orgasm.

 

Just as Monica
reached a devastating climax, Cole pulled hard on the two strings, which neatly
ripped the rows of clothespins from Monica’s body like opening a zipper.  The
sudden addition of more pain, combined with the fact that dina had thrust two
fingers into Monica’s dripping vagina, forced her to the highest possible level
of orgasmic flight.  She came and came and came.

 

When Monica awoke,
she was no longer in bondage.  Someone had wrapped her in a blanket and placed
her on a sofa in the playroom.  Her head was in someone’s lap.  Of course, it
was her beloved master, Howard Cole.  When he saw that her eyes were open, he
encouraged her to sit up and drink some cold fruit juice, which she gulped down
eagerly.   When he was satisfied that she was all right, he asked dina to come
over and sit with her while he went upstairs to socialize with the rest of the
group.

 

Monica and dina
made an immediate connection.  Since they both already knew each other’s
biggest secret, they felt like they had nothing to hide.  When Cole returned an
hour later to tell Monica it was time to go home, it was almost impossible to
separate them.  He had to remind her that it was now 2 AM and they had a rather
difficult drive home through Seattle.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

By summertime,
Monica’s negotiations with the software company had resulted in an excellent
contract.  In addition to a substantial salary and lots of creative autonomy,
she would have some control of her hours and be able to do part of her work at
home.  She gave her old employer a month’s notice, since the new job wouldn’t
be ready until then and she announced that she would take her accumulated two
weeks of vacation immediately.  Her loathsome boss was in no position to
protest, since she was the only one who could train her replacement. 

 

Cole and Monica
agreed that when she left her job downtown, she would move in with him to
further test their compatibility.  If they could live together happily for six
months or so, they believed that marriage should be the next step.

 

They decided to
use part of her vacation for hiking.  Cole cancelled some of his appointments
and rearranged others to make time.  It was a three hour drive along curvy
mountain roads to the small resort town of Leavenworth.   They decided to take
her car, since the weather was perfect for riding with the top down.  Monica
drove the little sports car like a professional, drifting it around curves and
passing slower traffic at just the right moment.  She refused to tell Cole
where she learned to drive that way.

 

They arrived
shortly after noon and looked around the unusual town before checking in at the
luxurious bed and breakfast.  Most of the buildings in Leavenworth had been
modified and decorated to make the town look like a traditional Bavarian
village.  Even the supermarket and the fast food outlets joined in the Bavarian
theme.  Playing tourist, they wandered through dozens of small shops offering
imported German products and local crafts.

 

Each day they
would see how hard they could push themselves on the steep hiking trails that
led to waterfalls or alpine lakes.  Being younger, Monica could hike faster,
but Cole, with decades of hiking experience, could go just as far when allowed
to set his own pace.  The weather was spectacular and the usual insects seemed
to have gone elsewhere, so they enjoyed themselves immensely. 

 

Each evening, they
would make the short drive back into town and eat at one of the excellent
German or Austrian restaurants.  Neither of them had ever eaten so much wiener schnitzel
and strudel.  One night they tried a restaurant that was styled in the Bavarian
beer hall tradition and sampled the sauerbraten with sauerkraut and excellent
German beer. Fortunately, their daily exertions in the surrounding mountains
made up for the delicious, but heavy meals.

 

On the last hiking
day, Cole told her that they would play.  “I’ve selected a trail that should be
nearly deserted, so we’ll be able to enjoy ourselves,” he said as they left the
bed and breakfast.

 

Arriving at the
trailhead after a 15 minute drive, they noticed only one other car in the small
parking area.  Cole began to give her orders.  “Leave your bra in the car,
subby girl.”

 

With Cole carrying
a daypack, they walked up the pleasant trail, enjoying the ideal hiking conditions. 
“I want you to stay a few steps behind me.  Listen carefully and obey all my
commands.”

 

After a few
minutes he said, “I want to see your breasts now.  Raise your T-shirt and keep
it up as we hike.  If you let it fall, you’ll be punished.”

 

The idea of
exposing herself in public to fulfill the orders of her master was extremely
hot.  As they hiked, she fell deeper into the familiar submissive headspace. 
“I’m the beautiful slavegirl, following my master on the trail to some distant
land,” she thought to herself.  An elaborate fantasy took shape in her mind as
they hiked.  In her fantasy, her body was perfect, something that she normally
couldn’t perceive.

 

Cole loved to
watch her full breasts bounce as she hiked.  Their firmness and perfect rounded
shapes were still fascinating to him.  He had to be careful not to trip when he
looked back at her.  Playing like this made him feel extremely dominant and
since his playmate was his beloved Monica, he was getting very horny too.

 

“You still have
the finest pair of tits I’ve ever seen, Little One.”

 

“Thank you,
Master.  Perhaps you’d like to use them later?”

 

“Yes, I can think
of several good uses right now.  I just hope I can hold out till we reach the
meadow.”

 

Of course, the
T-shirt fell down on several occasions.  He decided that the punishment must
fit the crime, so he picked a thick handful of foot long grass that grew in
huge clumps by the trail.  Forcing her to thrust her tits forward, he flogged
them vigorously with the stinging strands of grass.  This was great fun for
him, but Monica complained that her breasts were now itching.

 

“I bet they are,
you disobedient slut.  Just make sure you keep that shirt up,” he ordered.  As
they continued the hike, she held her shirt up with great diligence.

 

Just before they
reached the scenic meadow at the end of the trail, another hiker appeared
coming toward them.  Cole told her to hold her shirt up until the last second. 
She finally covered herself, but they were sure that the man had gotten a good
look.

 

Laying out a
blanket in the sunny meadow, they ate a delicious lunch prepared by a bakery in
town.  Then they lay on the blanket for a while, soaking up the sun and
listening to the sensuous sounds of the surrounding forest.  

 

Before they
started back, he told her, “I’m going to flog you again.  Partly because I
enjoy it and partly because it would be a shame to waste such a secluded
setting.”  Since the meadow was deserted, he simply ordered her to remove her
clothes and lie face up on the blanket with her arms and legs spread.

 

With a fresh whip
made from a bundle of long bunch grass, he proceeded to flog the front of her
body from her breasts to her thighs.  Of course he gave special attention to
her tits and cunt.  The harsh strands of grass left little red lines on her
beautiful skin.  She gave herself up to his ministrations as if it were the
most natural thing in the world.  He stopped when the urge to penetrate her
became too strong.  They coupled there in the meadow under a perfectly blue sky
with the wind whistling softly through the trees.  The rugged face of Mt.
Stuart looked down on them serenely as if to give its approval of the act.

 

After Monica’s
orgasm, he moved up to straddle her chest and produced a pocket size tube of
slippery lubricant.  He placed a small amount in the valley between her perfect
globes and laid his still painfully hard cock in between.  Grabbing her wrists,
he roughly moved her arms so that her elbows were touching in front of her face
and her hands were folded back near the top of her head.  Then he proceeded to
slowly fuck her beautiful tits. 

 

Her breasts were
still pink and very sensitive from the flogging with the irritating strands of
grass.  Using his strong hands on the outer surfaces, he pressed them together
to form a tight tunnel for his overheated phallus.  He stroked himself in this
manner for some time.  With his hands, he could feel his hardness moving
through the delightfully soft flesh and found the sensation quite erotic. It
would have been easy to come, but his dominant state of mind allowed him to
control his own orgasm quite effectively. 

 

Monica could feel
every tiny ridge of his aroused organ as it slid along the irritated skin of
her hypersensitive breasts.  This only increased her arousal and she held her
elbows tightly together to give her master the best possible use of her body. 
“Use me Master!” she cried out.

 

When Cole was
about ready to come, he shifted his grip on her abused tits and grabbed each of
her nipples with great force between thumb and forefinger.  Pulling them
brutally together increased the friction on his shaft to the point that his
orgasm was triggered by the next few desperate strokes.  The extreme
stimulation and emotional connection to her climaxing partner caused Monica to come
in great spasms that threatened to buck Cole off into the grassy meadow. 

 

They hiked most of
the way back to the car in a dazed state before they had recovered mentally and
physically from their erotic exertions.  That night, they were too exhausted to
do anything but sleep in close, loving contact with each other under the big
down comforter that protected them from the cool mountain air.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

The lovely summer
weather continued in Seattle after they had returned home.  They were both excited
about the prospect of living together and they decided that Monica should start
moving some of her things into the house.  Removing both rear seats from his
minivan converted it into a passable moving van.  Over a period of days, they
used it to transport various items of furniture that would no longer be needed
in her apartment.

 

As the end of her
downtown job came closer, they began to make plans.  “Since Friday is my last
day, I’ll have to clean out my office,” Monica said.  “Do you think you could come
down after work and help me with some boxes and stuff?  There are a couple of
big potted plants that won’t fit in my car.”

 

She asked him to
meet her at her car at 7 PM.  He could help her carry things down in the
elevator and his larger vehicle would easily carry anything that wouldn’t fit
in her Miata.  After loading up, they would drive both cars back to her Capitol
Hill neighborhood, where a trendy new restaurant had recently opened.  It was
reputed to have the best exotic Asian food in the city.  They made reservations
for 8:30.

 

They both grew
more excited as they counted down the days.  Having a great new job and living
in a wonderful house with her dominant soulmate sounded like heaven to Monica. 
Her only worry was that something would happen to end what seemed like a
wonderful dream.

 

Cole thought that
having her with him every day and snuggling together every night would be the
perfect life.  Neither thought much about the kinky sexuality they both
shared.  They took it for granted that this was a basic part of their lives. 
Their concerns at this point were exactly the same as those of any vanilla
couple in the same situation.

 

The final day at
her old job was a Friday.  She went through her files and discarded large
quantities of old papers.  Several documents and books were given to her
replacement, who had the new responsibilities added onto his existing job. 
There was the usual little office party with a supermarket cake that tasted
like cardboard and shortening.  Everyone signed a going away card and a few
people said they envied her for being able to leave.  At 5 PM, she started a
major effort to pack her personal items into several cardboard boxes.

 

Cole called her
from his office at 6:15 and told her that he was on his way.  He would look for
her Miata in the garage and meet her there at seven.  As he drove into downtown
Seattle, he noticed that the area around the tall office towers seemed to be
nearly deserted on this Friday evening.  No doubt the office workers couldn’t
wait to leave and start their weekends, he thought.  It was a beautiful, warm
early August evening that he hoped heralded an equally nice weekend.

 

He drove into the
seven floor parking structure and pulled a ticket from the machine that
demanded his attention with an obnoxious buzz.  The yellow crossbar lifted and
he proceeded up the ramp with his eyes scanning the parked cars.  The garage
was well lit as a security measure, so he had no doubt that he would easily
spot Monica’s car.  Cruising slowly, he drove quietly up to the second floor,
then the third.  He noticed that the parked cars became less numerous as he
went higher.  The fourth floor had only a few cars.  Still no sign of the
little Miata.

 

The fifth floor
was also nearly deserted.  As he neared the area where the only cars were
parked, he suddenly noticed something in the traffic lane that would require
him to slow down and maneuver around it.  The object appeared to be a cardboard
box of the type that was used for storing documents.  A common sight around any
office building. The top had fallen off and some of the papers were strewn
across the dirty concrete.  Perhaps someone had placed it on top of their car
and driven off?  The vehicle nearest the box was a large sport utility wagon
with no sign of a driver.

 

Moving slowly up
to the fallen box, he could now see past the large vehicle and noticed the rear
of Monica’s little sports car parked with its nose against the wall.  Something
inside him suddenly sounded an alarm and he stared intently between the cars
looking for movement.  There, on the driver’s side of the sports car, a man
stood between the two vehicles.  He was looking down at something with his back
to Cole.  The minivan rolled forward just a little more and it was possible to
see that someone else was down between the vehicles against the concrete wall.

 

Fighting for
calmness against an adrenaline surge, Cole allowed his van to roll back several
feet before putting it in Park and stepping out with the keys in his hand.  He
pressed the lock button on the remote and moved forward to confront the unknown
man.  Walking up quietly, he could see that the person on the floor was
Monica.  She was terrified. The man had completely ignored Cole’s approach and
was talking to her.  There was no way to make out what he was saying, but the
tone was obviously threatening.

 

Cole stopped
several feet away from the parked cars.  He realized that he needed to get the
man away from Monica and out from between the vehicles.

 

“Hello!” no
response.   “Hey Buddy, whatcha doing back there?” he shouted, in a non-hostile
voice.

 

Finally the man
turned around and looked at Cole.  He saw a bearded guy dressed in an expensive
suit and wearing little round yuppie glasses who did not seem to be a threat. 
But, “he could call the police and spoil my fun”, the man thought.  He turned
away from the cowering woman and stepped out to meet the meddling stranger.

 

Cole saw that the
man was in his twenties and powerfully built.  Stepping back slowly, he drew
the man farther away from Monica.  “That’s close enough,” he barked in his
command voice.  “The fun’s over.  Get lost before I call the cops.”

 

Although he was
under the influence of various street drugs, the man realized that he may have
misjudged the wimpy guy in the suit.  This would call for stronger measures, he
calculated.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folding combat knife
with a five inch blade and displayed it to frighten his intended victim.

 

Cole’s vision
centered on the knife and he knew he had to act quickly.  Before he could
consider his options, his hours of practice came into play and his pistol
appeared in his hand as if by magic.  He took another step backward to maintain
a safe distance from the knife wielding thug.  He knew that a man with a knife
could deal him a fatal wound if he was allowed to come within roughly twenty
feet.  The assailant could cover that distance in the time it took the brain to
make a decision and send the proper instructions to the trigger finger.  He was
prepared to fire if necessary.  Monica was safely on the cement floor between
two parked cars and the rest of the parking level was deserted.

 

His voice was calm
and coldly rational, “If you come within twenty feet, I’ll have to kill you. 
Why don’t you leave now while you still can?”

 

The man hesitated
for a moment, then took one step forward.  He blinked and shifted his eyes from
side to side as if trying to clear his vision.  Cole noticed that the man was
too well dressed to be a homeless vagrant.  Fresh haircut, clean blue jeans, white
running shoes and a T-shirt with a baseball team logo.  Perhaps someone who
works in the mailroom of a company in the area, Cole speculated. 

 

In a macho,
hostile tone, the man said, “You won’t shoot me, sissyboy.  You wouldn’t dare.”

 

Cole replied quietly
and precisely, “Do you want to bet on that?  At this range I can put a forty
five slug through each of your eyes before you can blink.  Just think of all
the nice recreational drugs you’ll miss out on.  You can’t do drugs when you’re
dead.” 

 

Cole watched every
detail with hyper-alertness.  He saw the knife being shifted in the large,
meaty hand and the film of sweat on the man’s face.   His vision narrowed to a
tunnel focused on the assailant, his hearing excluded all unimportant sounds
and time seemed to slow down.

 

Something must
have penetrated into the man’s brain and changed his plans.  The sissyboy’s
bearded face seemed to have taken on a distinctly devilish appearance.  The
would-be killer’s attitude changed from one of hostility to fear.  He backed
away for several steps, then turned and ran for the stairway.

 

Cole returned his
pistol to its holster inside his waistband and rushed over to Monica.  She was
already standing up and reaching out for him.  “Thank you,” she said before
bursting into tears.  His senses were now returning to normal and the sudden
reorientation was a most peculiar sensation.  He forced himself to calm down
and think about what he should do next.

 

He comforted
Monica for a minute while keeping watch for the possible return of the thug. 
There was no way of knowing if he might have some friends to act as
reinforcements. 

 

He made a quick
survey to see if Monica had been injured. The jacket of her expensive gray
business suit was missing.  Her white blouse had been ripped completely open
and there was a long tear in the front of her skirt.  He breathed a sigh of
relief at the lack of serious injuries.

 

He checked to make
sure that her car was locked and led her over to the minivan.  After she was
safely inside, he picked up the fallen box and papers, which he placed on the
floor behind the driver’s seat.  He briefly considered calling the police, but
the assailant would be long gone by now and it seemed more important to get
Monica home where she could recover emotionally.  Continuing to keep a tight
rein on his own emotions, he drove quickly and precisely home.

 

Safely at home,
Monica got undressed and checked to see if she was injured.  The only casualty
was a skinned knee, which he offered to bandage after she showered.  She
stepped into the shower while Cole fixed her a strong Irish coffee in the
kitchen. 

 

Relaxing in bed
later, she was able to recount the events that happened before Cole arrived at
the scene.  The man had entered the elevator where she was struggling a bit
with a heavy box of papers.  She thought he was drunk or high.  When she
refused his offer of help, he followed her to her car, then grabbed her purse
and pushed her down on the floor of the parking structure.  Unsatisfied with
the contents of her purse, he proceeded to threaten her with various types of
harm including rape.  As the endless minutes wore on, it became apparent that
rape had become his primary desire.  The thought that Cole would arrive soon
and that he would probably be armed helped keep her from collapsing completely

 

“Why couldn’t the
building management provide a little security?” she asked.  “They installed
video cameras last year, but I guess they aren’t being monitored.  I guess the
appearance
of security is what really counts.  As long as we
feel
safe, that’s the
important thing,” she said bitterly.

 

“Welcome to the
nineties, Monica.  Feelings come first.  Look who we elected president,” he
said with a raised eyebrow.

 

Then she told him
the one thing that bothered her the most.  “I don’t know if I should tell you
this, but when I realized that I couldn’t escape, I started to feel
submissive.  I guess it’s my natural state or something.  Even though I was
trying to remember those self-defense classes, some part of my mind kept telling
me to let him do whatever he wanted.   I was ready to give in and let him rape
me without a fight...  I might even have enjoyed it,” she sobbed.

 

“Don’t worry about
it Little One, it sounds pretty normal to me.  You’ve had a big emotional shock
and you probably aren’t thinking too clearly right now.  Let’s talk about this
some other time.”

 

Her tears flowed
freely, as her words spilled out rapidly, “You don’t understand Howard, when he
started ripping my clothes, I got turned on.  I couldn’t control it.  What if
it happens again?  I’m such a slut I can’t even take care of myself.” 

 

“Here, finish your
drink, you earned it.  I think you were very brave and I’m proud of you for
holding him off until I showed up.  We’ll go back and get your car tomorrow. 
If you want, we can call the police then.   Maybe those security cameras
recorded something and they can catch the guy.”

 

When her mug was
empty, he tucked her into the large bed and got in beside her.  Monica was
asleep in minutes, but he stayed awake most of the night, replaying the events
in his head over and over.

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