Owned Pt. 02
soppingwetpanties
This story stands alone, though it will give this story greater context if you read the first story.
Dedicated to jim, who wishes he was Franklin, and to scott, and his pantyhose fetish.
This story contains watersports.
Please skip this story if this doesn't "float" your boat.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.
Franklin rubbed his eyes, trying to focus, waking up in a strange place ... at the foot of the bed of Madeline Kennedy, a partner at the law firm he joined less than a year ago as a new associate. Madeline was still blissfully asleep. Franklin realized that he was wearing a studded dog collar, and was tethered by a leather leash clipped to an eye hook conveniently installed on one of the legs of her bed. He was sporting an erection that was painful. He noticed there were light bruises on his forearms and a long scratch across his chest. He ran his fingers across the scratch. It was still sensitive to the touch.
His memory was blurry -- he remembered during the previous few days that Madeline managed to extract a confession that he had lusted after her during their business meetings, and then willingly submitted to her. The haze started to clear as he looked out the bedroom window, seeing a lakeside setting, the glass-like water shimmering with the reflection of the early morning sun. He was somewhere in upstate New York -- at her family's retreat, she said.
The second floor bedroom was spacious, with knotty pine floors, hard and worn smooth from years of use, rustic furniture, and wall hangings and rugs reminiscent of Native American art. He could see a large expanse of lawn between the house and the thin strip of sandy beach, and a long dock with a few small boats tied to it. The double hung window was half open, welcoming a cool lake breeze that raised goosebumps on his naked body.
He looked at Madeline again. She told the other associates on the merger deal they were working on that there was unfinished business in Albany, but the only unfinished business was apparently training him to realize his hidden dream to experience "non-conventional" forms of sex. She was his North Star now, and he enthusiastically discarded his former vanilla life for the excitement of being with her.
His erection started throbbing when he lifted his head higher so he could see Madeline sprawled out on the king size bed, having kicked off most of her covers, and revealing her sheer nightgown, transparent enough for Franklin to drink in her 34DD size breasts, with areolas the size of a half dollar and long, hard nubby nipples. His hand went down to stroke his raging hardon as he studied the outline of her dark pubic patch. His eyes swept across her long shapely legs, the red polish on her toenails, and the pleasing curve of her thighs and calves. He couldn't believe that he was some sort of sex slave to this beautiful woman, who also happened to be his boss.
Franklin felt a dull ache in his biceps. His arms were sore from moving furniture from the small barn adjoining the house. Madeline was hosting a "party" that night, and Franklin helped clean the house and then carry in the extra furniture to accommodate the expected number of guests, which she of course didn't disclose, other than to say it was a "few."
There was a nagging soreness in his butt, and a touch from his fingers confirmed that he was wearing a medium size butt plug. He remembered that she had him wear a smaller one on the ride up, and that the previous evening she gave him a larger one to wear overnight.
He shifted the position of the plug in his ass and the incessant, throbbing pain subsided for a few moments. This pain was a constant reminder that he was owned by this woman. He snickered when he thought he, an Ivy league trained lawyer, would agree to a contract he hadn't read. Having a woman who you dreamed of a sex Goddess asking you to share her bed overwhelmed any rational judgment he might have had.
She rolled over on her side, oblivious to the fact that Franklin was at the foot of the bed staring at her. He was afraid of waking her, figuring he'd get some sort of whipping for being an insolent slut if he did so. He shimmied his body slowly until he was curled up again against her feet. She let out a contented sigh when he gave her foot a gentle massage through the covers.
She was half awake when Franklin started to massage her foot. Her first hazy thought of the day was that Franklin was a fortunate and unexpected discovery. It had been over two years since Chad left the practice of law ... and her ... to be with her former best friend, Grace Montero. Former best friend, because Chad's departure was completely unexpected. Grace and Chad had never let on that they were having an affair, and Madeline found out when she discovered that Chad's room in her house was completely cleaned out, leaving her without even a note.
Franklin's presence was soothing the wound that hadn't yet fully healed. Grace was a Mistress as well, and Madeline and Grace formed a close friendship over the years. They occasionally loaned their subs to each other or looked after them for each other. Grace was the opposite of Madeline in appearance, a tall, thin blonde with "A" cup breasts. Madeline didn't realize that Grace and Chad starting seeing each other while Chad played the part of her obedient and loyal sub.
Madeline resolved not to make the same mistakes with Franklin that she made with Chad. Over time, they became close and it was Madeline who broke discipline and allowed Chad too much freedom. She told herself that she was going to be strict with Franklin, not just because he wanted it, but because she acknowledged her own weaknesses. It took her that full two years to recover from the shock of Chad's departure to be with her former best friend. She used to talk with Grace almost every day, and hadn't spoken a word to her since Chad's clean break.
Madeline covered her face by shifting the covers so Franklin couldn't see her smile when his touch tickled her foot. He was young and eager. There were a few of her friends that she wanted him to meet. He was her shiny new toy and she wanted to show him off. Two long years since Chad. A brilliant tax attorney who was also a piece of shit. Madeline didn't know Franklin well before she took him in, but she still trusted her instincts, and her instincts told her that he would be everything Chad wasn't.
Franklin was startled when his new Mistress, presumably asleep, spoke to him in a melodic voice.
"Good morning slut."
So that would be his name, he thought. Fitting. He was happy he was her slut. He watched her sit up, and couldn't help but fix his stare on her magnificent breasts. She of course watched his eyes and knew exactly what he was looking at and what he was thinking.
Franklin's memory was hazy about the previous evening. He remembered people coming over late, and that one of the guests brought a few joints which were passed around. Franklin hadn't smoked since he was in college, and wasn't accustomed to the strength of the new hybrids that were being sold. The rest of the evening was a cloudy recollection of arms, legs, body parts and euphoria. He wondered again how he obtained the bruises and the scratch.
Madeline felt a stickiness between her legs and remembered that she too had passed out after too much weed, wine, and sex. Her recollections of the previous evening were fuzzy at best, but she did remember that it was James, or maybe it was Raphael, who was fucking her while her new toy was licking his ass, cock and balls. A smile came across her face when she remembered she had saved a treat for him for breakfast.
She sat up in the bed, resting against the headboard and lifted her knees up and spread them apart. She bunched her nightgown around her waist, revealing her sex, still matted with cum.
"Come here pet. I have a treat for you," she beckoned. Franklin's ears perked up at hearing the word "treat" and looked between his Mistress's legs for his reward. Her labia was still red and puffy from the previous evening's festivities, and a small dollop of cum was dripping out.
Franklin didn't remember having intercourse with Madeline and was fairly certain the "treat" was another man's cum. He was horrified at the thought of eating another man's cum. But he couldn't take his eyes off the growing white splotch seeping from her pussy. He was revulsed by the thought, and started to speak.
"Mistress ... I ..."
Madeline could see his morbid fascination and hesitancy in his eyes, and interrupted him before he got himself in more trouble.
"But of course if you want to leave now ..." she said dismissively. Her eyes met Franklin's. She made sure he was looking at hers. He wanted her instantly, and realized he would do anything for her, even if he found it utterly humiliating to do so. His insatiable need to please her obliterated his moral compass.
The leash was long enough to let Franklin snuggle his head between his Mistress's soft, lily white thighs and dip his nose into the cum oozing out from between her legs. The gamey odor stung his nose -- the ammonia like smell of a stranger's cum -- followed by an odor of earthy sweetness from the center of Franklin's universe -- his Mistress's cunt.
His cock was rock hard. He found that being humiliated excited him. Only a man who would walk to the ends of the Earth for his Mistress would put his manhood aside and willingly eat the spunk of another man from the pussy of his Mistress. He was that man. He inched even closer, taking all the slack out of his dog leash, and moving his lips over hers, so puffy and soft, and tonguing and slurping the stream of cum so his Mistress could hear the sounds of his obedience.
"I was sure you'd see it my way, slut," Madeline told Franklin in a haughty voice. She said it for her own satisfaction as she squeezed his head with her thighs. With his ears smashed between her legs, all he could hear only muffled sounds. His attentions were focused elsewhere anyway, giving a long French kiss to her pussy.
"Eat it pet ... it's all for you," she told him. Though Franklin didn't acknowledge her, he was starting to enjoy his chore. He was licking his Mistress's pussy, and it was as wonderful and delicious as he imagined. He stabbed at the fragments of white cum leaking out of her cunt, and then went further down, rimming her asshole to retrieve the cum that dripped down.
"Mmmm, that's a good pet."
