Chapter 2

“ ... no idea. For all I know, she may be waiting at the door with a beer for me, or shotgun.”

Glancing down, I met Dainna’s eyes, for a moment, and continued,” This is all new ground for all of us. Yeah, I’ve written some stories, but those were total fabrications of my mind.

“And, while you are definitely a wet dream, you’re a person, too. You most certainly are NOT a figment of my fertile imagination. You are a beautiful young lady, and I just cannot figure out why you’d want to tie yourself into any kind of relationship with me, much less be a slave. Or be a slave to anyone, for that matter.

I thought a moment, and added, “Not just a slave to me, but, my wife, too, and you’ve never met her, except on the phone.”

I drove a bit in silence, then said, “What blows my mind the most, is, my wife calling me, and instead of cussing me out, she tells me to bring you home. To say that was not the expected reaction, is a major understatement.

“I’m not going to have you tell me what y’all said in your conversation with her, but you must have said SOME thing to intrigue her.”

Glancing down at Dainna, I noticed a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Now that she was dried out, it was a bit hot, sitting down there on the floorboards. So I said, “Get up here, in the seat, and buckle up.”

“Thank You, Sir,” She responded, scrambling to comply.

As she did, I caught a flash of her naked pussy.

Oh.

Shit!

Instant hard on!

I was tempted. Sorely tempted to just have this girl go face down on my cock, and relieve me of my current stresses.

But, -call me a pussy if you like- without my wifes consent, I wasn’t going to do anything that could jeopardize my marriage.

No way was I going to risk my wife’s wrath by doing anything with Dainna, unless my wife approved, and participated.

As Dainna latched the buckle of her seatbelt, the shoulder strap crossed her chest, between her tits, defining them VERY nicely. I’m no expert, but I’m guessing at this point, a very nice, full “B” cup. A nice pair of hands full, at any rate, standing firm and high on her chest.

Oh, she’s going to be fun to play with, I thought. I really do hope this all works out...

We fell into a rather companionable silence, as I continued the drive home. both of us lost in our own contemplations.

There were a lot of questions going through my mind, but I’d hold them there, until we were home. I’m sure my wife wanted to hear it all, also, and it only made sense to wait.

My mind wandered off onto another tangent, as I began wondering about my own reactions and responses toward this girl.

Why didn’t I tell her to get the Hell out of my truck, before she ever said a word?

Shit! How was it that I’d left the passenger door unlocked? I NEVER leave it unlocked! Why was she able to open that door, and hop in?

Why the fuck did she choose ME, of all people, to want as a Master?

Round and round and round...

If the wipers slapping back and forth before my eyes had any answers, they were refusing to share them with me.

Sigh

What the hell was I thinking, even for a moment, that I could or much less, should- take control of this girl, in spite of her statement of need.

If we DO accept her as a slave, taking her into our household, what was that going to do to my home life?

What about when we have company? Admittedly, we never have over-night guests, except for the kids...

OH SHIT! The kids!

No way we could keep this secret from them, even though they haven’t lived here for years, they still come back for vacations, and holidays. They’d surely figure things out. They are both smart people.

I was gibbering. In my mind, at least. I have a feeling that I might have been making some small whimpering noises, but I hope not.

I needed to distract my mind from these paths, before I had a stroke, or wrecked the truck.

Inspiration struck. “What’s in the suitcase, Dainna?” I asked. “I don’t recall telling you to pack a bag.”

“You didn’t, Sir,” she replied. “But the manager stopped by the apartment, and told me that there was a set out crew scheduled to be there in the morning, and that ours was first on the list, if Momma didn’t pay at least something on the back rent.

“I don’t know where Momma is, so I packed up some of my clothes, my laptop, and a few things that are important to me.”

Dainna shrugged her shoulders, and continued, “Tomorrow morning, I’ll either be with you, or out in the street. There really is no other choice available for me.”

I saw a tear trace down her cheek, as she took a deep breath, then huffed it out.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said, “so I just did what you told me to, and a little bit more. Then I left a note for Momma, and went to wait for you.

“The two guys in that Lincoln tried to get me to go with them, but they just got back into their car, quietly, when Mr. Showboat pulled up.

“Mr. Showboat, he wanted me to get into his car, to wait for you, so I’d be out of the rain, but I told him you said for me to wait where I was.

“Then he offered me a blanket, and his umbrella, but I said I was okay.

“Mr. Showboat, he asked me a whole bunch of questions, about what I was doing, and why, and I think he figured out that I’m serious, and that I know what I want.”

“And just what is it you want?” I asked, lightly.

Dainna didn’t respond, immediately, obviously gathering her thoughts. She glanced at me, a couple of times, and I knew she recognized the seriousness of the question, in spite of the gentle tone I’d used when asking it.

When she did start talking, I was confused, at first, by the direction she took.

“Have you read MWTB’s stories?” Dainna asked.

I’m sure my surprise was written upon my face, but I replied, “Sure. The Favor, Growing up a Master, Tired of Being the Nice Guy.”

She continued, “In growing Up a Master, you remember the girls, right? Of course you do,” she said, answering her own question.

“There are times I want to be Girl. Or, at least Suzi. Cherri, and Kerri have more freedom than I feel comfortable with.

“For example, even if I could, I wouldn’t want the responsibility of buying a place, like Cherri did, near the end. But I don’t want to be given away, like Girl and Suzi were, either. I at least want to be able to say, ‘NO’ if I don’t like the person you were giving me to.