Going Home

She'd done it. She'd left her husband and her old life far behind, miles beneath on the ground. She soared through the skies, heading west, into the sun, feeling weightless and exhilarated, with that scary trembling in her gut that told her things were changing rapidly, perhaps too rapidly.

As the plane broke through the low, gray clouds, the orange sun blazed into her eyes and she looked down in child-like wonder, still fascinated by the roiling swell of clouds beneath her, though she'd seen it a dozen times before.

This time was different. She's flown alone before, on a visit to a man in a far off state. Her husband had known however, and approved, or at least not minded over much. By then relations between them were more negative than positive and she was in dire need of reassurance that she was still worth something in someone's eyes. She still had confidence in her intelligence and abilities - these things had never been questioned - but her confidence in herself as a sexual being had been slowly eroding over the past several months.

Their already dismal sex life had slowed to less than a trickle as her husband found more and newer outlets for his lust. It angered her more than she could safely express. She'd married him with the expectation that he was 'the one' for her and she 'the one' for him, with the belief that they would be faithful and loving always, and with no desire in her heart for anyone but him. In the few months preceding she felt like she'd been eviscerated. Everything she had known and believed was suddenly meaningless and the one person she had thought she could rely on to love her completely had turned on her when her desires didn't match his. She had taken that flight south to be with a man who perhaps didn't completely understand her, but who at least desired her and her kind and wanted to give her lovely memories. He'd certainly done that.

She'd had a similar feeling in her gut as the plane took off that time as well, but this time it was different in every possible way. This time she was in love with the man she was going to, not just casually in lust with a friend. This time she had no intention of returning. And her soon-to-be-ex knew that too.

She'd hugged him goodbye in that way reserved for maiden aunts and overly familiar uncles, feeling his thin, muscular body press stiffly into her soft, yielding flesh, feeling the hard plane of his chest crushing her round, sensitive breasts, the sharp collarbone against her cheek. She'd sighed in her own kind of relief, closing her eyes and seeing the face of her beloved, knowing that she would soon be with him, in his arms, in his bed, on her knees before him or tied and…. She shook off the lovely image before it had fully formed, wanting to save it for the solitude of the flight. She smiled though, knowing that she wouldn't have to explain the dazed expressions on her face or be snapped back into reality as she imagined a particularly titillating scene. She wouldn't have to hide her joy at the sound of his name or her lust at the thought of his mouth on her, his whisper in her ear. She would be with her lover and Master and her world would at last feel complete.

She'd stood back and nodded slightly, picked up her bag, then stepped into the taxi and closed the door. She'd tried to forget he'd ever existed. It was too painful, otherwise, and she'd hoped he was doing the same, although they would still travel in the same circles and most of their friendships were mutual. But for now she wanted to be alone. She'd gazed at her naked ring finger all the way to the airport.

***

Her chilled fingers closed around the plastic cup and she drank the hot coffee the flight attendant gave her, her gaze never leaving the shifting clouds beneath her till the city was in view and the pressure made her ears pop. She shuffled off the plane and entered a bright, gaudy airport waiting for her connecting flight, watching the little dramas of meetings and leavings all around her, observing the joys and sadnesses of a hundred strangers, listening to the cries of tired babies, the mumbling of harried travelers, inhaling the scents of perfume and fast food and liquored breath and stale air, answering questions of the customs agents as her bags were checked and tagged and sent on their way.

She sat cross-legged, exposing too much of her thigh and not caring as old men ogled her, not noticing the younger men either, with their bold stares and lascivious suggestions. Her mind was elsewhere, hovering in that sweet, blissful place where all things were possible and all dreams fulfilled. In that place she was already with her lover, already lying helpless, feeling his fingers stroke her skin and his mouth consume her with the most tenderly controlled passion she'd ever felt. In that place, the only sounds were their breath and her longing, sighing moans as he teased her closer and closer to bliss and stopped short yet again only to grin at her beseeching face and leave her hovering there for a moment before finding some other sweet torment for her to endure. Her vacant expression and flushing face drew odd looks from the shuffling hoards of travelers, but she didn't even notice.

She came to only as her flight was called, got to her feet and walked in a daze to the next plane, sitting in a languid, lustful haze as it taxied and the engines gunned and she left the earth once more.

This time the sun was a thin band of red on the horizon, and above the clouds were a glowing yellow-green-pink-blue haze against the backdrop of a midnight sky. She watched the stars appear, wishing on the first one, then closed her eyes and fell gradually asleep, her hand moving surreptitiously in her lap under her coat, soothing her, and giving her new sparks of feeling in her belly as she thought of him.

In her dreams he appeared before her as she'd last seen him, tall compared to her tiny frame, his dark hair hanging in a loose braid down his back, brushed there and knotted by her own hands, his eyes full of sorrow at watching her board yet another plane in yet another city as she had to leave him again. She recalled sitting there in the dull boarding lounge for an hour, wondering why she couldn't have stayed with him just a few minutes longer, savouring the heat on her buttocks from the most recent spanking and the warm, damp trickle between her sore nether lips that promised to make it a very long flight home.

Her dream changed suddenly and she was seeing herself from the outside, but from the inside as well, in that odd double vision of dreams. Viewed from the outside, she was on her knees, her legs pushed slightly apart, and her smooth, bare ass exposed to the air. Her lover was lying alongside her, his right hand very tenderly caressing the soft white skin that was now tinted pink from his slaps. She saw herself trembling in lust and fear and excitement as he told her how beautiful she was. She saw her cheeks blushing at his words, then saw her eyes blink in fierce shock as he spanked her again, leaving her panting and whimpering. Her inner self felt the slap and the throb of lust in her pussy that accompanied it and could feel her parched throat gasping to catch her breath. She felt the blush of embarrassment as her lover turned his head to listen to her count out the number of the particular stroke, and felt a twist of lust in her belly at that too. The dream shifted again and now she was on her back, lying half across her lover, her head thrown back, her eyes clenched tightly, but her legs spread open for him as he slowly spanked her pussy, one stroke at a time, and now her cheeks didn't blush quite so much as she very softly gasped out the numbers, her body stiffening and thrusting toward him between each slap, longing for it, and too shy to beg aloud.

She awoke with a start to the feel of the plane shaking and the comforting voice of the captain saying that everything was all right and hopefully there'd be no more turbulence.

She hugged herself and trembled with aftershocks of her dream. She took deep calming breaths as she gazed up at the sky, imagining the infinity and just failing to grasp it, but knowing that it was as endless as her life seemed now, stretching on forever in a wide strip of unimagined pleasures and fears. She jumped, startled, as the flight attendant touched her shoulder and offered a drink to calm her nerves. She ordered hot tea and sipped its milky sweetness and slowly the pounding of her heart stopped and she gazed down in fascination yet again at the streams of cars on the highways and streets below, amazed at the quantity of humanity visible from the air.

She heard the notice that they were thirty minutes from landing and slipped off to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. She wanted to look beautiful when he saw her, knowing he'd seen her at her worst anyway and would love her no matter what, but still wanting to look pretty, or at least presentable when he took her in his arms and crushed her to him.

She washed her face in the tiny sink and patted it dry with the rough paper towels, then quickly brushed her teeth and fixed her hair. She adjusted the thin silver collar at her throat, opening her blouse another button or two so that it was more visible, and baring her breasts at the same time. Lastly she reached under her short skirt and removed her now damp panties, stuffing them in her purse. She pulled the skirt down as low as it would go and made her way back to her seat, grateful there was no seatmate to inadvertently notice their sudden lack.

The plane taxied in with agonizing slowness and her eyes scanned the backlit figures in the windows of the lounge in the vain hope that she'd recognize his rangy form. Her legs trembled on her way off the plane and up the stairs. Her eyes scanned the waiting crowd and finally there he was, his dark eyes shining in barely concealed delight, his grin just as devilish. She ran to him and clung to him, sobbing a flood of grief and relief and love and nerves and shook in his embrace till he tilted her face up and kissed her softly on her mouth and wiped her tears away with his gentle fingertips.

He looked down at her thoughtfully for a moment, his hands softly stroking her cheeks, then said, "Mine," and hugged her tightly as she grinned and hid her blushing face against his chest.

He pulled her toward the waiting luggage and grabbed the bags she pointed to with one hand while he kept the other firmly on the back of her neck. They walked out into the chilly evening air and he tossed the bags in the back of his truck. She stopped for a moment to inhale the damp, clean smell of the air, so different after the stale recycled air in the plane's cabin. She crawled up into the cab and sat tight against his side as his hand stroked her naked thigh, making her squirm. They didn't talk. She couldn't have anyway. The happiness and relief was too great and she couldn't find her voice. It was always like this after they'd been separated for a few months - she couldn't speak, all she could do was gaze at him and feel her heart swell in her chest with more happiness than she'd ever known. She watched his brown eyes sparkle and smiled at the curve of his lips as he took her left hand and stroked the bare fingers, lingering over the slight divot left by the absence of her wedding band.

There was no sound but their tires on the highway and no light but what they made and the orange haze coming from the city. The stars got brighter the further out they drove and the cars got fewer. She listened to his breathing and tried to control her own, trying to mask the unseemly excitement but unable.

His right arm went around her shoulder and his fingers pushed her shirt aside, finding her stiff nipple and pinching it lightly. She made a sound like 'uh' and shook a bit, making him smile. His hand moved back to her thigh and then up to her crotch, stroking her and he smiled again when he felt her smooth, bare wetness. She tried not to move too much, not wanting him to stop, but he did anyway, for a moment, then slowly pushed his finger into her, his eyes never leaving the road as he probed her, stroking and pressing all her most sensitive spots. She groaned aloud again and spread her legs wide, pushing toward his hand. When he felt this, he matched her movement and pulled his hand away, making her strain for his touch, and laughed at the sound of frustration she made when she couldn't reach far enough. He lifted his hand to his face and inhaled her scent, then licked her wetness from his finger and put both hands on the steering wheel, looking determined to get them home. She blushed bright red at the sight and closed her eyes.

She was embarrassed at her display, at the way he could do that to her, turn her into an absolute slut with one touch. She sat up next to him and pulled her short skirt modestly down, covering most of her thighs. She shifted her swollen breasts under her thin shirt and looked out the window wondering where her dignity had gone, where she'd lost it on her long flight into the mountains. Her legs were primly together and she was acutely aware of every single thing touching her skin. She could feel the silk of her blouse teasing the soft flesh of her bare nipples, the uncomfortable condition of her pantiless bottom on the sticky car seat, the cool metallic feel of the collar encircling her throat. She could feel the heat that radiated from his body against her side and left leg, and the cool night air bringing the gooseflesh up on her bare calves. She swallowed and wondered again how his presence could make her feel like this, how the fact of his existence in her realm of perception could overwhelm her sense and her senses and make her a silent, compliant tramp, an eager, if somewhat shy, partner to whatever he suggested.

She looked out at the unfamiliar landscape, wondering how far from civilization he'd decided to build his little retreat. She could see vague dark shapes looming against the sky and knew they would be revealed as the Rockies when daylight came. For now they were monsters, immense sentinels watching them speed into the dark. She hadn't seen his new cabin yet - only knew it from his descriptions in email. He'd been working on remodeling it for months to make it cozy and comfortable enough for a lady, and also to incorporate a few additions that most cabins did not possess, such as places to allow said lady to be bound. She smiled softly at this thought. He glanced her way and saw the distracted look in her eyes, decided she needed a lesson in paying attention and roughly pulled the truck over onto a side road. She looked up, startled as he pushed her down onto the seat and shoved her skirt up with one hand as he opened his pants with the other.

With a soft moan she opened herself for her lover and Master and closed her eyes in bliss as he pressed himself into the wet cleft of her cunt. His desire to teach her a lesson was dissolved as he sunk into her depth and felt her naked slickness grasp at him for the first time in months, pulling him deeper as she threw her hips up to meet his thrusts. His arm went under the small of her back to lift her to him, as his face pushed her blouse aside and his mouth went to suckle the cherry pinkness of her nipples. Her heat and her moisture coated him and as she clamped down around his cock, he came quickly and pulled out of her, closing his pants and pulling back onto the highway before she was completely certain what was happening. She started to whimper and her hands went to ease the throbbing between her legs. He let her stroke herself for about a minute, enjoying the spectacle, then ordered her to sit up like a lady. He held both her small hands in one of his for the rest of the trip, not even letting her close her legs to get relief from a secret flexing of her thighs. Her heart soared in happiness as she lay her head on his shoulder and he grinned as he glanced in the rear view mirror and saw her blissful smile reflected back to him, the silver of her collar gleaming and reflecting the lights of the dashboard up onto her chin.

The remaining minutes of the ride seemed endless and torturous, as he'd intended and he knew her mind was consumed solely with thoughts of him now, and not worries over the propriety of her behavior as his semen dripped from her onto the seat and wet her thighs, leaving her with a sticky reminder of who was Master. She squirmed and fidgeted, as the throbbing between her legs grew softer, but somehow deeper and more insistent. She wondered how much farther they had to go.

They drove on for another hour, their altitude increasing and the trees along the highway thickening, until he made a sudden right turn. A narrow, winding trail through the trees turned out to be a driveway that led to a small clearing in the pines and there, obscured by the trees, was a small log cabin. Flanked on one end by a huge stone chimney and on the other by a small, newly constructed barn with a well-fenced paddock, the cabin, in it's tiny clearing on the side of the mountain, looked like a haven. In the bright moonlight she could see the dark shape of his mare standing there, watching them curiously to see who'd arrived in her small, confined world as the truck pulled to a halt.

The cabin was dark, but wood smoke wisped from the chimney in thin streams. He had even gone to the trouble to plant some flowers near the doorstep to welcome her, but in the cool mountain evening, these had closed their blossoms and wilted a bit in the chilled air. Although it was September, it was already cooling off at this altitude and a light sparkling frost covered the grass and leaves.

She hadn't felt how chilled she was till she felt the warmth from the small fire still crackling in the hearth and she went to it instinctively, holding out her hands then standing with her rump pointed at the fire as she looked around at the strange house. The last time they'd been together was months ago, in his tiny bachelor apartment in Michigan. So much had happened since then. It felt as if the world had conspired to bring them together and that was just fine with her.

The cabin was far different from his sordid little pad. Tidy, for one thing, in a way the apartment had not been. Here, all the walls were freshly painted and the ceilings didn't leak. The only raccoons lived out in the woods and not in the attic. There were no neighbours to annoy with her pleasured squeals, and none to come to her aid if her cries took on a more frightened tone. The kitchen looked freshly tidied, with dishes drying in the rack and the delightful smell of wood smoke filling the air. It looked like a place she would be happy to call home.

She watched her lover walk down the hallway and into a large room where he dropped her luggage on the bed. Her mind instantly jumped to who would be sleeping next to her and she recalled with wry fondness the soft sound of his snoring and the heat of his body wrapped tightly around hers in his sleep, as if to keep her there next to him, to keep her from abandoning him in the dark.

He came back and stood in front of her, placing his hands on her slim waist and pressing a full kiss down onto her lips, feeling her strain toward him, responding with her whole body to his gentleness. He smiled down at her.

"Welcome home, love," he whispered softly.

Her face broke into a smile and she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, leaning her head gently on his chest and sighing deeply, a tired, happy sigh, then she looked up at him and whispered quietly, "Thank you, Master."

He smiled devilishly and kissed her forehead then led her by the hand to the kitchen.

"As long as you're here you'll be cooking and keeping house for us. Have to make you useful somehow."

He winked at her and she nodded, smiling faintly, not caring what he said as long as his attention was on her, as long as he was looking at her with that barely concealed lust, that craving for her soft body, her warm mouth.