Carrie And John Pt 03

The following morning John awoke at about 8am and quickly went into the bathroom and showered. He was getting used to the luxury of Carrie's lifestyle; he had not often showered in a marbled cubicle which was actually big enough for about four other people as well. The fact that water seemed to spray at him from every direction was also fun, as well as practical and he laughed at the thought he had probably never been so clean in his whole life!

Once out of the shower he dried off and then, towel around his waist wandered back into the bedroom to find his Under Armour, clean and dry, waiting for him on the bed. Carrie called out from the hallway, "I thought we'd go for a run this morning. Don't bother with your running shorts. I'd like to see you in just the compression wear for once."

Instinctively John realised that Carrie knew he would not be able to hide his erection in the tight Lycra. He felt suddenly glad, he wanted to show her how much she turned him on and he also felt a deep desire to fulfil her wishes. He dressed carefully, checking the seams were exactly central over his arse, and then wandered into the sitting room.

Carrie was a sight to behold. She was wearing running tights with compression shorts over the top. Over these she wore a pair of two inch, wet look adidas running shorts. The idea of layers was another thing which turned John on. Seeing Carrie like this, her hair tightly in its customary pony tail and an adidas running bra on top, made him weak at the knees.

"Just drink a smoothie before we set off," Carrie said, pecking him on the cheek and allowing her hand to linger on his bottom for a few seconds, "we'll eat when we get back."

So they went downstairs and set off on the beautiful morning. Not running towards the town but further along the beach. John had never been this far along the coast and he enjoyed the spectacular scenery and the beautiful, clear blue sky and ocean. He also enjoyed the sight of Carrie's toned perfection running ahead of him. The thought of all those pretty layers made him harder than ever.

They ran for over a mile before Carrie brought them to a halt at a part of the beach where rocks jutted out into the sea for some distance. Taking John's hand, she led him onto the rocks and they clambered and scrambled together for about ten minutes before they finally reached the furthest point.

For a few minutes they stood admiring the waves as they lazily splashed over the rocks. The water was deepest blue, but also quite transparent. They could easily see the sandy bottom and fish swimming among the smaller rocks. John wished he could just dive in a swim, it looked so inviting.

Then Carrie turned to him and put her arms around his neck. She brushed her lips on his again before plunging her tongue between his teeth and kissing him deeply. The kiss lingered on and on, John feeling his penis throbbing and his heart rate climbing. One of her hands ran down his back, slowly, tracing his spine. She then ran her fingers around his backside, fingers again tracing, this time the divide between his buttocks.

Her long, elegant finger nails pressed in, to feel his anus, and John felt himself thrusting forwards, his cock pressed against her crotch. All the while she kissed him ever deeper. She was able to reach right into his throat with her tongue; it was as if she was taking possession of him.

At last she pulled away, still resting her crotch against his firm shaft. "I think I want to be more than friends," she whispered, "I want you to belong to me." John didn't miss the deeper meaning of what she was saying. His heart soared not only at the thought she wanted to be with him, but that she might be hinting at a power balance in their relationship which fitted with his dreams.

"I would like that," he replied somewhat breathlessly, "I would like to belong to you completely." He thought he would try to press her into more discussion of his dreams but instead Carrie pulled him in for another long, deep kiss. Her hand continued to explore his back and his arse.

She seemed to enjoy the smoothness of the Lycra and the feel of his body. It took John every ounce of control he had to avoid cumming at that moment. He knew he would have to become tougher if he was to be able to satisfy this amazing woman.

After kissing, she led him back to the beach and then they began the run back to the beach house. The whole run back was like a dream to John. He had to tell her his dream of submission today; he had to find out if she also really dreamed of dominance.

On arriving back in the house, Carrie and John both went to their rooms and showered. When he returned to his room he found only his brief running shorts to wear. His heart leapt again, he so wanted to be vulnerable, almost naked before her when he spoke about his wishes in their relationship.

He so longed for her to be fully aware of his erection, the symbol of his deepest desires for her. He pulled on the shorts and enjoyed the struggle to tighten the cord without trapping himself. He then went into the sitting room to meet Carrie, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, longing and anticipation.

Carrie's appearance quite took him by surprise at first. She had put on a skin tight dress in an almost lime green. It plunged low to show off her ample cleavage and ended just beneath her backside. Her feet were wearing very high heeled shoes and she had a chunky gold chain around her neck. It was also clear that she was not wearing a bra, but the slightly translucent nature of the fabric revealed a matching green triangle string thong.

He had only ever seen her in lingerie, bikinis or sportswear so he was surprised, but a thrill ran through him as he realised how powerful she looked dressed like that. She handed him a plate of food and gestured towards the armchairs in the sitting room.

John sat down, careful to arrange his shorts as neatly as possible. Carrie watched this performance and smiled, she then sat down slowly, keeping her knees together. The short dress would not preserve her modesty otherwise. They ate quietly, each looking at the other from time to time until the small meal was over. Then Carrie leant forwards, her bosom prominent in John's view. "Tell me what you want in a relationship, John?" she asked.

John gulped, it was now or never. "You might think I am pathetic," he said quietly, already expecting the worst, "but I really do want to belong to you. I long to submit to a woman, submit in the bondage sense of the word. If we were together, I would want you to be in charge, for me to be your sub."

He stopped at this point, suddenly embarrassed at what he had told her and all too aware that she might not understand his feelings or even approve of them. He realised he was so into Carrie that he could easily have misunderstood the signals she had been giving him.

"If I have offended you with any of this, please forgive me," he murmured, "I would rather stay your friend than lose your trust."

Carrie looked at John for quite a while before she spoke. Her eyes seemed to bore into him and he felt smaller and smaller, in agony over how she would respond to him. At last she spoke, "John, how much will you submit to me?" it was a simple question and John responded immediately, she was opening the door to him at last.

"I would do anything you asked me to. I would give myself to you completely, no matter what you ask," he said determinedly.

"Are you completely sure, John?" she asked again, "being my sub would mean huge changes in your life. I would expect complete obedience; it's not a game you know."

"Please believe me," he said breathlessly, "I would do anything for you. Please believe me."

"Okay," she said, getting to her feet, "go and stand in the middle of the room, right there, under the beam."

John saw the wooden beam which crossed the ceiling of the room and he quietly stood up and placed himself before her where she had indicated.

"Now undo the cord of your shorts and slowly strip out of them," she instructed.

John gulped at the thought of this. His fantasy becoming reality was more than he could have dreamed of a couple of weeks before. He stood with his legs slightly apart and reached for the cord tucked into his shorts. He gently untucked it and then pulled one end until the bow undid.

Carrie watched him intently throughout and as a result his penis throbbed with desire. He then tucked his fingers into the waistband at his hips and slowly wiggled the shorts down from his waist and over his straining cock. They then slipped lightly to the floor.

"Step out of them," she commanded, and John did so. "Look at the floor and find the two small metal studs in the carpet," she continued. "Put one foot on each stud and then stretch up until your fingers are touching the beam above you."

John saw that the studs would put his feet about a metre apart, spreading his legs and leaving his genitalia completely unprotected.

He did as he was asked with his feet and then reached up to the beam. It was a real stretch for him, he had to be on tip toes and even then his fingers only just touched the smooth wood above him. He wobbled slightly as he tried to hold the position and seeing the stern look in Carrie's eyes, he redoubled his efforts to stretch and to hold his position.

Carrie surveyed the naked body of the man before her. He certainly had a good looking face and he was not in any way overweight. Wonderfully, he was her exact height but he lacked the muscle mass and overall fitness she would like to see.

This did not bother Carrie. She was a fitness addict and she was very proud of her perfect combination of tone, fitness and feminine prettiness. It was always her intention to enforce a strict regime of fitness and development on any slave she owned. With John being so physically average, she should see a real improvement in his physique over time.

His genitals were pretty average too but his ability to stay erect pretty much all the time, impressed her. She almost smiled at the thought of his addiction to her and the unspent need he must have right now. Nevertheless, she would need more from him than he could offer naturally, so she would also need to work on his cock and balls, to bring them up to match her desires.

To impress on John his subservient position, she made a show of walking around him slowly, as if inspecting a sculpture, from time to time looking more closely or gently touching some feature on his body.

Eventually she came back to stand in front of him, his legs now visibly shaking with the effort of maintaining his stretched position. "Relax, but keep your feet in position," she ordered.

John gratefully lowered his arms and stood flat on his feet. He was so aroused he could not think clearly, but his legs and arms were sore with the effort of holding so still. Carrie walked behind him again and then ordered, "Keeping your feet as they are and legs straight, pick up your shorts from the floor." John was very aware of her gazing at his balls and suddenly upturned cock as he had to bend at the waist and reach forwards to grab the shorts.

He felt so exposed and it was a feeling more exciting and erotic than any he had experienced before. He stood back up with the shorts in his hands and Carrie ordered him to carefully turn them inside out. He did so, wondering what she meant him to do next.

"Look carefully at the shorts," she said, "look at all the pre-cum you have deposited inside the front of them. I want you to slowly and carefully lick every drop from inside those shorts. I want to see your tongue slick with it." John looked at the shiny pool of sticky liquid which had formed on the material. He began to lick, tasting for the first time his own salty essence.

He licked very carefully, making sure he cleaned off every last stubborn drop from inside the shorts. Unfortunately, as he did so, his penis had produced more which had dropped to the carpet in a small pool there.

Carrie then ordered John to put the shorts on and she then tied them tightly at his waist before ordering him to lick every last drop from the carpet. She insisted that his knees were apart as he knelt forwards to do this, so she could, if she wished, easily reach his balls and penis from behind. As he licked up his mess, John felt her eyes scouring his body, he felt so vulnerable, so exposed, even wearing his shorts again.

Once he had finished his cleaning, Carrie made him stand in a more relaxed fashion. "I enjoyed your obedience John. But you said you would do anything I asked, so I am going to test you on that promise. It is now the busiest time on the beach. I want you to go outside. Strip off your shorts and run all the way back to your apartment, naked. Do this and I will believe your boast that you will do anything for me, that you truly are subservient."

John was taken aback at this suggestion but his desire to please Carrie burned so strongly that he agreed at once. If it meant being hers, under her care, he would obey.

Carrie passed him his trainers and, otherwise naked having removed his shorts once again, he crouched down and tied them up. He then headed for the stairs. Carrie said, "Phone me from your land-line when you arrive home. Then I know you have completed this little mission and we can really start our new lives. I will watch you set off from the balcony." John nodded that he understood and then went down to the beach level.

He paused for a moment, suddenly aware of a cold sweat forming all over him. As he reached for the door handle he already doubted his ability to cope with the challenge. There would be families and people out walking their dogs, as well as the usual groups of surfers and other beach sports fanatics.

There could well be people who knew him from work or the gym. Then he thought of Carrie and what she was potentially offering him, the life of a submissive to a beautiful young woman who possessed every attribute he found sexy and beautiful.

Upstairs he heard Carrie slide the windows to the balcony open and he knew he had to do it, if only to please her. Gripping the door handle nervously, John pulled it open and stepped, naked, onto the beach. No one was in view and he began to run, glancing up to see Carrie watching him from the balcony.

He had run only a few hundred metres when, rounding the rocks at the bottom of a cliff which jutted onto the beach, he almost ran straight into an elderly couple who had, until that moment, been enjoying a quiet stroll by the waterside.

Seeing him, the woman shrieked and her husband let out a gasp of surprise before both of them glared accusingly at John. He had stopped to apologise for running in to them and realised this was only making matters worse. The man tried to obscure John's naked form from his wife's view while she complained bitterly at the disgusting behaviour of the young these days.

John glanced further along the beach to see, as he had thought, families and groups of people everywhere. He panicked and before he knew it, he was sprinting headlong towards the safety of Carrie's beach house. Once inside he skulked up the steps to the living room, to find Carrie waiting for him, a very disappointed expression on her face.

Without saying a word she passed John his Under Armour and his running shorts and then turned away from him as he dressed.

"I am very disappointed with you John," she said at last as he completed his dressing. "You promised to do anything I asked and at the first hurdle, you fell. I didn't ask this of you because it was easy, but because it was difficult. Despite this I truly believed you would go through with it. Now I don't think I can trust you. You are obviously not the sub I want or need."

"If being subservient is only for tasks you approve of," she continued, "you need another kind of Mistress, one who has much lower standards than I do." Tears formed in John's eyes as he pleaded with Carrie to ask anything else of him.

He fell to his knees and begged for her forgiveness. He could see she was not only disappointed, but actually hurt. He had been right that a kind of bond, trust, maybe even love had formed between them, and now he had crushed this in its early life.

When finally he quietened down she said, tears trickling down her face, "You must go home now. I don't think you can stay here. I need to begin my search for a sub again; you will have to make your life without me. Please leave, go to your home, and carry on with your life. I am sure you will find happiness somewhere else."

John knew it was useless to argue. She turned away from him and went upstairs, to the other rooms. He looked around the beautiful sitting room he had come to adore for its proximity to Carrie and then walked slowly down stairs and on to the beach.

It took him four hours to get home. In that time the weather changed and John found himself drenched by a sea fret which had obscured the sun and turned the whole world to a dull grey. It really was an example of pathetic fallacy, chiming perfectly with his state of mind and the trajectory of his life.

He felt strange too because he was now limp, his penis no longer stimulated by the beauty of Carrie or the possibilities she had offered. So it was, that approaching the flats where he lived, he was shocked to find all of his possessions on the driveway where his car had been standing before he met up with Carrie on the Friday night.

Everything, from clothes to television, was soaked by the drizzle and rain which had come in off the sea. Lamely he tried to unlock the front door to find out what was happening. His key no longer fitted the lock. He couldn't even get into the building, let alone his flat.

Going back to his worldly goods, John noticed an envelope taped to the front of one of his suitcases. He pulled it off and opened it to find a note from his employer. It complained bitterly about his performance the previous week at work. It hinted at disgraceful scenes reported to the boss from his parents who had bumped into John on the beach earlier that day. It finished with a declaration that he no longer had a job, his company car was gone and the flat he had lived in was back in the possession of his boss who was the landlord anyway.

John had gone from almost sublime happiness and erotic excitement, to complete failure and homelessness in the course of a few hours. Feeling completely dejected, he kicked the pile of belongings savagely and then wandered aimlessly into town. He had nowhere to live, no transport and pretty much everything he owned was being ruined by the rain, even as he contemplated how his life had changed.

Wondering what to do, he decided to call on pretty much the only friend he had in the town, a work colleague who had introduced him to the gym some months ago. As he approached the house where he lived, John noticed that the place looked deserted.

He peered through the windows to see that the rooms were empty. Even the carpets had gone. Now he really was friendless and alone. If he had only stayed in his home town and taken a lower paid job, none of this would ever have happened.

He continued to wander aimlessly around the town, looking a little out of place in his running gear, drenched and cold in the summer rain. Eventually he headed back to his former home. It occurred to him that his wallet must be in that pile of stuff. He could at least find a room to stay the night.

When John arrived back 'home', he found his belongings scattered across the parking spaces. The television had gone and most of the other items were missing, broken or ruined by the rain. He scrambled about in the dim light of evening looking for his wallet, but it was nowhere to be found. He didn't have any means of identifying himself, let alone buying a meal or a place to sleep.