In Goddess We Trust

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed” Carl Jung

The fog was thickening as he drove home that night – but no thicker than the thoughts filling his head as he cautiously made his way up the service road to the main highway. Although the fog would prevent him from getting home in a timely manner, there was one advantage - it would allow him the opportunity to reflect on the events of that night, and his feelings about the same, as he slowly maneuvered into the middle lane of the highway and remained there for the duration of the trip home.

He had not come down from the celestial high of the night’s experience as yet. He maintained, in his mind at least, that his euphoric state was due to the totally unexpected raw animal sex he just had. But… his mind shifted to hover mode… why did he feel something was wrong? Something was “off”, for lack of a better word – but what? He had never felt so incredible before, during, or after sex as he did since she had become his lover, so why did he feel… why did he feel, so… well, so… incomplete?

“I have no fucking clue!” he caught himself saying aloud in the solitude of his vehicle. And he really didn’t have a clue that night – nor the following night when he went online with her when they each got home from work; even though the signs of enlightenment were beginning to appear. It was not until the next week when they were to meet at the river’s banks near her home for another clandestine love tryst that they both would awaken from their deeply nestled sexual comas.

The fog was thickening as she drove home that night – and since she loathed the fog more than any other inclement weather factor, she took all the back roads home; not caring when she would arrive there, just caring she would arrive there in one piece. The delay it caused only granted her the opportunity to reflect on the last several hours she had spent with him.

“Yeah, and I do mean “spent”!” she heard herself say aloud, as she stopped abruptly to allow a deer to saunter across the otherwise deserted country road she was traveling. She, too, felt “off”- even though she had this indescribable smoldering heat still emanating from her erogenous zones – and her ass cheeks from the spanking she just received. It was phenomenal, but she also felt something else; something like …something like…well, something like…gypped.

She pondered those thoughts the remainder of the ride home – totally perplexed as to why she felt the way she did; wanting to emphatically deny those feelings; deny them for fear she would evoke a dark side of herself that may eventually consume her - and destroy what she now insatiably enjoyed: him.

The next night’s online conversation started out blandly enough; chatting about work… Didn’t we have a lot of business tonight? Wasn’t so-and-so conducting the meeting on Thursday? Wasn’t such-and-such up for a promotion soon?

Eventually, the subject was changed; the real topic was now at hand, and was initiated by him; for he could no longer contain his restlessness about what transpired the night before.

He typed at a faltered tempo; weighing each word, each syllable; each inflection he hoped the body of the question would convey. After typing it out, he stared at the inquiry on the computer screen that just moments before – and since the previous night - was paramount in his mind. He drew in a deep breath, bit down on his bottom lip, and clicked on the IM box marked “send”.

“How do you FEEL about us after last night?”

The reply was not instantaneous. Actually, he thought they may have lost their connection. No answer - still – after several minutes.

He typed in,” Are you still with me?”

Finally, his mounting anxiety was washed away as on his screen appeared her answers to both questions.

“I will always be with you – for as long as you want me to be. As for last night, I don’t know what to think, or feel. It was… different.”

“In what way?” he asked; although he felt the same vibes, he was curious to know her definition of “different”.

She typed back, “I think our sex is fantastic, but something is out of place – that’s the best way I can describe it. It’s like starting a collection of something in a limited series, and receiving each as they are released, and having all but the last one. You know you will receive it, but you don’t know when – just that you will. Last night’s role playing was like waiting for that last edition to complete the collection – and you don’t know what the final edition even looks like, but that it will finish the series, and make it much more valuable. I don’t know what our final edition is, or what it looks like, but when we find out, it will not only be valuable- it will be priceless.”

Although he carefully read, re-read, and read again her last rather poignant response, his eyes - and his mind - focused on only two words: “role playing”. He thought she was really into it – really into the “real” of dominant sex. He was sure he had not wasted one single brain cell thinking of it as role playing with her – and since she was the only woman he had ever felt comfortable enough to sexually engage with in this manner, he was now beginning to think he should lay to rest - forever and amen - all of what he believed were his deepest desires of being a Master – HER Master. As Fate had it, he didn’t bury his desires into the catacombs of his mind; he merely reshuffled his thoughts and once more placed her feelings before his, and, like a good little slave {unbeknownst to either of them at the time}, totally agreed with her and allowed the subject to drop.

The chat now focused on their plans to meet at a secluded spot near a stream the following Thursday - the Thursday before the Fourth of July weekend – their mutual Independence Day as they would discover. They had missed the total lunar eclipse that May, and the next wouldn’t be until November; but the eclipse they were to witness that Thursday night would be totally their own. One-on-one fireworks would begin that night – celebrating the collaboration of all-too-willing partakers in the fine arts of domination and bondage…

He would be meeting her after work at the bar’s parking lot; and then following her from there to her selected spot. They didn’t even stop to think that after all the rains they were having, they may need to have an alternate plan, but Fate would step in once again, and provide them with a beautiful night – warm, dry; a cloudless sky - bright moon and all. The perfect night for witnessing an eclipse; if not the lunar kind, an eclipse of a fleshly nature.

She knew the area well; it was a favorite spot where she had taken walks and fished many a day during the course of her estrangement from her husband – a place she considered to be her Xanadu. Now, she was to invite him to share the same solace; but not for the same intentions. They would not fully realize the true intent until that very night…

Thursday night finally arrived; he followed her in his car to a little graveled lot alongside the bridge of the stream. Hidden within the brush was a small path running parallel to the languidly flowing waters that eventually led to an alcove that had once been her emotional refuge.

When she alighted from her car, he was stunned – and instantly turned on - for she was dressed in black harem pants, a halter top in charcoal/silver that ended right below her full breasts, and a silver slave bracelet placed high on her arm. She was a Master’s dream…

“There is a God!” he jubilantly thought to himself, as he followed her down the embankment’s path; suddenly becoming aware of yet another sultry fact: she wore no thongs beneath the silk pants.

The hip-high slits on either side of the pant legs separated as she strode; revealing to him teasing, alluring peeks at her love nest. His cock began to feel crowded in his jeans, as it strained at the zipper as if begging to be released. He wanted to take her – right there and then, but curbed his urges knowing he would have his way with her very, very soon.

Alas, the little puppy was wrong in his assumption.

He had brought a blanket, and when they arrived at their destination, spread it on the ground; motioning for her to lay down first. She complied; dropping to her knees, and quite seductively stretched out – like a cat basking in the sun’s rays streaming through a window; her swamp-green eyes now actually resembling those of a feline. She held his gaze transfixed to her every deliberate, provocative move; as she raised herself up onto one elbow, and turning toward him, purred, “You like?”

“I like” he responded; as if in a hypnotic state. She had had that effect on him many times before – but this was somehow more intense – unfamiliar to him about her. Aside from a lantern, she carried a small plastic bag with her into the alcove; contents unknown to him. It was now beside her on the blanket. At first, he presumed it may contain something for him to drink when he got thirsty; as a slave should always be prepared to satisfy her Master’s needs.

Again, the puppy would be proven wrong.

She patted the blanket indicating she wanted him to lie next to her. He removed his shirt, in anticipation of doing her as soon as he was undressed. He then began to unzip his fly; his cock pushing at the zipper like a race horse jumping at the starting gate; when she raised herself up to a sitting position and shook her head saying in a somewhat commanding voice, “NO, I want you to just lie here for awhile – we will get to that later.” She pointed; indicated to the very impressive bulge jutting from his jeans, as she, once again, descended to the blanket; her eyes fixed on his; her mouth set in a peculiarly determined way.

He now complied; lowering himself down, but not next to her; rather, he went to position himself above her, and met with his soon-to-be-Domme’s outstretched arms; grabbing his head around his neck, and pulling him down to her mouth where she ravenously bit his lip in her obvious want. Her nails dug into his shoulders’ flesh; sending currents of electricity coursing through his body like shock treatments. Her tongue searched out his; as her one hand continued down to his chest, where she curled her fingers into the hairs, and pulled on them with a slow, steady pressure. He winced; as some of the chest hairs gave way in her unwavering grasp, but he did not cry out; nor did he try to break from her hold. Her other hand reached for something in the bag; something he then felt upon his wrists; something cold and hard and… constricting… handcuffs – the metal type. He did not resist; strangely enough - curiosity winning out - as this move had cast a different light on the scenario than what he imagined but a short time ago. Now, somewhat powerless, he was pushed over to a lying position on his back; still not protesting any of her newly acquired supremacy. She proceeded to unbutton his jeans; unzipping them with the urgency of a child opening up her gifts on Christmas morning – her “gifts” being beneath his pants. Her fiery frenzy was drawing a new feeling from deep within his being and from deep within his groin; as she removed his genitals from their captive state. She brazenly squeezed his rod; gripping the shaft tightly; as if getting prepared for a tug-of-war. She pumped it with long, quick strokes; like pumping a shotgun to eject a spent cartridge, and then slid her hand down to his balls; where she began to caress; then squeeze them. She lifted her head up slightly, to see his reaction to her never- before- tried aggressions. She studied his face; a face that now revealed - not sheer pleasure or pain, but an opaque combination of both sensations. She had never seen this expression on his face before that night; but reveled in the knowledge he was responding so willingly to her new found forcefulness.

She continued in her primeval seduction of power; gently stroking his shaft; keeping him off guard; then suddenly, when she felt his cockhead begin to drip its expected precum, she slapped it with her newest toy she quietly had slipped from her bag of tricks: a leather riding crop. The sudden flogging of his wet cockhead sent him into an airless moment of sexual helplessness. She repeated these dual messages to his cock over and over again; one, a permission; the other, a trespass.

He was startled and visibly shaken; not entirely from the physical attack, but from the concept that she was undoubtedly in control - and he was undoubtedly enjoying it.

As her onslaught to his cock persisted; he attempted to move his handcuffed hands down to shield it from her discipline, and were met with yet another corrective measure – a thick, wooden paddle striking his knuckles, and instantly sending his bound hands back to where they were safe and sound – above his head.

“Where the hell did THAT come from?!” was his first outcry of the night, as she continued the metamorphosis from sporadic submissive to permanent Supreme Divinity. Her reply was none; his outburst fell upon deaf ears.

It would remain that way for the duration of the night…

He was writhing in erotic pain; the kind of pain that is very real, but welcomed with cum wrenching necessity. He needed to suffer like this; an inferno within his body cremating his willpower, and this temptress fanning the flames. His cock was on fire from her masochistic attack; but its owner wanted more… MUCH MORE.

It manifested through the exhibits of torture that were brandished upon him; what was so obvious to his subconscious for years now became an apocalyptic conscious realization: he could not only survive - but could very much thrive - on being a slave; HER slave.

She continued in her resolve to be in command, as she reached into the bag for the last ingredient in the night’s recipe of “Who is Alpha?” It was a battery operated anal dildo; the type with a tip that squirmed as the remainder of the six inches vibrated to varying speeds. She would seek its final resting place in a little while, but first…

She stood up; straddling his prone, naked body as she began to tauntingly strip –first, the halter – then, the harem pants - as he lay there - in his sensuously tortured bliss; mesmerized by the show. She smiled down at him; a wicked little smile; but said nothing. The smile said it all.

She impaled herself onto his throbbing member; skewering down onto his hot meat until it disappeared deep inside her cunt. Leaning forward, she began rubbing her clit against the underside of his cock; the friction of the movements heating it up even more. Her large breasts bounced against her chest, as she picked up her pace in her hot pursuit to climax.

He, for the second time, dropped his cuffed hands from above his head in an attempt to caress her breasts; to finger her erect nipples and evoke the squeals of pleasure he loved to hear. His knuckles, once again, were threatened as she flailed the paddle. He quickly withdrew; as he agonizingly watched the body he was prohibited to touch resume twisting and grinding on his already aching- to-cum dick.

She repositioned herself; sitting upright to jackhammer on his cock; driving him so deep within her, he could feel her cervical opening. The suction her tightened pussy muscles produced made it feel to him like he was getting head. His cum was rising up his shaft at top speed…

She, even in her wild fervor to spill her juices all over him, sensed he was about to cream, and quickly dismounted him. A long groan eked out of his voice box, as he dealt with his cock’s disappointment to succeed in what it did best: cum. She finished herself off standing above him; allowing him to watch her – enveloped in her own sexual play - until the tidal waves of her climax washed over her and she dripped her love liquids onto his violently pulsing cock.

Once she recouped from her exhibition of masturbation, she reached for the dildo next to her, and held it out of his sight. This last toy would mark their positions – once and for all - in The Realm of Domination…

He was rolled over onto his stomach; face down with hands still bound above his head, and ordered to sprawl. He complied; as he instantly felt her hand reach underneath him to retrieve his still throbbing cock, and his engorged balls; stretching them out between his limbs.

The next sensation he had was benign to this night: the feeling of something cool; something soothing; something vibrating; massaging his genitals and ass to the point where he began to drift into a relaxed state. He cared not what this instrument of euphoria was… not yet anyway.

She continued caressing him with the dildo for quite some time; running it gently over his balls; hesitating at the head of his cock to allow the slowest speed of the vibrator to make his cockhead jump in response. In preparation for its final purpose that night, she smeared the dildo with his cock’s frothing of precum for a natural lubricant .When she was sure he was totally calm and every muscle – including the one between his legs - was relaxed, she turned it on full speed, and slid it into his ass; into the channel passed his sphincter; finding his prostate, and licking it with the tip of the dildo.

He never knew what hit him.

His natural reaction to tense up was light-years too late; she had touched an area that made him instantly want to shoot his load hard, fast and furiously - it was his hot button.

Raising his ass off the blanket, he began to crank it; choreographing his movements to the circular motions she made with the dildo. He moaned softly; over and over; as she continued to kiss the gland with the vibrating tip; permitting it to make the slit on his cockhead widen; his precum icing it; while his shaft jumped in response to the delectably new sensation.

“Oh, Goddess… Ohhhhh….” His chant drifted off, as she continued her anal exploration with the vibrator.

“I’m …I…I..I..mm..I’m almost there,” he breathlessly stammered, “I’m soooo clooossse…please…PLEEEEASE…ooohhhhh, Goddess!”

*******************************

That was, of course, Her cue to stop. It was the sign She was waiting for: he was begging; whimpering actually; like a puppy just weaned from its mother. Yes, She liked that concept; he would be Her puppy - Her puppy-of-a-slave.

The eclipse was now complete.

She slid the dildo out; he still wriggling at the crest he was about to plummet from; as She stood up, turned him over, and unlocked his cuffs.

He looked up at Her quizzically; rubbing his numb wrists; not yet fully understanding the magnitude of Her new-found Goddess powers over him. His momentary confusion dissolved as She picked up Her clothes and toys, placed them in the bag, and with but a smile - the wicked little smile She had worn earlier that night - left Her little puppy-of-a-slave there in the alcove by the stream; under a bright June moon; to reflect on where they would be from that night forward: The collection was now complete; the final edition identified... It was now priceless.

As She walked out to Her car to get dressed and go home, She heard his voice from behind Her call out, “I love you, Goddess.”

Her smile returned; knowing he would stay back to finish off what She had started tonight; not expecting anything less.

Her smile broadened, as She voiced a long yearned wish – now a Goddess’ command:

“Slave, be commando at work from here on in – do I make myself clear?”

The response from behind Her was a voice of promised obedience:

“Yes, my Goddess.”