© Copyright 2003

I waited for Jada - Goddess Jada - in baggage claim at the airport. I grinned at the stares of the other passengers as she strode through the crowd, parting them like the Red Sea, in her leather halter and mini-skirt, belly ring glinting in the overhead lights, leather boots clomping loudly on the concrete floor. Neither her stride nor her expression changed when she saw me, but she made a beeline in my direction, never slowing until her large, firm breasts flattened against my chest. Without a word, she threw her arms, purple flogger and all, around me, wrapped a booted leg about mine and kissed me passionately as she ground her pelvis against mine.

Finally breaking the kiss, but not the embrace, she husked, "I sure would love to have YOU in your dungeon tonight!"

"Not my scene," I grinned, "but if you like, I can arrange for you to service my dogs, repeatedly, for the entire length of your stay!"

She finally disentangled herself from me, tossing her shoulder-length auburn hair back and laughing, "Tempting, but not my scene, either!"

We chatted about people we knew in common as we retrieved her luggage - one ordinary Samsonite suitcase, and a large, flattish, black leather case.

"I see you brought your 'toolbox'!" I said, as I lifted the surprisingly light case off the carousel.

Her voice carried only a hint of Texas twang as she replied, "Just brought a few essentials - and this!" she indicated the ubiquitous purple flogger by giving it a flick.

By the time we got near the house, we had pretty much caught up on the backlog of who was doing what to or with whom, and I could tell Jada was getting a little fidgety, but I let her stew, just to see if she'd come right out and ask.

The silence dragged for a while, punctuated by an occasional brief observation or question about the passing countryside. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer.

"Well?" she asked.

"'Well?' what?" I knew perfectly well what she wanted to know, but I played it out.

"Tell me about this doctor, Dickhead!" she almost shouted, "When do I get to meet him? What does he look like? What's his thing?"

"Well, actually," I enjoyed baiting Jada, because she had a really short fuse, but her anger never lasted long, "I've set you up with Dr. Miller. Dr. Dickhead wasn't available. You'll see him tonight, at which time, you'll SEE what he looks like. His 'thing' is a penis - like most men's 'things'."

Jada whacked me across the arm with her flogger, my leather jacket absorbing the blow harmlessly. Looking at her muscular arms, I appreciated how much she had taken off that swing.

"You know what I mean, Dickhead!" she exploded "What's he into? What's his scene?"

"Mostly," I replied, stringing her along a bit further, "he's into medicine. His scene is usually his examination room."

This time she hit me with her fist. Had I not flexed my shoulder muscles, I would have had a pretty good bruise.

"No use trying to seduce me," I laughed, "I told you, I'm not into that!"

Jada glared at me for a few seconds, then her face lost its tension and she began to laugh. "You always did know how to push my buttons! But come on, Mike, give me something to go on with this guy! I could take him by brute force, but I want him to submit to me voluntarily, and I can get to that easier if I know something about him."

I finally relented. "Ok, Ok! His 'thing', basically, is being abused. He's bi and doesn't care about the gender of the abuser. He's got a lovely wife, Anna, who knows about this side of him but doesn't participate in it."

"On a cautionary note," I continued, "he is the only medical help in the area, and so is on-call twenty four hours a day. As a result, he cannot be incapacitated or injured in any way that will interfere with his work."

I fixed her gaze with mine, "I mean that, Jada. We depend on the Doc out here. I've seen your 'work' and while I trust you, I'm not absolutely certain that you will remember the limits when you're in the throes of passion, so I'm going to act as referee, ok?"

She tried to look hurt, but couldn't carry it off. When I raised an eyebrow, she laughed and nodded, "Ok, Mike! I promise not to hurt your doctor!"

"No, no!" I replied, "He'll be very disappointed if you don't hurt him! Just make sure you don't INJURE him!"

Jada shot me a withering glare, but nodded her agreement.

When we got to the house, I introduced Jada to Czar and Caesar, my part Timber-wolf dogs, and helped her get settled in the guest room. I put an early supper on and showed her around the dungeon. She was duly impressed by the remotely operated, hidden door at the back of my pantry.

Dr. Miller called, sounding somewhat nervous, as we were finishing dessert, and said he was on his way. A few minutes later his HummVee (the first model, built for rugged off-road work, not the glorified SUV) pulled up into the yard.

Jada met him at the door, an imposing figure in black leather, standing legs apart, fists on hips and a scowl on her face.

She didn't say anything as I introduced them, but stalked up to the doc, the platform soles and six inch heels of her boots boosting her five feet, eight inches high enough that she looked down at him. She stood a few inches from his face, sneering down at the trembling doc, then slowly stalked around him, trailing the flogger around his neck as she went.

When Doc made as if to turn with her, she struck him sharply across the back with the whip.

"Eyes front, worm!" she barked.

The trembling doc snapped back to his original position.

Jada trailed a hand between his legs, squeezing his package from the rear. "Not much there, is there boy? Good thing that's not what I want from you!"

"I guess he'll have to do." Jada winked in my direction, letting me know she was pleased.

She wrapped her flogger around his neck and led the doc down the stairs to my dungeon.

"What's your safeword?" Goddess Jada queried imperiously.

"Flatulence, Mistress!" Doc practically shouted.

Jada raised an eyebrow and asked, "What!? Are you going to fart when you've had enough?"

"No, Mistress!" Doc answered, "It's the word 'flatulence'. I'll say the word, 'flatulence'!"

Jada gave him a dubious look, then shrugged.

"From this point on, worm," she shot at him, ice in her voice, "if I deign to allow you to address me at all, you will address me as 'Goddess'!"

She ordered him to strip, and tapped her toe impatiently as Doc struggled out of his clothes.

When the doc knelt at her feet, his rigid cock signalling his appreciation for Jada's treatment, the auburn-haired amazon reached into her little bag of tricks and pulled out a long, crystal clear, lucite rod about the diameter of a pencil. One end was shaped into a ring. The other end was a ball that was slightly larger in diameter than the shaft of the rod.

She dropped it into a container of alcohol I used for sterilizing some of my tools and asked me to help restrain her toy on his back on one of the benches. This particular bench had stirrups much like a gynecologist's table, except the straps attached to the stirrups could be fastened to prevent the subject from moving his or her feet.

Jada taunted Doc as she fastened the footstraps. "This position ought to be familiar to you, huh, boy? Bet you've had a lot of women spread their legs like this for you!"

I finished cuffing the doc's hands above his head, and Jada snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. She opened a tube of sterile lube and shoved the tip of it into the trembling doctor's pisshole.

"Wh-what are you going to do, Goddess?" Doc looked like he was about ready to soil my bench.

"Ever been catheterized, Doc?" Jada asked conversationally, as she squeezed almost the entire contents of the small tube into the submissive doctor's dick.