Chapter 5

For the next week, she acted no differently. I fetched and carried for her in class and she issued occasional orders for me to run her on errands or take her out. Gwen moved into the house, cutting Peter and my time together to nil.

Much to my surprise, it got to both of us way faster than I expected. Little things that Peter would have spanked me for seem to crop up constantly and it was as if not being able to do it was driving us both crazy. Gwen was not nearly as observant as Peter's last live-in, however, so she didn't catch a bit of it. In a matter a days, it became a game for Peter and I — how long could we keep makin' eyes at each other without Gwen noticing 'fore we slipped downstairs an' screwed around? I actually was getting up to get the basement door key when my phone rang.

"We are going away this weekend. Pack very lightly." Ame hesitated then added, "bring whatever you need to feel comfortable afterwards." She hung up before I could respond. I called her back but it went straight to her voice mail.

I thought about it for a day. Ame never mentioned the call in class or anywhere else and cut me off if I started to ask about it.

Thursday, I got a couple minutes alone with Peter while I cooked dinner. "Ame wants me to go away with her this weekend. She wants me to bring what I need to feel comfortable after. Any idea what the hell that means?"

He frowned, "No. You sure you want ta go?"

"A weekend with Ame? Shit yeah."

"Language."

I grinned, "Fuck off. You ain't the boss uh me."

"Wanna bet?" He leaned against the counter. "Think I can't still kick yo' ass?"

"Can you two be left alone for even a second without fighting?" Gwen wandered into the kitchen and Peter and I stopped flirting. "Honestly, how did you not break anything before I got here?"

"I have no idea, sweetheart." Peter slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek loudly. She giggled and tried — unsuccessfully — to push him away. "But you have definitely made us more civilized."

I went back to cooking and she left the kitchen. After a minute, Peter asked. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. What?"

"Nothin' Sir. Peter." I stopped and faced him. "I like seein' you in love, ok?" I turned back to the stove. "Faggot," I muttered under my breath.

I felt him come up behind me. He pressed against me and moved my hair to kiss the back of my neck. "Yeah, I love you too. I hope she works out." He left. I finished cooking.

Just before bed, Peter knocked on my door. "I think I know what she was talking about." He had that 'this is serious' look on his face. "You an' me, we've always been about control. But some D/s relationships are about humiliation and pain. The sub needs recovery time not just physical. A day to actually be able to walk without crying. Not just band aids, iodine and burn cream. Psychological shit. Not Jessie, Barb." He paused then cleared his throat. "I don't want her doing anything like that to you. You trust her?"

I opened my mouth and stopped. It occurred to that nobody but Peter had ever really hurt me. A couple of girls had teased and poked; but the serious shit — whips, fishing hooks — that shit had all come from Peter. With him, I had no fear. I trusted him with more than just my life.

Ame, however, was not bound to Peter's rules and didn't have Peter's reasons for hurting me — helping me.

"You think, maybe I shouldn't go?"

"I think, maybe, you oughta be damn sure about her if you do."

He sat beside me on the bed and put his arm around my shoulder. "What you wanna do?"

"I-" Gwen tapped on the door.

"Hey, everything ok in here?" I knew she was trying to be nice but I didn't need her right then.

Peter cleared his throat then switched to command mode. Gwen may not have recognized it yet, but she learned it later and fast. "Gwen. Go on to bed. I'll be in shortly."

"Is everything ok? I wouldn't-"

"Fine. Personal. You don't need to worry. This is an Alex thing. Good night."

She looked a bit put out when she closed door.

"Sorry," he said and moved a hair out of my face. "Do you want to do this?"

I take a breath. I hadn't been scared about this stuff since that first night at Uncle Julius'. I tried to think of all the things she could do to me and twin rushes of fear and lust whipped through me. "Oh God. Yeah. Sir, Peter, I know you want me ta be safe an' dude, I love you for it, but I don't care if she kills me, I wanna feel every excruciating minute of it."

"I doubt she gonna kill her ride home. I'm worried 'bout you comin' home scared for life by some emotional mind fuck."

I smiled at him. "Ain't nothin' she kin do, you can't undo. She just unother cunt — you own me."

He held me tightly then kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep."

"Yeah, you too."

Friday, after class, Ame gave me an address in Shenandoah. It took about three silent hours to get there. We stopped at a secluded cabin in the woods. It had a phone, and electricity and not much else. There was an eat-in kitchen, which was nice because judging by the nearest neighbor, delivery would have been damn slow. There were only three rooms: the kitchen, the bedroom and the living room. The living room had a couch and loveseat, a fireplace and a hot tub. The bedroom had a king-size bed and not much else.

"Get the bags from the car," she told me, "and put them in the bedroom." I obeyed. I had only brought a shoulder bag with two clean shirts and two pair of briefs. Ame brought three full-sized suitcases. She stood in the door as I put down the last one. "Put the blue one on the bed. Then strip."

I froze, not quite sure I heard her. "Come again?"

"Was your last mistress in the habit of repeating herself?"

"No Ma'am." Not often, at least. Strip. "Yes, Ma'am." I put the case on the bed and took off my clothes.

"Face the window and kneel." I did that too. Behind me, I could hear the case opening. "Have you ever been bound?"

Oh my sweet lord Jesus. "No Ma'am." I tried to keep my voice steady; to not show how excited and in honesty how scared I was. Mr. Happy did not want to cooperate and I had a raging hard-on but I couldn't do anything about that.

She pulled a leather mask over my head. There were small holes so I could breath and hear but there was no way for me to see or speak.

"Say 'peanut butter'." she ordered. I said it. "Again. Fine. I can hear you. Stand up." She walked me a few steps to ... somewhere else. "When you are with me, this is how you will be — naked and masked. Even when you are dressed, in public, you will behave with me as if you are naked and masked. I will abide, temporarily with your request for no permanent marks because, frankly, I don't think you will last the entire weekend. I will also honor your safe word — again, for the time being. You may say 'peanut butter' at anytime and I will stop what I am doing. That, however, is the only thing you may say until I give you permission to speak. If you understand and agree, put your hands behind your back, and we'll begin."

I hesitated for a second. Not because I was unsure, I wasn't. Mentally, I said goodbye to Peter. I knew this would change me - change us. I put my hands behind my back.

Ame bound me - I found out later, that the method she used was Japanese - but she used one piece of rope and managed to link my wrists, ankles, neck and abdomen. Shifting any of them more than half an inch, constricted the others. She left me tied for days it seemed. I could hear distant movement but nothing I could identify. The mask became hot and sweaty very quickly. After a while, I started to cramp. Every time I tried to stretch, I choked myself. "Shit!" I swore.

Almost instantly, something searing hot pressed against my foot. I swore again and it was pressed against both feet. I bit my lip and forced myself not to swear a third time. Unbelievably, my dick twitched. My legs cramped badly and I simply groaned rather than choke myself again or disobey the no talking rule. I mistakenly let two other words slip out and was rewarded with two more searing touches. If this were Peter, after the second, I would have begged him to let me cum. Since I couldn't ask, I just held back and whimpered.

At some point, she tugged the bonds and I hissed. "You may say one word. What hurts most?"

"Legs." It was an easy answer; they were cramping so much, I was considering saying peanut butter over it.

She released my legs and massaged them gently. I moaned but I wasn't sure if it was relief or bliss. Not until her hand grabbed my nuts and yanked. I dry came, convulsing helplessly.

"Well, that was unique." She observed blandly, when I stopped shaking. "Explain. What was that?"

"When I hold back, sometimes, I cum but without the j-" language I reminded myself "-ejaculate."

"Can you orgasm on command?"

Oh shit, now that's uh skill. "No Ma'am. I can't cum - orgasm - without permission. My old Dom wann'd me ta learn control. We didn't know 'bout dry cummin' 'til it started happening."

"So she told you before hand if you had permission or not?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I had ta beg for it."

"She made you beg for it." she sounded intrigued. "Now there's an idea. The next time you think you're going to orgasm, say 'jelly'. I may let you beg for it. Now, what's this?" Something sharp pointed against my sac.

"It look like uh scar where uh nail was pushed through?" I asked.

"Yes."

I nodded. "It's the scar where a fish hook was pushed through."

"I thought no permanent marks."

"It was kinda an accident. We were fooling around below deck an' hit uh storm. I was trying to talk him into sticking me with the thing an' we both got knocked over. I'm just lucky it went in the skin 'steada my nut."

"Alright. Stand."

Conversation has ended, I guess, I thought and stood up. My legs were a little tingly but not bad. She pulled my arms and I hurried to keep up with her or choke. I could hear the crackling of the fireplace and felt the warmth on my lower half. Something behind me clicked. Then I heard the snap of a whip. I shivered. Peter only whipped me once — too much risk of scaring. Several tendrils of a leather cat-o-nine popped against my legs. Not hard enough — not nearly hard enough — but it made me quiver anyway.

Ame whipped my back and sides, hard enough to sting. I figured I would probably have some welts by the time it was all said and done.

Then I felt the whip on my dick.

"Jelly." I said.

"You want to climax when I do this?" She whipped my dick again.

"Jelly." I swallowed hard. If she did that again, I wasn't sure I could hold back.

"Ok, beg me." she pulled at the mask and a mouthpiece opened.

"Oh, God please let me cum. I'm so close. You do that again Ima cum anyway. I'll be good. I promise. Please. I'll do anything you want."

"You'll do that anyway." Her voice was deep and breathy. "Enough. From now on, you may orgasm at will. I will let you know before we begin if you have to beg for it." She re-sealed my mouth and hit my dick twice hard with the whip.

I whimpered knowing that the next hit would send me over the edge. It didn't land and I took the respite to try to pull back. The longer I last, the more games we could play, I thought.