Chapter 6

The first light of morning appeared in the bedroom window as Lord Blackmon stirred. He had always been an early riser but his internal clock had been confounded by his illness. It must have been the familiar sights, sounds and smells of his bedroom that helped it reset. For the hundredth time, he gave thanks for being home again.

His unconventionally large bed supported unconventional sleeping arrangements. Across the foot of the bed he found Page, partially covered with a blanket, still slept. This was a rare moment. Her blonde hair, always styled and perfect, was tied back in a simple ponytail. She had a habit of sleeping on her side with both hands under her face. It made her look even younger. He slowly shifted around in the bed so that he could look closely at her. The night before, they had showered together, his first real shower in a long time. Her hair had been damp and her makeup had been washed off. Now he could see the natural curl of her hair, her face and eyes without adornment, and her expression relaxed.

He leaned in to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered open and she rolled so that he had better access to her lips. There was no demand in the kiss just genuine affection that was reciprocated. He began to place light kisses all around her face. He kissed her eyelids and her cheeks but then moved to her chin and neck. When she tried to speak he silenced her with a finger across her lips. He did not want words to spoil the moment. She placed her hands on both sides of his face, not to guide or protest, just as a place to touch.

When he first kissed her, he felt his cock stir. He had been unable to finish their encounter the night before, but he was not going to miss his opportunity now. There was a brief flurry of movement and he was on top of her and his hard cock was slowly penetrated her sex. He paused there just to continue to stare into her eyes. The joy he saw there made his erection even more ardent. He moved out of her slowly then back in. His first sex in months was unlike any he had experienced with Page before. There was no power exchange, no dominant or master. There was giving from both and receiving from both. As he moved he reveled in the comfort and connection that this was what Page wanted and what he wanted, and they were less than complete without this. With that epiphany and without moving quickly, he exploded inside her.

As he came, he felt her shift under him, rolling him onto his back with her still impaled on his cock. She sat upright and pulled her hair free of the ponytail and let her golden locks fall cross her shoulders. She then leaned down, arched her back, and brushed the underside of her left breast across his lips. He began to slowly kiss and suck on the soft skin of her nipple and just below it. There was no urgency, just a shared intimate moment touching and caressing an intimate place. Her hips moved and she began slowly riding his cock that had never gone down. She brought her right breast to his lips and repeated the same offering to his mouth as before. His hands came to her waist and she picked up the pace of her movements. A moan slipped from her lips as he sucked hard on her nipple. Months of forced abstinence meant before he was really ready he was coming again, pushing his hips up to meet her downward movements. He locked eyes with her and saw the smile on her face. Page moved to the side and slid next to him. As he lay there gasping, he felt her fingernail gently tracing across his softening member. She tried to move again, probably to clean him with her mouth, but he locked his arm around her and made her remain where she was. This was where he wanted her.

It only took a moment for him to doze off again.

The sound of a text message arriving on Carl’s phone woke him. After his encounter with Heather and Willow the night before he had showered then collapsed on the bed. He had left his phone in his pants pocket so he had to roll out of the bed to retrieve it.

There were not many people that had Carl’s cell number. His undercover work meant that he had made some enemies in his career. One of his fears had been a corrupt cop or agent selling him out or setting him up. He had broken contact with almost everyone in law enforcement when he retired just so he could keep a low profile. Those that had his number were people that had earned his trust.

Carl sat on the side of the bed and stared at the message. It was five digits followed by two more. It took him a minute to recognize the contact code and its meaning. Someone was requesting a meet up. He was not surprised he did not recognize the phone number that had sent the message. Agents went through new phone numbers rapidly. But someone he knew and had trusted with his number wanted to meet face to face. The five digits indicated a location while the two digits represented the time.

Carl started looking for his clothes. The location was in the eastern part of the Bay Area. From where he was in the Coastals it would take him at least an hour and a half to drive there.

The meeting was supposed to be in two hours.

Lord Blackmon awoke this time to the full glory of the late morning sunlight streaming in his windows. He rolled over and sat up. He felt better than he had in a long time. The fact that he had just been sexually satisfied for the first time in months played a part he was sure. But he just felt stronger, happier, safer than he had in a long time. His physical condition was much improved, however other things were better as well. The death of Carol had haunted him in more ways than one. He had felt betrayed. His trust of others, never his strong suit, had been badly damaged by her suicide. He had been very moved by Heather’s descriptions of Page and Willow. She had said they were fierce in their loyalty to him. Those words had brought him peace and had filled a void in his heart.

He placed his feet on the floor and stood. His injured left foot felt strong and stable. He took a small step that only resulting is a small pulling sensation from the damaged toes. He flexed the fingers of his left hand. The skin was still very new and the stretching caused a moderate amount of pain, but all in all he was pleased with his overall progress.

At that moment Page stepped out of the bathroom. The sweet young girl that Lord Blackmon had made love to earlier that morning had been subsumed by the elegant sex slave named Page. Her blonde hair had been styled and her makeup was flawless. The bright silver slave collar around her neck held a large ring in the front. Her large breasts were perfectly displayed by the shear body stocking she wore, her nipples trying to press out through the small openings in the fine fishnet-like garment. Her black high heels and black slave cuffs complimented the rest of the ensemble. But the thing that made her the most beautiful to Lord Blackmon was the smile she gave him. “Good morning ... again, my lord.”

He returned the smile. “Good morning as well,” he replied.

“Breakfast will be on the back deck in just a moment. Do you want to wear your robe?”

“No, I want to wear real clothes today, at least shorts and a shirt. Shoes may have to wait yet. Page!” She had turned to get his clothes, but at her name she stopped. Lord Blackmon, still moving slowly to keep from irritating his sore foot, stepped up close behind the blonde and put his hands gently on her shoulders. As tall as she was, he still towered over her by three inches. As the top of her head brushed his chin he could smell her hair, the very feminine essence of shampoo, hair products, and the time and effort women take to look beautiful. “This morning was wonderful. It was healing. It was ... special in many ways. Thank you.”

“My lord, it is good to have you home as well as up and active again,” she replied without turning around.

“You have done so much for me, both while I was gone and since I have returned. What can I do for you? I hope you know I would give you anything, do anything.”

Page slowly turned so that she was looking up at his face. The look on her face was grave. “My lord, please be careful what question you ask. You may not understand or like the answer, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

There was terror in her voice as she looked down and said, “Are you asking that girl that was in your bed this morning what she wants, or the slave that stands before you what she wants?

Lord Blackmon could sense danger here but could not see it. It was such a strange vibe to be getting from Page. “Why do you ask?”

She looked up again. “I ask because they might not have the same requests or the same desires. They, after all, are two very different people. One is selfish and immature and thinks of no one but herself.” Page took ahold of Lord Blackmon’s hands and guided them to the tops of her breast captured in such an enticing way by the body stocking. “The other is your slave, ready to serve you in any and every way commanded.”

“Are they really two different people?”

“Oh yes my lord. The first one would only think of the moment, the ideal, the fantasy. In her irresponsibility she would not consider the wellbeing of the others in her life or the downside of her choices. She would say or do something that would harm or hurt them without a thought or care just to get what she wanted or thought she wanted. On the other hand, the slave would use what she has learned, what she knows, about her master and find a way for her request to strengthen her bond with him. She values security and loyalty so very much that she would do anything to instill those qualities in her circumstance and in the people around her.”

Lord Blackmon was startled to realize how much alike he and Page really were. She valued the sense of stability and by making his casual request he had thrown that sense of security out the window. He had opened the door to her thinking about being free, removed from his house and his life, a prospect that terrified her. She valued loyalty and he had practically asked her to leave him! Dreaming of a life outside of slavery had destroyed Carol. Page was afraid if she ever considered the possibility it would drive her mad the same way. He needed to restore her confidence in him as her master and in her place, even as a slave, in his life. He needed to act like a master that has no intention of ever letter her go, that his passion and desire for her would never allow it. She needed to see that her place was at his feet. He needed to right her world.

He slid his large hands around and grasped as much of her two breasts as he could. He then squeezed hard, crushing her tits in his hands. It was not enough to damage but enough to cause pain, and lifted her up towards his face, forcing her onto her toes. “Slave, tell me ... what do you want?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, “She just wants to know she is needed and wanted sir. She needs to know she has a ... a home where she can serve!”

The hands holding her tits twisted slightly, adding pressure, “The slave said she wants to add to the stability and loyalty of the house. How would she do that?”

Page gasped, “My lord, please allow your slave to serve you and Master Carl at the same time. Let me be your fuck toy that you pass freely to your friend. Show him he has your complete confidence and approval to use me any way he wishes even while you watch. Show him by example how a master treats a sex slave. Take my ass while I suck his cock, then switch back and forth. When it is over I will crawl to him and thank him for using me, fucking me, and being a part of your household.”

Lord Blackmon lifted her a little more, just enough to kiss her deeply.

Pleasanton is about as suburban a town as you can find. Far removed from the grime and crime of San Francisco or Oakland, its small town feel is a haven for the college educated, upper management types that pick where they live by how good the neighborhood schools are. Yet its location means they have ready access to the huge job markets in all of Silicon Valley.

Noise is a good thing when you do not want to be overheard. For covering noise there is nothing like a restaurant filled with high school students on their lunch break. The inexpensive Mexican restaurant near one of the Pleasanton high schools was a good place to meet. It was also a crowd where an adult who tried to remain undetected stood out. Two adults having lunch in the popular taqueria would be able to spot someone that did not fit in.