Chapter 4

We lay there, as if death himself had claimed us, for quite some time. Eventually, the Earth had moved such that the sunshine through the window struck my eyes, and I awakened.

Until you are really awake, it is not so easy to disentangle yourself from the bound embrace of your sex slave. Particularly so when you abruptly realize that you REALLY need to urinate. That inelegance, of course, awakened Sandra, and when she realized that she, also, needed to use "the little girls room". (or, given her earlier persona, would that be "the little hostages room"? Or, perhaps, "the little submissive's room"? Either way, with this cabin, it was the same facility as "the little dominant's room", and there was a bit of a traffic problem!)

I elected to use the shower, and accomplish two tasks at once. Sandra won that coin toss, I removed the snap link and her dog collars, and she enjoyed the throne.

Finishing, she joined me in the shower. As she slipped into my arms beneath the hot water, she nuzzled me. "That was quite the fuck you threw into me. I don't know if it was the build up, or the technique, but I certainly thought it was worth the wait. What's on tap for the balance of the evening?"

"Well, dinner for one. I see us lolling around the cottage for the evening, early to bed, then some adventures tomorrow. Have you had enough of the frightened slave girl, for a while?"

She gazed away, deep in thought for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose I have. I enjoy the tingle I get when you take control, but I also like simply spending time with somebody. A girl likes to be cuddled, as well as feeling possessed. Tonight is a good time for cuddling."

Understanding a good idea when I heard it, we finished our leisurely shower, and dressed. Well, OK: I dressed, Sandra stayed naked. (I really love the scenery in Northern Michigan!) I retrieved our luggage from the truck, and put away the groceries. Sandra prepared our dinner while I laid the fire in the fireplace, and set the table.

After dinner, we lazed about, gazing into the fire, and savoring the warmth each of us brought to the other. With the sunset, a chill had descended upon the cabin. Sandra had dressed in sweats, and I wore my usual jeans and flannel shirt.

"Mark", Sandra began, "I have some thoughts about tomorrow."

"What sort of thoughts?", I replied.

"Well, you got me tremendously excited today, when you stripped me and we drove up here. I've never done anything like that, before. Really, I cannot imagine doing something like that on my own initiative. Once you compelled me to do it, I got so hot, imagining who might be seeing me, and how they might react. I know you think I'm cute..."

I interrupted her: "No, you are beautiful!"

She smiled at me. " ... You think I'm beautiful, but imagining men drooling after me, while you are there to keep things from getting out of control, well, it's the sort of thing a girl thinks about, but really doesn't think she can take the risk. We are brought up to think that men lusting after you is creepy, and without a guardian, it is, as well as risky. It's as if I could almost say, 'You can look at me, you can desire me, but you cannot have me, and this guy here will make sure of it. I'm his.' That is exciting to a girl. Prideful, sort of."

She paused.

"I want that feeling again. I want you to make me feel that way again, please."

I contemplated a moment. "OK, I can make that happen. You certain?"

"Oh, yes. I'm very sure."

"OK, I'll make it happen for you. You need to realize that it may not happen at the time, or in the way you expect." She snuggled into my arms, almost purring. I considered tomorrow, and how I might accomplish her goals.

Shortly, we shook ourselves awake, and retired to bed. Naked, we embraced, and caressed ourselves to arousal. I braced myself over her and she slotted my crown at her entrance. Anointing my hardness with her oils, she pulled my length into herself. I seated myself fully inside her, and paused to enjoy the tight warmth she spread along me. Languidly, we stroked each other, making love of a sort, rather than frenetically chasing release. She rippled her pussy along me, and I probed her grotto, each seeking to bring the other off before ourselves. I kissed and sucked each nipple in turn, and she arched her back in response, driving herself more fully onto me. She curled her pelvis upward, and retreated, so as to control the pace of our coupling. I busied myself with teasing and nursing at her breasts.

Soon, the arousal became too much for us, and we accelerated our joining. I stroked into her moist pleasure palace, and she rippled against me. Once her breathing deteriorated into gasps and whining, I picked up the pace, and nearly thrashed her with my scepter. She climaxed at about the same time as did I, and we jointly wound down from the peak. I collapsed at her side, and in doing so disengaged from her. She maintained her grasp around my chest, and we drifted off to sleep.

My sleep was dreamless, it seemed, for some time, until I became aware of Sandra, dreaming about our day.

As if I were an observer inside her head, I "saw" her reliving scattered vignettes of our trip. As if I were privy to her emotions, I could "feel" her excitement as I directed her to remove her blouse and I secured her hands. I felt her pussy moisten (and, guys, it is a lot more like a hardening cock feels, than you might imagine. As the moisture collected, her heartrate accelerated, and she began to experience a tingle, spreading from her loins to her breasts, and eventually the entirety of her skin. No wonder women are capable of multiple orgasms! In the proper circumstances, their entire skin is a sexual receptor!)

Once the glasses and headphones were seated upon her head, the sensory deprivation seemed to focus her attention upon her hardening nipples and swampy puss. I felt her restlessness. She seemed to vibrate with anticipation of my next move.

In one of those scenery changes that only make sense in a dream, the next experience Sandra relived was the sound of a vehicle horn, and mens' voices shouting and catcalling. She felt a frisson of excitement, and her nipples tightened again, re invigorating the whole body tingling that had started to fade. I could feel her shame, mixed with excitement at eliciting lust in strange men, as well as pride (justifiable) in her body's ability to produce arousal. She sat up a little straighter, drew her shoulders back, and posed for her "admirers". I "felt" her sex become a swamp. It was a revelation how stimulating she found submitting to me, and exposing her self at my command, to be.

In her dream state, she reflected over my stripping her at the roadside. I could feel her sliding over the seat, the chilly startle to the cold breeze at the roadside. I could experience her feeling overwhelmed at the blindfolded stripping of her skirt and panties outside the truck. Her ambivalence regarding being naked in public, versus the thrill of submitting to me, was delightful to experience.

Once secured again in the truck, her anxiety about being seen increased, particularly once we were underway again. I could feel her face become warm again, as if her blush were a heater. When she felt my arm around her shoulder, I noted her anxiety diminish. As she felt her nipple being teased, a different sort of excitement became more prominent. This only peaked once she discovered that I had bound her so effectively with her seatbelt over her snaplink.

She shivered, and flashed upon a captive heroine story she had read as a teen. It seemed this story had struck a chord with her, for she slipped into a recurrent fantasy of being that taken, helpless prisoner of some ne'er-do-well. She recalled the tale, the innocent young woman dragged off to parts unknown, ravished and taken in unspeakable ways. Of course, being a woman who was acquainted with the male of the species, she could indeed speak, from experience, of how a man might take a woman, and how that woman might enjoy that encounter.

She thrilled to consider herself as that naïve protagonist. She reprised our conversation "in character", and each reference to my roughness, and her helplessness, triggered another tingle of excitement within her. She fell deeper into her fantasy, and embroidered her imaginings of my plans for her this weekend.

I was surprised at the sorts of things she imagined. She wondered about being bound out doors in the winter. She imagined being chained in a dungeon, with some masked villain torturing her for his pleasure. She flashed upon thoughts of being pierced in nipple, tongue and her labia, and ringed. She imagined these piercings being used to immobilize her, skin being stretched until she feared it would tear. She imagined the pain transforming itself into pleasure, and she herself being transformed into a creature of her lusts, seeking pain and pleasure incessantly. Sandra contemplated being bound, helpless, while being used as a receptacle for my lusts, and fantasized about my bringing other men so that she could be taken in every orifice simultaneously. She considered herself being driven to heights of lust, of excitement, that she would lose herself in the sensations. She replayed these scenarios in her dream, until her hands found her sex, and she began to masturbate herself.

Astonishingly, I responded in kind, my own arousal matching her own. My hardening cock beginning to throb. Since we were spooned, only a little adjustment was required to slot my length into her drooling grotto. Gently, she bucked against me, and I against her, stroking each other to our eventual release. Given the heat of her shared dream, it did not take overly long for climax to arrive.

The next morning we awakened to a brilliant crisp sunny day. While Sandra was showering, I made breakfast. Naked, we dined, and chatted about inconsequential things. We finished, and I cleared the dishes.

The day was so beautiful, and her dream fresh in my mind, I was inspired. I recalled her fantasy of being bound outdoors in the winter. With the temperatures typical of Michigan winters, I did not think that was such a bright idea, but perhaps I could approach it for her.

"So, Sandra: you still have some unfulfilled fantasies, right?"

She looked at me dubiously. 'Uh, yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"Well, in keeping with the theme of satisfying you many admirers, I thought letting you work on your winter tan might be nice."

"How do you plan on doing that? Which admirers were you planning on satisfying? And, just how satisfied do you anticipate leaving them? I'm starting to be not-so-sure about this particular adventure!"

"Sandy? Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, otherwise I'd have to be some kind of idiot. Let's see: alone at a remote cabin, with some guy, playing sexual exposure games, and letting you tie me up, and I don't trust you? Nope, that would add up to idiot, and a death wish!"

"Have I taken you past where you are willing to go, so far?"

"No."

"So, let's let me arrange things for you, again? It's worked out pretty well for you, so far? Right?"

She thought a moment. "Yeah, so far, so good."

"So, up you go! I'll put your sweats on the bed for you."

I secured cord to hooks in each corner of the window, and assisted a naked Sandra to step up onto the bench immediately in front of the window. Facing outside, she raise her arms, and I secured them, spreading her ankles and securing them as well. The blacked out sunglasses completed her ensemble.

With the glittering sunlight reflected off of the snow, and the dappling as the trees moved in the breeze, her back-lit form was truly exquisite. I took her cellphone, and took several pictures. She heard the shutter sound effect, and turned her head this way and that.

"What are you doing? Mark, if anyone sees those pictures, I'll ... I'll ... Ooohhh, I don't know what I'll do, but I will be so upset!"

"If anyone sees these pictures, it will be because you showed them. This is your phone. I really hope you will send me a copy, but they are your images, and it is your call. You gotta know, you are simply so pretty in this light, that I had to photograph you in order to preserve the view forever."

She stopped twisting for a moment, and grinned into the window. "You think you can fool me, do you? You are simply a horn dog, and you want pictures so you can 'butter the corn' later on, thinking of me! I know how you operate, mister!"

"I don't need pictures. I have stroked myself several times this past week, thinking of our time together. As fetching as your pictures are, in truth the simple recollection of how pretty and responsive you are, is quite enough to make me hard and panting with desire. You now can appreciate, for yourself, just what I see when I have you bound. I hope you see how hot you are, and can understand the effect you have upon men in general, and me in particular."

She smiled at that. I continued. "Now, it is Saturday morning, on a pretty, snowy weekend. How many snowmobilers do you suppose will happen along this particular trail today? How many cross country skiers? I'll make you a little bet: if anybody comes along, and stops to enjoy how pretty you are, posed here helpless in my window, I'll take you out to dinner and you get to select where. No limits. If nobody comes along, however, I get a second chance to expose you. What do you think?" Unspoken was my plan to take that second chance, while out to dinner. I suppose we all must have our little secrets.

She shivered. Tugging at her restraints, she seemed to be weighing her luck. Helpfully, I continued. "You know, Andy might have decided to call in this weekend, and so he might wander over here for a morning coffee. You might want to consider that for a while."

I turned, and returned to the kitchen. I cleaned up from breakfast, and poured myself a second cup of coffee. I wandered back to the window, taking a comfortable seat off to one side. I admired her pert butt, and the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath. Some days, I simply have to be grateful to Whatever Power gifted me with this sort of moment. Sipping my coffee, I enjoyed the view.

Sure enough, I was distracted from my musings about the hot naked woman in my window, as Andy came trudging up my drive. I waved to get his attention, and directed him to the rear door. There, I briefed him on my plan, and he silently, and enthusiastically, agreed.

I returned to the front room, and went to Sandra. "How are you doing? You still enjoying being my little submissive?"

She seemed lost in reverie. "Hmmmm. Yes, I'm enjoying the warm sunshine on my skin. I wouldn't have thought that this would be as enjoyable as it is turning out to be. I thought I'd be all anxious and tense, worrying about somebody seeing me. But, you tied me here, I cannot do anything about it, and I just have to helplessly go along. I kinda like it."

I sprang my surprise. "Good thing, because, so does Andy."

She processed this for a moment. "You mean, his glimpse yesterday? How would you know that?"

"Because I know him, and who wouldn't enjoy it? Besides, you can ask him yourself."

Always a team player, Andy piped up, "Hi, Sandy. Same outfit? That look never gets old! You really do it justice!!"

She was immobilized. I know, I was the one who had tied her. But, it develops, she hadn't REALLY been immobile, until Andy spoke up. THEN, she went rigid. She lost some of her color, she flinched, and visibly trembled. This time, there was no sweatshirt to try to burrow beneath.

She began to breathe more rapidly. She shivered, and continued to tug at her bonds, and I became concerned. I moved around to her front, and watched carefully for indications of distress, other than surprise or embarrassment. After a few moments, I spoke. "Sandy? Are you alright? Do you need a break?"

She did not respond to me, but her skin glistened, as if she had finished some workout. I reached to touch her. She jerked, startled, and turned her face towards me.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

She looked and sounded winded. "Could ... could you ... please let me ... down? I ... I need a ... few minutes ... to ... collect ... to collect myself."

I motioned Andy toward the kitchen, and reached to release Sandra. She handed me the glasses, and walked hesitatingly to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. I looked at Andy, he looked at me, we shrugged. He broke the silence. "What happened?"