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  • Possession Ch. 02

Possession Ch. 02

12

The next day found me with renewed resolve. I didn't get where I was today by letting myself be ruled by hormones, or men, either. No matter how sexy they might be. I was going to regain the upper hand at work today, and absolutely show Bryan that I didn't belong to him, or anyone else. I'd made it through the night without my husband seeing my bruises, and dressed quickly that morning, careful not to let him walk in on me in the bathroom. I took extra care with my makeup, intending to be cool, crisp, and in control when I got to work.

The first glitch in my plan was devastating. I wandered nonchalantly around the office looking for him, and finally resorted to asking a coworker if they'd seen him. "Oh no, Bryan called in sick. Flu, I guess. I heard he was going to be out the rest of the week." I went back to my desk, and sank into my chair slowly, my heart sinking with me. How was I supposed to demonstrate how little I needed him when he wasn't even here? Well, no matter. I was convinced that yesterday afternoon had been a fluke. A simple matter of sexual frustration, and boredom, nothing more. If I couldn't demonstrate it to him here at work, what did it matter? I just wouldn't show up on Saturday. Case closed.

I was as busy as ever that day, making calls, visiting customers, and pushing myself hard, but the day dragged on interminably. At random moments, I would suddenly see his chiseled face, and hear his warning. "You are not allowed to cum."

I was hyper-conscious of my bare thighs rubbing together whenever I crossed my legs, and the unsatisfied need from yesterday was a palpable thing. I resolved to take care of it as soon as I got home, and maybe even before that. Every time I went to the ladies' room, I hoped that it would be empty, and I could shut myself into a stall and prove once and for all that I didn't need him.

Just my luck, there was never any privacy, and by the time I left, I was climbing the walls. There was a long deserted stretch of road between the office and my house, and I had just hitched up my skirt and slid aside my thin silk panties, when my phone beeped, indicating an incoming text. Afraid it was my boss, or worse yet, my husband, I checked it quickly.

"Remember what I told you, pet. No touching, and absolutely no orgasms for you. I'll know, and you'll be punished." My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly smoothed down my skirt. It was going to be a long wait until Saturday.

*******

As much as he knew she had already subjugated herself in her attempt to find pleasure and release, he also understood that she was trying to fill a deeper need. Something born in the back of her brain. Something that never made it to the light, but would not release her. She had never admitted the desire, but it was already controlling her life. Already leading her to her knees under the guise of striving for success. She had been lying to herself, saying it was what she had to do if she wanted to make sales, because she could not yet acknowledge that she wanted nothing more than to be held so tightly that she was made powerless. Nothing more than to be controlled, so that she could give up the pretext of love making, and finally find fulfillment in simple abandon.

But she was not yet ready to understand all of this. She would still be struggling with the truth, telling herself that she had to do as he said, even though he had already released her. He knew that he would need to release her again and again as she struggled to acknowledge that this was what she wanted. For now, she needed the reminders to rail against, and to keep her within the boundaries that he had set. She would need her rebellions and rationalizations, but she would also need to be taught to follow his instructions, to comply without question, to learn the pleasure of submission.

*******

It was a long way to his house. He'd emailed me directions, to my personal email, no less. Further proof that he knew me way better than I was comfortable with. Other than the detailed directions, there was little else, except a reminder to bring my collar and leash. The email also said that while three hours was a minimum, I needed to start getting used to the fact that my time was no longer my own. If he required my services for longer, I would simply have to adjust.

The words were like waving a red flag in front of a bull, but perhaps most frightening was the fact that I knew somehow that he was provoking me deliberately. A calculated move to put me in a rebellious frame of mind before I even presented myself. The fact that it was working just made me angrier, but mostly at myself. What could be worse than being smart enough to know you're being manipulated, but too needy to refuse? And the growing realization that he knew me better than I did myself was very disconcerting.

It had only been three days since he left me on my porch, but it seemed like a lifetime. I'd been studiously avoiding thinking too hard about him, busying myself with work, and cleaning house when I got home until I was too tired to do anything but fall in bed and sleep. I had no distractions now, though; only a 45 minute drive through the country, and plenty of time to think about what I was doing.

It would have been so much easier if he'd kept up the pretense of blackmail. Then I would have had no choice, and would not now be forced to examine my feelings, and justify my actions. He had not. He'd calmly handed over the pharmaceutical case, and offered me the chance to go back to my vanilla life, and the very thought of it made me queasy. I needed him, his mastery of my body, and his uncanny understanding of my deepest desires.

My heart was racing, my palms sweating, and I'd been unable to eat breakfast. It felt like fear, but I knew better. I had known him too long, seen his calm demeanor in the office, and knew in my heart that he would never injure me. My adrenaline was pumping because I had no idea what was in store for me, but more to the point; that I wouldn't be able to control it. I wanted him to own me. I craved the freedom of total submission, and I could no longer hide it, even from myself.

*******

Bryan's house was not remote, but was set back from the road on a small bit of land, much of which had once been a farmstead home surrounded by a wood lot. Bad land too rough to plow, but adequate for the small garden, yard, and the few buildings that used to make up a farm. It had been the last piece held by the aging farmer whose children had all left for the city long before. The rest sold off to neighbors with adjoining fields. His rough acres were surrounded by trees, the farmyard wind break, and acres of fields on either side. There were still a few small out buildings, and the clutter of a many such estates as their owners aged, and eventually got behind on maintenance. He had not spent much on the property, barely the value of the land, but he had put a great deal of labor into setting things right. Good fences make good neighbors, but good maintenance keeps them from bothering you.

Rebecca arrived three minutes late. He had expected she would be late. This was all the rebellion she would allow herself. He knew that she had probably gone though a whole list of rationalizations; first that she didn't have to obey him, that she could touch herself and he would not know. Maybe she thought that she could cum if her husband made love to her, though he suspected that was infrequent and inadequate. Until finally she decided that she didn't have to go to his house. That he couldn't tell her what to do, until finally convincing herself that that she would 'just go have a look'. No doubt she had struggled a lot that first day back at work. His message had been planned to leave her the sense that she was being watched, and to give her an excuse to obey him. An excuse she would not long need as she learned the pleasure of obedience. The only other message he sent was to tell her to be sure to bring her collar and leash when she came.

*******

My hand shook almost too badly to knock, but I managed a tentative rapping, and waited nervously for him to answer. I wasn't really sure what to expect, and had dressed simply, knowing full well that the only thing that mattered was how quickly I would be able to undress. My collar and leash were in my hand, as I was already learning that disobedience would not be dealt with lightly. I was also beginning to acknowledge the sobering truth that obeying him turned me on like nothing ever had before.

I stood on his porch for what seemed like a lifetime, waiting for the rest of my life to begin. I knew that today would not necessarily be pleasant, and in fact, might involve a great deal of pain for me. I also knew that I could no longer live without it.

*******

He went to the door when she knocked, stepping out onto the front porch to greet her. She stepped back, uncertain what to do.

"You are late. Do not be late again." He did not dwell on it, giving her no chance to present her excuse.

"I had hoped to start with pleasure, but I think we both realize that you have chosen punishment instead."

He understood then that she might not be as ready as he expected, that she might not be able to yield to him, to his strength, and to realize her release without hiding behind excuses. This was little obstacle to him, and he would correct it as gradually as she required, starting immediately.

"Take off your clothes and stack them on the floor. While you are here you will wear only what I give you. You will leave your clothes at the door and wait for me on your knees. Since you were late, you will wait longer today. Put your leash and collar on top of your clothes and wait by the door."

"Where do I change?" she asked.

"You don't change." He replied evenly, without irritation, but also without sympathy.

"You strip. And then you kneel." He told her. "You do it here, you do it now, and you will not question me."

He stepped past her and walked over to a chair, where he sat down to watch her strip away her clothes, enjoying her silent struggle as she released her modesty to his will. He savored the moment her confusion passed as she focused on his simple command, and started the familiar task of undressing herself. She settled to her knees without a word beside the small pile of clothes, leaving the leash and collar on top of the stack as he had directed.

He said nothing while he savored her subservience. The welts on her ass were nicely purple now, no longer angry red against her pale skin. He enjoyed them as he stood over her, inspecting her body, and her folded clothes. She had done it properly, leaving no uneven edges to hint at rebellion.

"You have done well," he told her softly, letting his hand rest atop her head, stilling her. "Perhaps there will yet be time for pleasure today, once your penance is served."

He finally placed the collar around her neck and attached the leash when he was satisfied that she had had time to consider her actions, long after her knees must have tired from the unaccustomed wait, kneeling at his feet.

"Now I will show you where to park, and where to enter. You will do this the same way each time you come here. Remember that you are owned, and that your place is on your knees. But you may rise now, so we can move your car." He walked towards the porch door, pulling her slightly by the leash.

"But I don't have any clothes on," she protested.

"You have your collar. That is all you have earned, and it is all that you need."

He pulled the leash, so she had no choice but to follow him outside, around the front and into the driveway. Unclipping her, he had her follow the drive into the back courtyard and park next to a small white building that had once been farmer's tool shed. He then led her into the dirt floored shack to the side of an old wooden work bench, now cleared of the old tools and scraps it once held.

"This is where you will leave your clothes, and don your collar."

He showed her that there were several hooks that used to hold tools, still secured in the peg board. There were 3 collars hanging from the hooks. He showed her that hers would be the fourth hook, and explained that she was to hang her collar there when she left, and that she was allowed to use the drawer below the bench for her clothes, and worldly items.

"Because you were late, you will now be punished" He said, as he secured her leash to her collar. He pulled open one of the shallow upper drawers of the work bench, and she could see a variety of items arrayed within. He took out two silver clasps, connected by a thin chain, and a coil of rope.

"You understand that you must be punished, so you will remember how to act, don't you?"

She started to apologize, but he cut her off, repeating himself.

"You understand that you must be punished, so you will remember how to act, don't you?"

"Yes Sir," was her only response this time. She was learning.

"These are nipple clamps. I am going to tie your hands behind your back, and you will stand on this bucket, on your tip toes. I will place the clamps upon your nipples, and tighten them, and then loop the chain over the rope hanging from that rafter. Do you see it?"

"Yes Sir." She had started flushing as he explained what was to happen. Her nipples were already hard, and she probably remembered how roughly he had twisted them the last time he had used her. He knew she was already wet, even though he had yet to touch her.

"You may leave now if you like. But if you stay you will be punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir" she said, after a bare moment's glance at the door.

"Do you know why you are being punished, and do you agree?"

"Yes Sir, I didn't follow instructions, and I need to be punished."

*******

He was right, of course; I had been late deliberately, just to try to retain one tiny bit of control. Now I would pay the price. So much for my silly idea that I was learning to be obedient! The very sight of the nipple clamps made me wet and frightened all at the same time, and his description of what was to follow made butterflies race through my belly. But hadn't I really, deep down inside, been courting this when I purposely came late? Didn't I know that even three minutes would be enough?

Of course I did, and if the punishment was more than I had bargained for, then perhaps next time I would be smarter. The only alternative was to turn around and walk back to my car, and that would be the most painful thing of all. I met his gaze evenly, took a deep breath, and offered my wrists to him. I knew, as he probably did as well, that the gesture was symbolic. In my own fashion, as eloquently as I was able, I was accepting his control.

*******

He pulled her hands behind her, and looped a short harsh rope around them. One day she would learn that this was Sisal, but today she knew only that it was scratchy, and that she became wetter as he coiled it around her wrists. He explained that he was using multiple loops to make the binding tight, without cutting off her circulation. He helped her step up onto the bucket and looped her leash over the rafter, tightening it so that she had to stand straight, then pulling a bit more, so that she could not move without discomfort.

After she was positioned properly on the bucket he stepped back to admire her, letting her wonder what was next before stepping closer. He squeezed her nipples in his fingers, and then slowly and methodically attached the nipple clamps. He watched her eyes as he slowly turned the screws tighter, until she winced, then tighter until the first tears began to well up in her eyes. As he tightened the screws he stroked one hand down her belly, across her thighs, and then up between her legs, to rest on her hairless, clean shaven mound. He understood that for all her rebellion, this meant she had shaved today, just for him.

"Good Girl," he told her before slipping one finger between her damp folds, testing her wetness and seeking out her clitoris. He stroked her gently, quickly firing her passion even through the pain of the clamps.

He kept gently stroking her clit as he clipped the chain to the rope, and pulled the slack until she had to rise to her tip toes to reduce the pressure on her nipples. He did not stop when she was on her toes, but continued to caress her, more firmly, until she started to moan, begging him to please let her cum. He entered her with his fingers, fucking her slowly with two fingers while continuing to rub her clit with his thumb. Her legs became unsteady, and when she faltered the nipple clips pulled savagely.

"You look good with your tits hanging from my nipple clamps," he said, stepping away from her as she was about to cum. "I am sorry you were late today, I would have liked to feel you cum."

She moaned in frustration. "Please Sir, please let me cum?"

"We'll see. Perhaps you will show me that you can be an obedient pet later, and I will permit it. For now, I advise you not to fall off of that bucket. I think it will hurt a great deal if the clips pull off. I will be back in 15 minutes. You may watch the clock until I return. Of course, I might be late..."

With that he walked out, leaving her hanging in every way.

*******

I was in agony, and no one to blame but myself. His warm hands stroking my body, and caressing my slick innermost folds were the complete antithesis to the sharp pain of the clips biting into my nipples, and yet I knew that one built upon the other. My calf muscles ached from staying on tiptoe, but I couldn't even contemplate what would happen if I fell. The minute hand crawled across the clock in slow motion, and I tried to distract myself from the pain by imagining what would happen when he came back for me.

At long last, he did, way past the 15 minute mark, of course. For once I wisely controlled my tongue, and made no reference to the time. He released my nipples, and the blood rushing back made me gasp. He sucked them greedily, turning my gasp into a moan. Holding me steady, he helped me down from the bucket, but did not release my hands. To my complete shock, he held me gently, and murmured in my ear.

"You have to learn, Pet. I am in control now, and the more you fight it, the more pain you will bring yourself. When you truly surrender, I will show you how wonderful it can be."

I relaxed in his arms, but the moment of tenderness was brief. Taking a firm grip on my leash, he dragged me outside, and led me on a long, exposed walk to his house, that stripped me of any dignity I had retained. I was naked, barefoot, collared and leashed, with my hands still tied behind my back. I prayed that none of his neighbors were close enough to the fence to see, but kept my head down, just in case. I didn't think I could bear the shame if anyone saw me like this, and yet I was exactly where I wanted to be.

In my haste to get back inside, to keep my humiliation as private as possible, I was now walking in front of Bryan. Suddenly he yanked so hard on the leash that I almost fell.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, his voice suddenly hard again.

"Because you told me to come," I stammered, not understanding his change of mood.

"Not good enough. I gave you back your sample case, and your freedom. Tell me why you're really here, and make it good, or I'll send you on your way."

*******

"I want you," she said. "I came because I want you."

"What does that mean?" he asked, holding the leash steady so that she could not escape into the house. Forcing her to wait in the open. Pulling her down so that she had to stand hunched over, unless she chose to kneel.

"Those words are nonsense. They only serve to hide the truth of your desire. They are little better than lies. You don't want me, and you can't have me, and you know that."

12
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