Chapter 9

John had released her from her stringent bondage after she had fainted. He didn't want to put her through another night of having to sleep standing up. He massaged her wrists and legs with the special soothing lotion he had used before, but, as with the stripes on her back, the marks would last for days, especially those between her legs and cunt lips where the rough rope had rubbed the tender skin almost raw. She was very tender in her nether regions. The salve didn't help when that much of the protective layers of the skin were damaged and the nerves almost exposed.

She stirred on the bed. He stopped what he was doing and went over to stand by the bed. She looked up at him, the focus in her eyes far away. A grin slowly came to her lips when she was able to bring him into focus. He had removed his clothes while he had whipped her and had not bothered to dress after she had fainted. Reaching over to him, she grabbed his prick firmly.

"More," she said. It was neither a question nor a demand.

"More?" John's voice cracked when he spoke, causing them both to crack up.

"You promised."

"I know I did. I just want to be sure you're OK."

She turned a defiant eye to his tender one. "You promised!" she repeated, this time emphatically. "You promised you would fuck me after." She looked up at him and he could see the desperation in her eyes. "Pleeease, Sir?"

He sighed as he lay down beside her on the bed. His hands floated over her body, slowly arousing her, bringing her to the edge repeatedly. His lips suckled at her tits, his tongue flicking over the gold rings. It was a novel sensation for her, and it drove her to the brink as easily as his feathery touches to her raw clit.

When he took her, he treated her with extreme care. It was much too gentle for her taste. She eased her body out from under him and pushed him over on his back. Her sore muscles screamed at her actions but she was determined to have him her way. She lifted her leg up and over his torso and settled down over him, straddling his hips. She froze, squeezing her eyes shut. It hurt so good she almost fainted.

Karin laid her palms on his shoulders and pressed down, resting on her straightened arms. She kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply several times, willing the pain into the background. He lay still under her, his prick nestled between her pussy and his body. She had not yet gotten to the point of sliding back and inserting him into her pussy. Even so, he was amazed at her determination and stamina to get this far. Against his dominant instincts, he decided to let her set the pace this time. He was completely satisfied with their trip so far, having satisfied his darker needs for inflicting pain and domination. The rest of the trip was gravy for him.

With a catch in her breath, she raised her pelvis up off his stomach. She reached beneath her, feeling between their bodies. She carefully positioned the fat head of his cock against the tight opening of her cunt. She pushed back firmly, crying out to the darkened gloom and fully seated herself on his saddle horn. Pleasure mixed with pain flooded her senses as she was filled with his hot pulsing meat.

Karin just sat there for the longest time. This fucking thing was so new to her, and his cock was so massive, she still needed time to adjust to it filling her. When he was inside her, deep and hard as he was now, she could think of nothing else but the feeling of him filling her up. She could feel nothing else. The fullness, the completeness of it pushed all other feelings out of her mind. She blushed as she realized that when he filled her, she became a cunt. Just a cunt. A living, throbbing hole that needed to be satisfied. She could feel his slow steady heart beat through his prick, a drummer in counterpoint to her own rapid beat.

Giving in to her baser urges with a groan, she rocked back and forth on his erection, establishing a rhythm that matched the beat of her inner drummer. John lay passively beneath her, content to be along for the ride. He kept a close eye out for any signs of distress in her, however. His careful surveillance took away a lot from his enjoyment, but he felt responsible to see that she not be injured.

Karin opened her eyes and saw his concerned, but happy face. She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, then his eyes, then his nose and finally his lips. As she kissed him, her dangling tits brushed up against the hairs on his chest. The over-sensitized buds sent thrills coursing through her as she shimmied her shoulders to sway her breasts sexily over his chest as they kissed.

Breaking the kiss, she burrowed her face into his neck. "Thank you," came her muffled voice.

"You're welcome!" he answered then asked, puzzled, "For what?"

She pulled his hands up to cup her breasts, the gold nipple rings burning into his palms form the heat between them.

"For these."

"Oh? Why is that something to thank me for?" He was teasing her, but wanted her to verbalize what she was thinking.

"Because I'll always have these to remember our time together. Even when the aches and pains are gone, I will have these. So, 'Thank You, Sir.'"

"Oh. OK."

"Sir?" she asked a little later.

He nodded for her to continue.

"Sir, I know your name isn't John, but that's OK with me. I really don't need to know. It sort of adds to the mystery." She continued, twisting his chest hairs around her finger. She was fascinated with them. "If you need me, you know who I am and where I live. I want you to know that you will always be welcome there, even if you just want to talk. I'd love to visit the cabin again, anytime you want... or need to." Her fingers dug into his pectorals, emphasizing her last point.

He felt shamed and elated at the same time. He had not planned to reveal his identity to her. It was a sort of tradition. The members of the President's Club had agreed that when they brought 'special' dates, the dates were not to know any of their identities. Special dates, which Karin had been, sometimes experienced unexpected advances from their escorts or the other members, if the escort allowed it. John always made sure each woman he escorted to the annual event knew what to expect before they engaged in anything. He also stopped at the first refusal to continue, but some of the others members of the Club had been known to get a little out of hand. John was a firm believer that 'No' meant 'No.'

He had not heard that particular word on this phenomenal weekend. Karin had refused him nothing, at great cost to her body. He had used her in every way possible. He had marked her with his own nipple rings. Yes, she was a special girl, but not the kind he had thought initially when he had invited her to the ball. He had taken everything from her that he wanted but not given in return. She had nailed his sexual needs on the head and accepted them. Hell, she had encouraged him to break through his own fears about his dark obsessions and to accept it himself. Now she was giving him the future. No questions asked. No demands.

It was an uncomfortable moment for him. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to say something. He was afraid if he did open his mouth, he would end up professing his undying love for her. As much as he felt that was the truth, he was also experienced enough to know that these weekends were highly charged emotional events. What he felt now in the heat of passion he might not feel next week, next month, next year. After all, he had only just met her, and, well...

Oh, SHIT! But the whole spiel sounded just as empty to him the second time when he reviewed it. It was as obvious a rationalization as he had ever heard. He was glad he had not said anything.

John laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Her pussy was still milking his prick as she lay on top of him, watching his inner struggle as it played out on his face. She had hoped, well, that she would at least find out his name. It had been worth a shot. She could always just think of him as 'John' until he decided to tell her his real name. What was important now was that their time together was quickly ending. She wanted to make the most of it.

She latched on to his chin with her sharp white teeth, shaking her head like a playful terrier. With her arms, she grabbed him to her soft breasts. She stretched her legs out straight behind her. Rolling onto her side, a firm grasp on his cock with her hungry cunt, she whispered to him, her manner urgent, "Fuck me, John. Please, fuck me hard!"

He completed the roll she had started and settled her on her back. He leaned on her pelvis heavily, wanting to irritate the raw flesh there. She lifted her knees to her chest to give him even greater access to her pussy, daring him to do his worst, or best, to her. Incited, he reached down, grabbed her ankles and bent them up beside her head. Her positioned lifted her hips off the bed, and put her wet canal in a perfect line with his raging cock. When he drove down into her cunt with all his weight, he bottomed out and stretched the back of her cunt wall to fit the new size.

He kept his promise to fuck her hard, and long. He had come several times over the course of the last three days. Although his prick was rock hard, he felt confident that he was going to be able to draw this last fuck out for a long time.

It turned out to be not as long as he had hoped. Her magical cunt muscles began squeezing and milking his prick as soon as she began to climax. She screamed out her ecstasy with each peak lasting several minutes. Before long, her sexual excitement infected him and he began to pump his final load into her, his rod swelling as he peaked. He grunted and stiffened as she screamed for him to empty his spurting cock into her. Spent, he collapsed on her sweaty body. His deflating prick slipped from deep inside her body. A sweet sadness settled over the two lovers at this touching climax to their time at the cabin. It had truly been a special time. They held each other tightly, even as they drifted into a sound asleep.

John and Karin drove back to the city in sated silence early the next morning. They had made love once more, but it had been almost an anti-climax. The urgency was gone, both of their compulsions had been satisfied, for the moment, at least. John had brought along a loose pair of sweat shirt and sweat pants for her to wear back to the city, correctly guessing that those loose soft garments wouldn't irritate her skin.

Before they had left the cabin, at first light Karin had teased and dared him into the icy waters of the pool. They had skinny dipped like innocent teenagers, splashing and dunking each other with wild abandon before they left for the city. She was strong enough to give him back as good as she got. When he broke through the icy surface, gasping for air after she had dunked him again for the umpteenth time, he cried 'uncle.' Staggering ashore, they collapsed on the bank in peals of laughter. He had never enjoyed himself more at the cabin.

His cellular telephone started ringing as soon as he came into range of a cell tower. That was a bad sign. He had had his secretary reschedule all of his meetings indefinitely. She was one of the few former visitors to the cabin and understood there was no schedule, no timetable for these things. That someone needed him urgently enough to auto-redial his cell phone could only mean a major international client was in big trouble. It had to be as that's all he dealt with were the major accounts.

His mind switched automatically to business mode as he hit the Send button to answer his phone. Karin sat beside him quietly as he drove, listening quietly, not interrupting. She knew she didn't have to tease or pester him for attention like an adolescent would have. She sensed his deep affection for her. When he was ready, when he needed her, he would come back to her. He hadn't said so in so many words, but she knew.

She closed her eyes, listening to his side of the conversation. "... I've been out of town. Personal... No, no, I'm fine. Never better, in fact... Hong Kong?... Ouch!... That bad, huh?... Have my secretary go to my apartment and pack a bag... Yeah, she knows, she's done it before. Knowing her she's already there waiting with it... Yes, she's that good and, no you can't have her... The flight leaves in 45 minutes?... Well, if I push it, I can just make it... Right... Talk to you from Hong Kong."

Just as he finished speaking, they pulled up in front of her apartment. She leaned over, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and said, "Go on now. I know you're in a hurry." She jumped out of the car and closed the door before he could say a word. His mind was already on the disaster he was going to have to deal with when he reached Hong Kong. In the back of his mind he knew there was something he had wanted to say to her before they parted, but she was gone and out of the car before he had a chance to get his mind in gear. He waved good bye to her and grinned as she mouthed 'Thank You' as he drove out of sight.

He was about 10,000 feet in the air when it came to him. "Shit!" he exclaimed, causing the first class attendant to spill a drink on the squalling brat two rows up. He had intended to tell Karin his name. He made a note to tell his secretary to contact her. She would understand. She had been there before.

At the same time the flight attendant was dousing the passenger, Karin was echoing his 'Shit, ' albeit under her breath.

She had walked up to her apartment. The future looked bright. For the first time in her life, she felt loved. She had found a man, her man, and he needed her. She wandered aimlessly around the apartment, running her hands over the leather chair they had put to such good use. She could still see the crusty stains of their mingled cum juices. She found herself in the bedroom, tightly holding onto the homemade whip and absently snapping the clothespins when the knock came at the door.

She opened it with a wide smile, thinking her 'John' had thrown his career out the window and had come back to ride off into the sunset with his true love. The smile faded, as she looked at the two large men in ill-fitting blue suits standing at the door. Each was holding up a badge.

"Mrs. Saunders? Mrs. Karin Saunders?" the taller of the two asked her.

"Yes, I'm Karin Saunders."

"Ma'am, I'm Sgt. Wilson, this is Sgt. Hague. We'd like you to come downtown with us to answer some questions."

Karin had never had any contact with the authorities. She didn't ask why, she didn't even think of refusing. She simply sighed, stepped into the hallway, closing and locking the door behind her and went with the two officers.

An hour later, she sat in the small windowless interrogation room in shock. From the gist of the questions, she had pieced together that something had happened to her husband, Bill. She had been so relieved that it hadn't been John and she was probably a bit obvious in showing her relief. And in not showing too much concern for Bill's welfare.

They kept hounding her and hounding her for where she was the last four days, why had she moved out of the house, who did the apartment belong to, and on and on. The tall man did all the talking. The other one, the older one, just stood against the wall, glaring at her. He scared her.

Sgt. Wilson, the junior of the two officers, was doing all the talking to keep his partner from loosing his badge. Sgt. Hague had known Bill Saunders for over 20 years and considered him a good friend. He had never met the new wife, Karin, until he had picked her up at the apartment. All Bill had ever said to him about their sudden marriage was that it had been a big mistake. He had called her a 'gold-digger.' Bill had jokingly brushed it all off with some raunchy comments about her insatiable sex drive or something, which made everyone laugh and made them a little jealous of him, too.

Sgt. Hague was taking Bill's murder particularly hard. He had not asked to be assigned to the case, in fact, he had tried to explain that he couldn't do a good job because of his friendship with the victim. Their lieutenant, a real hard-assed bitch, had duly noted his concern and assigned him the case anyway. He knew better than to question her decision. The last guy who had dared to challenge her was still writing parking tickets. Not wishing the same fate, Sgt. Hague had thrown himself into the case, and it had solved itself.

A search of the house had revealed a fully stocked woman's closet with most of the tags still hanging from the never-worn clothes. What they didn't find were toiletries, underwear or personal effects. The new young wife was nowhere to be found. A wider search of Bill's properties had turned up evidence of someone living in one of the vacant apartments at one of the company's unused warehouses downtown, but a two-day stakeout had turned up nothing.