Chapter 2: Guy Brings His Slave Home

Eight hours later bought them to a smooth landing at Newark Airport in New Jersey in America.

"C'mon, Fuschia!" Guy urged. "Hurry up!"

"Yes, sir," Fuschia gasped as she lugged the heavy bags through the airport terminal to the monorail station.

Guy smiled at the occasional bystander who gawked at the ordinary-looking fellow being followed by a halfway-naked slut lugging his bags for him.

Taking their seats, Fuschia leaned against Guy as the monorail train lumbered slowly down the track from terminal to terminal, and finally away from the airport. Five minutes later, the monorail stopped again at the Amtrak station on the Northeast Corridor Line a couple of miles from the airport.

Guy then bought an extra train ticket for Fuschia, checked their baggage, and saw that the next train to Schenectady didn't leave for another two hours. Guy considered that it had been too long since his cock had been down Fuschia's throat. Alas, there was nowhere sufficiently private, and they were still three hours from his house by train.

"Are you hungry?" Guy asked his slave woman.

"Yes sir," she said.

They found a restaurant in the station where they had a quick meal. Then, an hour later, they were waiting on the platform for their train.

A train to Washington DC stopped briefly on the southbound track, then their northbound train arrived shortly after.

Upon taking their seats, the train sped ahead and arrived in New York City a few minutes later. The train held over in New York for about a half-hour before leaving the station and heading north through Manhattan--the heart of New York City. Crossing the Harlem River brought them through some woods and then the train broke out into a scenic vista along the eastern shore of the Hudson River. The hours passed uneventfully as the train sped northward at breakneck speed while the scenery turned more and more rural. Then, just as the scenery began to turn more urban again, the train pulled into the Rensselear Station.

Guy's car was waiting for them in the long-term car park under the station, and it was another half-hour drive to his house.

By the time they got in the door, it was past midnight and Guy was exhausted from their travels.

"We're taking a quick shower and hopping into bed, Fuschia," he told her.

Fuschia yawned and said, "Yes, master. Let's."

Under the warm water, Guy drew Fuschia close and kissed her, then told her to wash him. Then he did the same for her. He kissed her again, and led her to bed, still naked from the shower.

"Ah! It feels good to be home in my own bed again!"

Snuggling in bed, Guy mounted Fuschia in eager anticipation of moments to come when Fuschia once again asked, "Master?"

"Yes?"

"Please give me an orgasm tonight! Please, master! Please!"

Guy yawned, "I'm tired and I just want to bang you quick and go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow."

"Yes sir," she said softly.

He reached down, expecting to have to work her wet this time, but was surprised yet again to plunge his fingertips into moist flesh.

"My word! Are you wet constantly, wench?"

"I need release, master!" she panted. "I haven't had release at the hands of a man for weeks, and I've been just so randy since the day you bought me."

Guy paused in thought for a moment, then got off her.

Fuschia sat up quick. "Master! Did I say something wrong?"

"Not at all, my sweet slave! A hot shower will often do wonders to invigorate a man's libido. You're about to get your request serviced." He added with a chuckle, "But you may wish you hadn't."

Guy removed a large black satchel from a closet by his bed and, after rooting around for a moment, removed several lengths of light rope.

Approaching the bed from the side, he tied one of each of four lengths of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then tied her spread-eagle to his brass bed frame, stretching her arms and legs out tightly.

"Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still one more rope in his hand. "What will you do with that one?"

Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting off her air. He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-stricken gaze. With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs and ever so gently licked along the seam between her labia without parting it with his tongue.

Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained in choked silence. Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly more pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up over the opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this way, but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she suffocated, he moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little nub into his mouth.

Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he licked and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of her juices at the same time.

Then, sucking on it like a lolli, he drew it in and out, and in and out, bringing her ever closer to climax.

It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a time, which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began bucking with every twitch of his mouth. What a rush to be in direct control over a woman's orgasm this way! To be able to play her clit like a trumpet!

Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body. Her complexion had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and failed to focus while she rolled her head from side to side.

Guy quickly untied the rope. Fuschia immediately began sputtering and coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into her where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do so.

The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made for an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily. Sucking on her genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he exploded inside her with little effort.

At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon her once again.

Come morning, Guy yawned while lying upon Fuschia in her first morning in America. She was still tied, spread-eagle, to his bed while he lay upon her. He was horny again, as he often was in the morning, and reached down between her legs to feel how eager she was to be penetrated yet again. He was no longer surprised to find his fingers suitably wet.

Fuschia smiled as he wrapped his fingers around her throat and he pushed his hips down and entered her. It was so much more satisfying to be fucking his slave in his own large bed than in some single bed in a tiny hotel room. Feeling his cock slide in and out of her soaking pussy brought him ever closer to orgasm while she slowly turned blue. Her wrists and ankles bound, forcing her to endure whatever indignity and risk to her life that he chose, added to the thrill such that he exploded into her without much effort.

He released his grasp from her neck and lay upon her as the thrill of his orgasm subsided.

After a bit of a sleep-in, he rolled off her and climbed out of bed. Feeling hungry, he headed out of the room. He grabbed that manila folder with Fuschia's papers in it as he left.

Fuschia asked in a meek voice, "Master? Are you going to leave me like this?"

Without turning to face her, he said, "Yeah. I might want to fuck you again later." He exited the bedroom and went downstairs to cook some bacon and waffles for breakfast.

Putting his feet up on the coffee table, he began searching through that envelope while eating and sipping a cup of Earl Gray tea that he had bought at Harrods. He flipped through her British passport, and studied the photo on her driver license for a few moments. Then he pulled out a document that looked like a detailed resume. "Curriculum Vitae," it was titled. Ah, he thought, This is that CV. What the British call a resume. Though it was far more detailed than any resume he had ever seen. Reading through it, he followed her career doing legal work involving her local fire brigade. Hmm, didn't the auctioneer mention something about a fire brigade?

He slid the documents back into the folder and clicked on the TV whilst he nibbled on a slice of bacon, whereupon he found a Star Trek marathon on Spike TV to enjoy his breakfast by.

By the end of that one episode, he was, indeed, horny again. He wondered if he could actually come again so soon, but that mattered not, for he had wanted to try so many of his homemade toys for so long, and now that he had a slave to use however he saw fit to use her, the time was nigh.

During the station break, he returned upstairs, walked around the bed to that special closet once again, and rooted through his toy bag until he found an item made of numerous leather straps and rings. He removed a heavy leather collar with various rings and attachment points mounted upon it. The collar had a somewhat peculiar small rectangular box attached to it, covered in leather, with a tiny padlock hanging from it. He also extracted an adult incontinence diaper from a package that he had purchased from a medical supply store that he had purchased for just this occasion.

Turning to face her, he looked down at her tied to his bed as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Master? I need to use the loo! Please, Master!"

"In a moment," he answered held the collar up for Fuschia to see, though she was still tied spread-eagle onto his bed.

Two small metal prongs passed through the leather under where the leather box was mounted. Two metal strips, attached to those two prongs, ran parallel along the inner surface of the collar.

Fuschia swallowed at the sight.

Guy said, "Back in London, some bloke was selling an electric slave collar something like this. Remember?"

"Yes, Master. At the Camden Town market."

"But mine's better!"

"How so, Master?" she squeaked.