Changes Ch. 02

I received no messages from James in the two weeks after our encounter. It was good for me that he gave me some time to come to terms with my situation. I had to deal with the fact that I had gone outside my marriage for sexual gratification. I also had to deal with the fact that the gratification I sought was pretty much outside of what most consider normal.

Through it all ran the little scene of James telling me to come. The raw physical nature of where he had me when he said that was intoxicating...addicting. Turning myself over to James was the most thrilling and terrifying thing I had ever done. As much as I loved my husband, as much as I wanted to simply be "normal", I couldn't turn back now that I had sampled this darker side of me.

Over the two weeks following my exciting encounter, I came to grips with my desires. I told myself that I wouldn't let a confused society with roots buried in Calvinist and Puritan mores determine normal or acceptable for me. I alone would determine whether or not something was acceptable. I decided that it was time to experiment and stretch my erotic wings a bit.

I considered the thrill I had received from my experience with James. It was about becoming more by letting go...letting go of control, letting go of society's imposed rules, letting go of my self. When I let go of the roles of wife, daughter, business woman, "good girl", etc., that I had assumed for society, I allowed myself the freedom to experience without the filters that those roles imposed on me.

It was hard to let go like that. I was sure that the effort of getting beyond the socially acceptable roles would always be difficult for me. So much of my basic self was tied to them. It would take someone like James to tease and draw the slut out of the lady. However, I decided that I would not allow them to straight jacket me into missing out on the incredible experiences that I might have.

During this time, sex with Matt continued to be infrequent. He never seemed have the time, interest, and energy together at the same time. My sexual engine was running on overtime. I was more physically aware than at any other time in my life. My skin tingled with sensual excitement. I was constantly horny.

I finally came to the conclusion that I very much wanted to continue with exploring my new erotic self. On the Monday two weeks after my encounter, I decided to send James an e-mail when I got home from work at the gym.

That very day I noticed a parchment envelope under the wiper blade as I walked to my car after showering and cleaning up. It was addressed to me. I sat in the car and drew out a handwritten note and a map. It was from James. He knew I was ready even before I contacted him.

I flushed from head to foot with fearful excitement. I savored the mixture of feelings and delayed reading anything. I just sat there quivering in excitement, fear, and enormous sexual arousal. Just knowing that he had sent me a note (and a map!) put me on the verge of orgasm. It also refreshed every fear and doubt that I had harbored over the last weeks. How could I, a happily married woman, allow myself to be in this position.

I slowly read the note:

Kim,

By now you have come to terms with our little experience. If you are interested in more, simply come visit me right now. The physical path to my home is outlined on the map. Your path is outlined in my mind.

As always, you can simply throw this away and we need not continue.

James

What a rush of excitement. James seemed to know just what to do and when to do it. I was about to burst from the combination of fear, excitement, embarrassment, and lust.

The map was easy to follow. It lead me to a large Victorian house in town. It was one of those old beautiful buildings that are part of where the wealthy in Austin have lived since the civil war. I parked on the street and spent a couple of minutes trying to gather myself.

The walkway from the front gate to the front somehow seemed to be hundreds of miles long as well as just a couple of steps. It seemed like I walked up the path forever, but reached the door almost at once. My breath was short and my heart was hammering as I rang the bell. I tried to calm myself in the stillness after the notes rang. I would soon know exactly who James was.

The door was opened by a young girl in a grey maids outfit with crisp white apron. She could have been anything from 12 to 25 depending on how you looked at her. She was pretty with that barely contained under the surface sensuality you see in so many latinas. Her dark eyes were somehow wisely innocent.

"I...uh...I'm here to see Mr....uhh...I'm here to see James." I wasn't expecting to have to see anyone but my secret lover. This girls presence left my tongue in a small Gordian knot.

"Sí Señora. Venga por favor adentro." She stepped back and gestured me in.

She led me through the large foyer and into what the builders of this old mansion must have called the Ladies Parlor. The room was just off of the main entryway, and had another doorway leading farther back into the house. It was decorated with incredible antique furniture. The maid led me to a small couch that sat before a large coffee table.

"Por favor espera aquí," she said. Then the young woman backed out of the room.

As I listened to her footsteps recede, I contemplated rushing back out the front door. I had not been prepared to encounter anything quite like this. In my minds eye, I had built a vision of a condo with a loft, with James in a silk robe welcoming me. The whole "old-money with servants" thing has really spooked me. I was off balance and out of control again. It seems that James knew just how to keep me there.

The maid came back into the parlor bearing a silver tray. She set it on the table before me then met my eyes. As I looked at her she smiled a beaming smile that lit her eyes and made her look to be on the younger end of the scale I had imagined for her. The girl turned and left the room without any words.

I looked at the tray. On it sat a handwritten note in parchment and a black silk blindfold.

Kim,

1. Remove your clothes and fold them neatly on the table.

2. Place the blindfold over your eyes and make sure that NO light can get in.

3. Seat yourself and wait for Carmelita to bring you to me.

As always, we need not continue. You may simply walk out the door and I will not bother you ever again. While we are playing, you need only to whisper "Halt" and I will stop. Keep in mind that if you do stop the proceedings, they are immediately and forever over.

James

I was torn. The part of me that grew up being a good girl, that was now good wife and a proper independent business woman, that was a "lady" in the Emily Post sense of the word, wanted nothing more than to leave in a huff. That part of me said that what I was doing was wrong, that I should go and write this whole thing off as a bad experience and walk the straight and narrow path henceforth.

Another part of me took this as a challenge to be met. I could regain control of myself, either by leaving or (better yet) by participating and gaining an upper hand in the process. However, that path was risky, it had not worked before and the ease with which James managed to keep me off balance made it seem unlikely that I would gain an advantage.

The part of me that had brought me to this house, that had masturbated remembering the orgasm in the tanning room, and had given me tight nipples and wet panties on the way here saw this as the opportunity to become a decadent slut. The physical and emotional rush I received when I had submitted to James before was beyond anything I had ever experienced. It called to me at a very deep level.

I was frozen in place before the table. I couldn't bring myself to take any course of action. Slowly I stood. Whatever I chose to do, I would have to stand. I looked about the room, taking in the furnishings. Outside, birds hopped from limb to limb on the big shade tree in front of the bay window. My brain was stuck as surely as a geared machine with monkey wrench inserted. The lady and the tramp were deadlocked in battle.

I stepped towards the front door, forcing my feet to break the glue holding them to the floor with each step. As I moved past the end of the coffee table, I glanced back at the silken black blindfold. The chiaroscuro of light and shadow in the folds of silk arrested my progress towards the door. I took a step back and bent to touch the silk. It was soft and sensuous. I could feel the warmth where the sunlight had struck the black silk.

I don't know how long I stood there holding the blindfold. It could have been seconds, it cold have been twenty or more minutes. After however long passed, though, I looked around the room again. Everything seemed a bit brighter and more in focus. I knew what to do and that decision seemed to enhance my senses and make me more alive.

I placed the blindfold back on the tray and turned my back to it. Then I quickly stripped and folded my clothes, stacking them on the arm of the couch. Once I was nude, I turned and faced the blindfold that had seduced me. I held it to my face, feeling the soft brush of the smooth silk against my cheek. I sat down and transferred my clothes onto the table and put on the blindfold. It easily adjusted to block out all light.

I sat there with my heightened senses, smelling the polish on the furniture, listening to the birds out the window, feeling the texture of the upholstery against my legs. I trembled and waited.

It wasn't very long before I heard the soft steps of the young maid come into the room. I felt myself blushing at my exposure to this stranger. She took my hand and guided me to stand before the couch. She turned me and checked the security of the blindfold with little tugs. Then she led me out the back door to the parlor and into the unknown part of the house.

She led me down a flight of stairs and into a room that had the cool feeling of a basement. There was no musty basement odor, but the air had that cool damp earth feel to it. The sounds of the floor and the echoes from the walls supported the basement feeling.

The little maid turned me and backed me against a thick pole. It felt like polished wood, almost as thick as a phone pole. She left me there, arms at my sides and my back to the pole. My stomach felt just like I imagined it would if I leapt from a tall balcony. I was quivering with fear and anticipation. The "Lady" in me was dying of humiliation, and knew that more was to come.

I heard his footsteps cross the room. I sensed his body close to mine. My nipples crinkled. I sniffed the air trying to get his scent. He smelled clean and masculine. I wanted his touch.

"Hello, Kim. Welcome to my home." James whispered softly in my ear.

"Hello."

He chuckled. "I think we know each other well enough to use first names. You may call me Mister James, or Sir. I will call you anything I want. How does that sound, Slut?"

Slut! The whispered sibilant word echoed in my head. I felt my body running through its fight or flight checklist. Adrenaline was released and muscles flexed as my subconscious prepared my body to flee. My conscious mind grasped for control.

"Any...anything you say...Sir."

Another deep chuckle. "You seem to understand the rules."

I felt him grasp my hand. The electricity of his touch charged my libido. He wrapped a soft velvety loop over my hand and snugged it to my wrist. My captor/lover then bound my other wrist similarly. He stepped away and I suddenly felt my arms lifted over my head. He pulled them up until I only had the faintest amount of weight on my heels. I wasn't quite on my tiptoes, but I certainly couldn't stand flatfooted.

"Now we begin, my little slut. You must surrender yourself to me completely. That takes time as we must build trust. You can only let go just so far with a stranger. It is not until you completely trust me, until you give yourself completely to me without holding anything back, then you can experience complete pleasure."

His voice was no longer a whisper. He had a rich voice that I recognized, but couldn't place.

"It is going to take some time for you to develop that trust. We will build to it over time. You have already made a lot of progress today. Watching your struggle after you read my note was terribly exciting for me. I knew you were going to strip for me, but I didn't know how long it would take you to realize it."

I felt him brushing the back of his hand up my side as he spoke. My skin tingled. I could smell my own arousal. I hungered for his intimate touch.

"You are quite lovely. Standing there with your arms tied above you. The contrast between your white skin and the black silk on the blindfold is really striking."

He caressed my cheek as he said this. His hand held so much power.

"You are here and in my control voluntarily. That is quite a compliment. Thank you. I want you to remember that everything we do is voluntary for you. You can end our relationship with one little magic word. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, yes I understand."

There was a sudden burning pain in my right nipple accompanied by a loud pop. I gasped at the sudden pain.

"You mustn't forget to whom you speak, slut."

"Yes, sir. I understand Mister James."

"Do you remember the magic word that ends this and turns you back into a prim, upstanding, little citizen?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. To continue in our little session today, we will reinforce the voluntary nature of your participation. For the rest of your visit here today you will ask, beg, for every punishment or pleasure I allow you. That should help you remember that you want these things, don't you think?"

"I...I...yes, sir." I was completely lost in this event. My breast burned and tingled where it had been struck. My pussy was drenched with moisture.

"To start with, I like things to be even. Balance is an important thing in life. When things are out of balance, they are ugly. Right now you are ugly. You have a bright red mark and a little swelling on your right nipple where my riding crop helped you remember my name. What should we do about that?"

I stopped breathing. I knew what he wanted, but couldn't choke out any words. I felt the sand of his patience passing through the hourglass. I had to say it.

"Please, sir. Please balance my breasts."

"Well, well. The cat didn't get your tongue. Try just a little harder now. Be specific and don't use the polite words, little slut."

"Please, sir. Hit my...my left titty with your crop." It was easier this time. I felt momentary pride and satisfaction at having said it. Then I was aghast at the thought of what I had just said. I thought about what my husband's reaction to this scene would be. I felt excited and humiliated by the thought.

Crack! The fire moved to my left breast. I gasped again. My pussy clenched and my knees buckled. I hung from my arms and tried to gather my senses. After a few breaths, I put weight back on the balls of my feet and stood before my master.

"Very nice. A balanced pair of breasts. You are quite pretty."

I exalted in his compliment. Then I felt his crop slide between my legs and move slowly up my left thigh. When it finally reached my dripping pussy, he stopped and held it still.

"Ask for it. Beg for me to touch your cunt." He said softly.

I tried to hunch my hips against the crop to get a little of that incredible friction. He just moved the crop with me, denying me my pleasure.

"Please, please sir. Please touch me. Touch me, sir." I moaned in frustration.

He reduced the pressure of the crop against my body.

"Touch what?" he asked.

"Mister James, please touch my cunt with your crop."

"You are starting to learn, little slut."

Then, I felt it. He drew the crop out and pushed it back while keeping the leather in contact with my clit. I hunched my hips into the movement. I was on the verge of climax when he withdrew the crop. I whimpered.

"That's enough for now, little slut. It is time to give your shoulders a rest."

When he said that, I realized that my arms were starting to be uncomfortable. He knew before I did.

He released my arms from overhead, keeping them in the thick velvet loops. He lead me across the room and made me step up onto a short box.

"There, that is just the right height. Back in the mid 1920's, the owner of this house was a banker who became obsessed with fitness. He bought any number of health tonics available then. He also outfitted this room with quite a lot of exercise equipment. You are standing in front of an eighty year old pommel horse. I have anticipated seeing you draped across this for some time now. You are going to come to love this old thing."

He bent me forward until I was draped across the smooth leather. My ass was pointed at the ceiling and my head and legs drooped to either side of the horse. I felt him secure my hands to something below me. Then he attached what felt like the same kind of velvet loops to my ankles and secured my legs as well. I couldn't move. Breathing was difficult.

I heard him walk all the way around me. As he came around to my head, he bent down and whispered in my ear.

"Ask, little slut. Then you get your wish."

I had surrendered to this dark scene. I knew I could say "halt" and leave. I also somehow knew I could ask for him to fuck me, and that he would. But something deep inside, something that I could barely acknowledge to myself, wanted something else. I needed something else. Every step along the way that brought me to this position was driven by an unspoken, barely acknowledged need. The need was powerful, even if I tried to hide from it. It was time to let the need wash over me.

"Spank me, Mister James. Please spank me. Use your crop, use a paddle, use your hand. Please, spank me." I felt tears in my eyes as I begged.

"You know you could have asked for something else don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Please spank me Mister James. Spank my white ass. Please make it red, make it burn, make it match my titties."

I heard him move away. Then there was a stillness. I heard a whistle. Then my ass burst into pain. There was a rush of emotion that accompanied the burning pain. Slowly the immediate pain turned into a throbbing burn. Then there was another whistle, and the pain and emotional rush flowed throughout my body again. This was repeated four more times. I think I came on each of the last three. It was so different from a simple sexual orgasm. This was an emotional and physical feeling like nothing I had felt before. It left me sobbing.

I was only semi-aware of Mister James releasing my bonds and guiding me across the room. I heard a chair creak as he sat in it. I stood before him with tears in my eyes. I could feel the silk blindfold had absorbed the wet tears. After several minutes, I stopped crying. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

"Reach down and forward with your hands," he commanded.

I complied. I felt his knee. It was raised as if he had his foot raised in front of him. This was the first time I had ever laid a hand on him. I tried to memorize everything about the moment. His linen slacks were smooth and had a crease. I could feel muscles in his leg. I felt a sexual thrill from just touching this man's knee.

"I want you to kneel and straddle my foot."

I slowly knelt. Running my hands down his leg. I felt his boot tops under his slacks. His foot was braced on a wooden box of some kind. When got on my knees, my pussy was resting just above the smooth surface of his boot.

"You may ask to touch my boot now."

"Please Mister James. Allow me to touch your boot with my cunt." I asked breathlessly.

"You are learning, aren't you? Yes, you may touch my boot. But only as long as my cock is in your mouth."