Friday night - late
It was late when the doorbell rang. Bili stretched as he left the couch to answer the door. A grin stretched across his face as he looked through the peephole in the door. It was Megan. It had been two weeks since she had left his home. He had thought that it would take her another week or two to get the nerve to come by again.
He opened the door to see her standing, thumbing her purse nervously. She looked up and smiled. Then, timidly, she asked if she could come in. They sat on his couch for several minutes in silence. Finally, in a quaky voice, she spoke. She went over their previous weekend in detail. Soon, her ragged voice became louder and excited - almost panicked.
He reached over to her, covering her tiny hand with his. Instantly, her voice calmed and she slowed her speaking. Her eyes met his and then darted away. Then she continued reminiscing over their weekend together.
Finally, she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, briefly. "Bili, I want to taste more of what you showed me," she said. "It's just that...it's just that I am afraid of what you will do to me. I mean, what you did excited me, but..." her voice trailed away.
A gentle smile crossed his lips. Slowly, he moved his hand up her arm and to her face to cradle her chin. "Megan," he said, "my rules are the same as before. I promise not to harm you. But, if you choose to stay with me you will have to suffer my will. And, once you agree to it, there is no reversal, no matter how you beg or ask out of it."
He stood, drawing her up with him. Then, he kissed her cheek and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. She shivered, excitedly, at his gentle caress.
After leaving the room, briefly, he returned to where she stood and showed her a black box. He opened the lid to reveal the collar and cuffs that she had worn on her last visit. There was also a set of five locks and a single key. After displaying the boxes contents he sat it down on the coffee table and went into his bedroom, leaving her with a choice.
She sat down on the couch and pondered her predicament. Remembering his telling her of so many terrible things; things that he had done to the women he was with, she wondered if he would do those things to her. Would he humiliate and torture her to the degree he had other women? He did promise not to harm her, after all. But, what was harm? He had already humiliated her and caused her severe pain. And yet, here she was, back again, seeking more.
He was reclining on his massive bed, reading, when she came into the bedroom. As he had expected, she was wearing only the leather and steel jewelry that he had shown her. He watched her approach him. She was trembling when she handed him the key.
He motioned her to kneel by the bed. She did so, without hesitation or thought. She dropped her head to look up at him from within the cave of her hair. He noticed that her hands were behind her back, already.
"Where is the strap for your hair?" he asked, softly.
"In my purse" she whispered.
"Get it and return," he told her.
She scampered away, returning strap in hand, to kneel at his bedside, hands behind her. He was reading again and did not look up. She tilted her head down and watched him through her thick hair, while he read.
He slowly pulled one hand from his book and held out his hand. She placed the strap in his hand and then returned her hand behind her, nervously. She wondered how it was that she should be so excited and afraid at supplicating herself in this manner.
For several minutes he gave no signs of interest and she wondered how long he would make her wait or if he was waiting for her to do something. The minutes passed slowly. Finally, he dog-eared the page of the book and closed it. He sat up and stretched. Then he commanded she turn around. She found herself facing the mirrored closet. While she knelt, regarding the image that they cast, he got up and retrieved a brush from the bathroom. In a moment he had returned to the bed to begin brushing her long hair.
She reveled in the soft care and attention that he gave to her hair. She found herself closing her eyes and shivering with every stroke of the brush. Very soon - too soon - it was over and the long strap with the shiny steel ring was braided into her hair.
She stood up at his command and turned to face him. When she had turned around he showed her a short chain. "This," he told her, "is for your waist. This chain is special and I want you to understand its meaning."
Over the next several minutes he spoke to her about the long-standing friendship that they had shared. He spoke of the times that they had drifted out of contact and how he always thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. He spoke of how much joy he felt when they had resumed contact after those times. And then he began to tell her of his feelings for her over the long years of their friendship.
Within all of his explanation of his feelings he told her, too, that she would suffer for him should she agree to wear the chain. He told her that her previous suffering was minimal and that she could expect far worse. Slowly, she came to understand the full meaning of the chain.
"The chain is not for this weekend." He told her. "You will decide on the chain another time. But, I wanted you to know my feelings for you." Then he flashed a warm and comforting smile.
She did not know how to feel about all that he had told her. She was caught in the revelation of his feelings for her. She had harbored similar feelings for him as well. Still, hs promise to make her suffer provided a sharp fear of what might come.
After a long moment of silence he offered her a last chance at leaving the collar and cuffs behind for the night. She chose to stay, bound in cuffs and collar, to suffer at his whims. Later, as she suffered, she would question her decision.
Saturday Morning around 1 AM:
She wept in disgust and defeat as her tongue pushed against his asshole. She was now bound, chest down, to his coffee table. Her head was tilted up and back, held in harsh bondage. He had arranged the strap in her hair so that it was pulled back by a chain. The chain, in turn, passed between the cheeks of her ass down underneath the table to lock on a ring that was just under her head. Her hands had been spread wide, bound to either end of the coffee table in similar fashion. Her thighs had been bound with wide leather straps, which, in turn, were attached to the cuffs on her ankles.