Lisa's Journey

I slowly and gently disengaged her arms, stood up beside the bed, and gently rearranged her body so that her arms were again stretched out, and her legs were spread wide, open and ready for more attention.

I climbed back onto the bed and began kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth and the rest of her body down to her toes. I then began slapping everywhere I had kissed. I then I began some serious cunnilingus. She responded gratefully, expressing her enjoyment with rotating hips and a gasping climax.

I climbed back up and held her until we fell asleep in each other's arms.

We woke up together at dawn, showered together, maintaining some control of our desires and emotions.

I fixed us a quick breakfast, and I ordered her to get dressed and go home. She lived with two roommates, and they would be curious about her night. If she wished to share her story with them, that was her choice. They would see her body anyway. I said nothing about that. I kissed her deeply and sent her on her way. There would be many nights to come. I owned her.

I did not see her the next day, nor the next, both of us being busy with the demands of classes.

Chapter 2

The third day was Friday, and there was a concert on campus. We both showed up in the field house and found seats in the back rows--but not together. At intermission we met, ostensibly by accident, and talked about the music. At the end of the intermission, we parted casually by simultaneously saying the ordinary parting word, "Later." She nodded indicating she understood its special meaning this time.

The concert ended, and I drove home. I went in, leaving the door unlocked, and changed clothes, putting on sweat pants and a loose sweatshirt.

i uncorked a bottle of Merlot and set it and two glasses on the kitchen counter, and went into the living room to wait.

I sat down on my easy chair with my current book, A Distant Mirror, and immersed myself in the 14th century.

I had read a full chapter when I heard the front door open, close, and be locked. Lisa walked in, removing her jacket, and dropping it on the couch. She was wearing her usual blouse and jeans.

I stood up, put my arms around her and gave he a kiss of welcome. She returned it, and pressed her body into mine.

After a delicious couple of minutes, I broke off the kiss, stepped back while holding her waist and let my eyes devour her. Her green blouse contrasted beautifully with her long red tresses.

I let my hands move all over her still-clothed body, feeling her responding arousal. Her lovely lips separated as her breathing became a bit ragged.

I slapped her cheeks just hard enough to make an audible sound. Her response was to raise her head and lean toward me, offering her reddened cheeks for more painful attention. I accepted the invitation, and slapped almost hard enough to knock her to the floor. I caught her as she staggered back, and stopped slapping in time to avoid giving her visible bruises. I had to be careful to not lose control in response to her compliant beauty.

I clinched her and kissed her hard, crushing those lovely lips, causing her to emit a loud moan, as she returned the kiss and her body quivered in arousal. She was ready for some serious attention, and I breathed deeply in anticipation of the bedroom.

In order to prolong the enjoyable anticipation, I unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it out of her jeans, opened it wide to discover that she was wearing a front-opening strapless bra. I opened it and pulled it off. I left her blouse hanging open and taking her hand and led her into the kitchen where I poured two glasses of the Merlot. I had her sit on one side of the small round kitchen table, while I sat opposite her. I handed her one while lifting the other in a silent toast. The glasses clinked and we drank slowly, while I enjoyed the sight of her lovely breasts displayed by her open blouse. The scene recalled the one in which O sat at a table in a restaurant, her open blouse displaying her abused breasts to a table of fully dressed men.

I asked: "How do you feel, sitting there with your tits exposed, while I am fully clothed and we are enjoying wine together?"

She shyly whispered her answer: "It is arousing and humiliating. I feel like I am publicly being casually displayed like a used car on a lot, for sale to anyone. It is arousing, I think, only because it is you who are offering to sell me. I am glad those potential buyers are only figments of my imagination.

"You have an amazing imagination," I responded, "but you undervalue yourself. If you were a car, you would be a one-of-a-kind exotic sports car, on display, but not for sale, and not to be touched by anyone but your owner."

"Thank you, Master," she whispered.

Prolonging the moment, I refilled our glasses. Then I observed, "you appear to be comfortable with silence. I am glad. In most Dom/sub relationships, the sub is required to speak submissively. She is to say 'yes master', 'thank you sir,' 'please master,' etc. "I don't need that sort of verbal acknowledgement of my mastery of you. Your actions in response to orders is sufficient. If you wish to speak, that is fine, but if not, I will tell you when I want to hear your voice."

When the glasses were empty, we set them on the counter beside the bottle and stood up facing each other. I took her hand and led her into the bedroom, stopping just inside to remove our shoes. We proceeded and stopped beside the bed.

I tipped her face up and kissed her.

I stepped back and ordered her to slowly strip. I wanted to enjoy the slow display of her charms. She obeyed.

She had to exert control to go slowly while I enjoyed the show.

When the performance ended, she dropped her arms to her sides and stood, waiting.

What I wanted to do was just look at her. The marks on her breasts from last time were faded but noticeable. The pink nipples were erect and inviting. I let my eyes slowly move over that nude vision for several minutes. Then took her hand and led her to the closed closet door.

I had made a change in the décor of the room. Now, above the top of the closet door, a chain hung in a shallow catenary.

I wanted to make sure the chain was at the right height. I turned her so that her back was to closet door. I lifted her hands to the chain, and told her to grasp but not pull it. It was at the right height. Her arms were now vertical. I knew she would have held her arms up without any support; the chain was to avoid undue pain in her arms. I wanted her to concentrate on other sources of pain.

I stepped back and took in this new view. A perfect picture of vulnerability. Her breasts were lifted as offerings to her master, and her nipples stood at attention. Her abs were flat beneath those thrusting breasts. Her breathing came is shallow gasps of arousal. Here hips quivered.

After several minutes of erotic contemplation of that offered perfection, I spoke: "Lisa, I said, Last time you were here you hesitated to obey one of my orders. I told you the you would be punished for that lapse in submission. I trust you remember."

She nodded.

"Now is the time for that punishment. Come here."

I sat down on the edge of the bed; she came and stood before me. I grabbed her and placed her across my lap with her tits hanging down and her lovely butt cheeks displayed upward on my lap. I started to spank her, alternating between those two. She audibly gasped as each blow landed. After twenty blows her whole bottom was a lovely shade of pink and she was panting and moaning. I ran a finger down the groove between her cheeks, and a moan turned into a gasp of pleasure; I had found a turn-on switch. I repeated the action slowly several times, enjoying her response.

I picked her up and took her in my arms, and held her in a firm embrace until her breathing returned to normal. This took a while because the spanking and fingering had aroused her, and her hips were grinding against me. I chose not to satisfy her craving just yet. I had more in store for her.

I released her and told her to go back and grasp the chain as before. She did as she was told, and once again I had a full, frontal view of that incredible vulnerable body. I could see the evidence of her arousal running down her thighs. Her legs quivered.

"Now," I said, "I want to do something purely for my pleasure. I want to watch you endure more rigorous abuse. Your pain will be my pleasure. Of course, I will honor your use of the safe word if you choose to use it."

I walked over to the dresser, reached into the top drawer and withdrew my thin braded leather belt.

Grasping the belt by its buckle, I walked closer to her and swung my arm horizontally to apply a sharp blow to both nipples.

She gasped, but made no other sound.

Similar actions werre repeated nineteen more times, covering top, bottom, and sides of those freely-offered tits. Her only reaction was the changing rapidity of her gasps. She began panting; her breasts rising and falling in beautiful accompaniment to the sounds of the whipping.

When it ended, she continued gasping, but her head remained at attention, and her breasts retained their forward thrust. She didn't even look down at the lovely welts that now decorated those newly pink mounds. Her pain tolerance was magnificent. This told me that there was a lot more intense abuse she could endure in the future.

As I enjoyed this activity, my cock increased its arousal until I felt ready to explode.

Time to attend to its needs. I took off my clothes, stripping for action. I faced her from the center of the room. My cock waved like a conductor's baton.

Her gasps were diminishing to a more normal breathing rate; she was ready for the next demand.

I said, "Release the chain, come and kneel in front of me."

She came to me, dopped to her knees, and looked up, asking for permission to do the obvious. I nodded. She took my cock in her mouth, her lovely lips applying respectful pressure to that rigid rod. I pushed it deeply into that warm receptacle.

I grabbed her head, sinking my hands into those lovely red tresses, and forced her to take me even deeper. Her tongue was doing wonderful caressing of that demanding rod. I let this go on for an arousing few minutes.

The I pulled out, reached down and picked her up into my arms. I grasped her tightly to me, and kissed her roughly.

She responded strongly, and moaned with pleasure.

I carried her to the bed and laid her down on her back with her head hanging over the edge with her arms extended along the edge.

I put my throbbing cock back between her lips, and deeply into her begging mouth. Her tongue resumed its cock worship. I began to rhythmically fuck her mouth, while I slapped her abused breasts with the same rhythm. Then I stopped the slapping, grabbed her nipples and crushed them between thumbs and forefingers.

She gasped, cried, and moaned, while her hips rose and fell, asking that I give attention to her wet and beseeching pussy. I ignored the request. She had to learn that only my needs mattered. I enjoyed watching her aroused agony.

I began rotating her nipple-gripped breasts in sync with my deep thrusts into her throat. I knew I would bring her to climax using only her tits and mouth. I held back my own while her tongue and lips continued to caress the rod that was impaling her.

I felt my cock coming to a climax, and timing it just right, released her nipples, and brutally slapped her breasts just as my load filled her mouth and throat with cum. The accepting and swallowing and the pain of the hard slaps, these manifestations of her submission, triggered her orgasm. I held her in place, my cock still in her mouth, as the aftershocks of that orgasmic earthquake coursed through her body.

I partially withdrew my flaccid cock, and waited while her tongue did its cleaning duty. Once she finished, I turned her, climbed beside her and held her close. We lay on the bed as I held her and applied soft kisses to her welcoming lips. I grasped one breast and, held it gently, and lay my head on her shoulder. We fell asleep.

She woke up before I did. It was Saturday. No need to get up. I slept on.

Her understanding of her place in my world must have been that she should be able to anticipate my desires. She gave evidence that she knew for sure that one thing I liked was to feel her tongue caressing my cock.

She decided to suck me awake. She disentangled herself and carefully turned to take my sleeping cock in her mouth. She sucked it, licked it, running her tongue along the large vein that governed its erection activity. My faithful member responded by growing into its length.

As she began to stimulate my erection toward ejaculation, I woke up from an erotic dream that I slowly realized had followed me into wakefulness. I let out a soft grunt to let her know I was aware. She stopped and started to pull away, in case she had been violating a Dom/Sub rule. I reached down and stopped her head from moving. Then I pushed it back, letting her know she should continue.

I let her do all the work, and when the ejaculation exploded, she had her first morning drink: A healthy organic swallow of my cum.

After she had tongued clean my, now-flaccid, cock, I took her into my arms and held her gently. I then let her lay back with her arms above her head, as my hands smoothly caressed her luscious body. She whimpered as my hands slid over her still-sore breasts, but she did not shrink away from my touch.

The caressing aroused both of us. I was pleasantly surprised that my cock began to grow into rigidity. Her hips began to rotate, her nipples became hard, and she breathing became ragged.

I grabbed a condom and started to put on my armor.

Taking acceptable liberties, she pleaded, "Please. You don't need that. I am protected. I want to really feel you in me."

I stopped, and dropped the condom to the floor.

I wanted the same thing.

I plunged deeply into her, brutally fucking her sweet pussy until we both exploded in climax. She cried and whimpered, screamed, and collapsed into helpless satisfaction.

I rolled off of her, stood up and looked down at her satiated limp body. I felt a sense of wonder that I could be so lucky as to have found and possessed her.

After she recovered, I sent her in to take a long slow shower and get dressed while I fixed (second course for her) breakfast.

After breakfast, I sent her on her way to take care of all of her responsibilities to the outer world. I was satisfied that in our inner world, she was all mine, my caring, submissive Lisa.

Chapter 3

The next time she came to me after a Friday campus event, I sat her down on the living room sofa for a chat. I sat in my favorite easy chair. She was wearing a green silk blouse with her usual blue jeans, and sandals. Beautiful.

I made no demands. I simply enjoyed looking at her. She seemed a little concerned that I hadn't even kissed her. She waited. I finally walked over, tilted her head up and gave her a long hard kiss on those trembling lips. My hands ignored her breasts, and pulled her up to me in a loving embrace. She gasped, and her arms wrapped around me and returned the embrace. We held that clinch for several lovely minutes.

Then I pushed her arms down and stepped back.

"I care for you; don't never forget that;" I whispered. She nodded, still looking puzzled by my tenderness.

"I also like to see you endure pain," I reminded her gently. She nodded, and then spoke in a trembling whisper, saying, "I want to endure the pain of your desires. I am yours."

To hear this competent, brilliant, beautiful girl verbally state her submission to me triggered my cock into quick rigidity. It was hard to hold back, but there was more I needed to say.

I spoke in my firm voice: "Now my desire is to see you react to someone else abusing you, someone who does not care for you, and thus has no inhibitions about it."

She gasped, and with trembling voice, protested: "but I don't want anyone else's attention."

I was stern: "Remember, in our relationship, you have voluntarily given up your right to choose. You, of course, have the power to end the relationship. If you don't exercise this power, what I say is not up for debate. You will do as I say; that is the only way this dominant/submissive relationship will work."

I added, "Take your time; that power has no expiration date: It exists as long as we both shall live."

I wondered if she recognized that I had plagiarized the traditional wedding vows.

She did not speak; she bowed her head, and let her arms hang at her sides. She maintained that pose as if she was waiting for me to explain more. She really didn't need more; her IQ was sky high. She understood her choices.

I didn't say another word. I stood and wondered how she would choose. How much did she want to be owned by me? She had to have no doubts about how much I wanted to keep her. Did that matter? I hoped so, but she was a strong and confident woman. Did she really need my affirmation of her desirability? Did she really want to be, not just a slave, but my slave.

So far, I had pushed my insecurities away, and just enjoyed my incredible luck in having control of this woman. Relaxed and resigned, I waited.

Finally, she began to unbutton her blouse.

I waited while she shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor.

She was wearing a half-bra that barely covered her nipples. It opened in the front, and she made use of that convenience, and let it drop to the floor too.

She put her arms behind her back, and thrust her chest forward.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke in a soft low voice: "I am yours. Do with me what you will."

I took her into my arms and gave her a long and passionate kiss.

I broke off the kiss, stepped back and my eyes devoured her naked breasts.

"I want you to be totally naked before I tell you what is going to happen next." I said softly.

She complied.

My naked slave stood before me, hands hanging down, head slightly bowed, hair caressing her shoulders, nipples erect; another perfect picture of submission.

My throbbing cock wanted to plunge into her, but I first wanted to explain how she was to meet my demand to see her suffer someone else's abuse.

I spoke again softly: "You are my exclusive property. Remember that I am in no way exclusively yours. I do have access to those community subs."

She gave nodded, but remained silent.

I continued: "I have a utilitarian relationship with the one I will use tonight. We are actively but not emotionally involved. I have used her for relief; she enjoys our BDSM activities for what they are--a way to feed her masochism and satisfy my needs. Casual sex with no strings attached. I call her "Oxygen." You should be able to figure out why, if you have done any research into the history and culture of Dom/Sub relationships, which I expect you have done, because your thirst of knowledge in all fields seems to have no limits, and is one of your most attractive intellectual features.

"I have no plans to ever share you with another Dom (Sharing is common practice among Doms nationwide), but I do share Oxygen with several other Doms.

I won't let another Dom use you, but I will use Oxygen to do things to you while I watch. She is essentially a robot, subject to Asimov's Laws: However, this robot that has been programmed to not see subs as human. I am going to call her now.

I called, gave my order, and ended the call.

"She will be here in twenty minutes. You may recognize her, but protocol requires you to not admit it or use her real name. She is "Oxygen" while she is here." If you have figured it out, you may use her nickname. You will have no name; she will call you SUB"

She looked like she wanted to say something; "What," I said.

She smiled, and said, "I am pretty sure I have figured out the nickname."