Chapter 18: Lisa Leaves

It was three days to Christmas as Andy, Mary, Lisa and I drove in the Bronco from Aspen. Thanks to the Colorado Highway Department, the roads were clear with mounds of snow packed along side, but I kept the truck in four wheel drive. We stopped at the ranch in Glenwood Springs, then in Vail to get Lisa’s possessions. We were taking her to the Denver airport.

Lisa was leaving us.

Mary and Lisa had been discussing it for three days now. Lisa finally explained it all to me, punctuated it with tears and hiccups. She had never been away from her family over Christmas. She wanted to go home. She missed them. The big question was whether she wanted to come back. She had changed from a near-virgin bitch to a slave in a fortnight. I knew she was reeling inside, not knowing what was best for her. Was it best to stay in LA and finish college? Or, to return to us?

As we drove and talked, Lisa absentmindedly fingered the leather collar around her neck, the symbol of her situation. That collar had caused her embarrassment, stern glances from passerbys, questions from those too selfish not to intrude on her life or too aroused by the sexual thoughts of Lisa’s servitude to restrain themselves. But, it also had brought her pleasure, a sense of sexual security and belonging, such as when a chain attached to it coupled her to my bed at night. It was a constant reminder of those activities which she loved.

Shortly after she came with us, I realized I had missed the so subtle signals she had given when we were dating, signals saying she wanted to be taken this way. Only when she saw Andy did her desires become visible to me.

I knew Mary and Andy would do anything I told them to do. More than that, they eagerly sought ways to please me, thinking of what I needed before I told them. No surprise. They were kittens and had been programmed that way. Lisa was different. She was unprogrammed, giving herself voluntarily, submitting to the control of another. Of three others really, since Mary, Andy and I all treated her as our slave. Yet, she too, gave happily and eagerly, wanting to please.

So, how was her voluntary slavery different than Mary and Andy’s programmed state? I had tried to determine the difference. When Lisa first joined us, she seemed to be more wary, untrusting, with a conscious knowledge of the depth of her surrender. The kittens trusted totally. Envision three people standing on the edge of a cliff. You yell “jump.” Two grin and jump without hesitation. The third looks at you wide eyed, takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and tentatively steps off. That was the basic difference.

But, by now, Lisa’s level of trust had risen so even this difference was small.

I remembered the first time I bound her tightly. It was a simple binding. Lisa was kneeling, her ankles crossed behind her and bound, her knees tied apart by rope attached to the furniture. Her arms were drawn behind her, tied at wrists and elbow to hold them straight and thrust out her breasts. Clover clamps attached to the post in front of her were on each nipple. Her clit hood ring was leashed to the post, also. She was blindfolded but not gagged. I wanted to communicate with her.

It was Mary who talked me into binding Lisa that first time, telling me Lisa wanted to be carried deeper into her submission, wanted to surrender this way to me. When Lisa was bound, I instructed Andy to discipline her.

“No,” she mouthed without speaking, shaking her head slightly. No surprise. When we were being trained by Mistress Diana, Andy clearly was not a dominant.

Why, you ask, did Andy disobey an order? Is she not programmed?

I did not give her an order. If I had said, “Andy, I order you to... “or “Andy, you will... “ she would have obeyed. What I said was, “Andy, would you like to... “ giving her the opportunity to respond. I often addressed both Andy and Mary that way. As I said, what man wants a Porsche without an engine. And, what point in having an engine if you do not use it.

Mary wanted to assume Lisa’s training, but this time I did it.

Lisa was moaning, enjoying the pain of the tension in her muscles and the pulls on her nipples and hood when she tried to ease the tension. We talked, me delving into her mind, she responding as a good little slave. I had learned more about her and her needs in that short time that I had learned in the years we dated. As important, I learned something about myself and power. Lisa happily surrender to me and her pleasure.

“Sweetheart, I need to go to the bathroom,” Andy said, bringing me back to the present. We stopped in Vail at a hamburger joint for some burgers, drove by the Vail house to get Lisa’s things which were there and were on the road again.

“Well, Lisa are you coming back to us?” I asked as we drove through Eisenhower Tunnel.

“Do you want me to?” Another difference between a slave and a kitten was security. The kittens never questioned I was part of their lives. They were very secure in me as their ever present master. Lisa was afraid, unsure. By now, I knew that fear was not part of her thrill. She needed the security of knowing she was mine. The insecurity she relished came from not knowing what I would do to her.

“Yes, but, it will be different. I will be more harsh with you, more demanding, if you return.”

“I ... I don’t know,” she whispered, looking away. I saw Mary’s expression, a sad, knowing, caring look. “We want you back, Lisa,” Mary said. Andy stroked Lisa’s face, pushing the coal-black hair back in a loving gesture. The three of them whispered as I again drifted off in my own thoughts, only to come back to the present in the traffic around the airport.

As I killed the engine in the parking lot, Mary unlocked Lisa’s collar. “No. Please, let me keep it,” Lisa whispered, stroking her neck where the collar had been, missing its feel. I knew what needed to be said.

“Look at me!” I snapped. Lisa stared, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Lisa, I want you to be a slave to us. All three of us want it. But, you need to understand. It will be difficult, painful, humiliating agony. It will be total and complete submission, without any compromise. I will make permanent changes in you - breast implants, branding. (She gasped) There will be no quarter. It will be readily obvious to everyone who sees you that you are a slave submitting to a demanding master. Even your parents and friends in LA will know. If you wish this, return here no later than January 1 to begin your new life. If not, we all hope you will be happy doing whatever you will be doing.”

The silence was deafening as tears rolled down Lisa’s cheeks. “I understand,” she said. Mary’s eyes searched my face. She knew I was wrestling with my own needs and wants as it pertained to each of them and all the others. I had demanded Lisa give me full power over her. Power. Why did I want her to surrender so completely? Was the devil dog biting my ass? Or, was it just good, clean fun for all of us.

Mary was right. I analyzed things too much, and sometimes with no result.

We all carried Lisa’s bags to the check-in and walked her to the gate. It was a typical family departure, tears and hugging as we said our goodbyes. Mary took my arm as we walked away after she boarded. “She will be back,” she said.

“Where now?” Andy asked when we piled back into the Bronco.

“I think we need a bigger vehicle,” I replied.

I drove to a Chevy dealer, haggled a little, and drove away in a new, fully loaded, four- wheel drive, cherry red Suburban. Mary drove the Bronco which we were going to keep. I offered to put the car on my MasterCard, but the dealership called my bank and accepted a check. It was nice being rich.

It was about five in the afternoon. I decided to stay in Denver overnight and checked us into the presidential suite at the Brown Palace, Denver’s finest hotel. We went shopping, picking up some last minute things and enjoying the festivities of Christmas time. The kittens were dressed in high-gloss, polished leather boots, skin tight pants and big, baggy sweaters that hinted at as much as they hid. They had stylish, fur rimmed hats with their long blonde hair flowing in the breeze. We got a lot of looks.