The next day found me with renewed resolve. I didn't get where I was today by letting myself be ruled by hormones, or men, either. No matter how sexy they might be. I was going to regain the upper hand at work today, and absolutely show Bryan that I didn't belong to him, or anyone else. I'd made it through the night without my husband seeing my bruises, and dressed quickly that morning, careful not to let him walk in on me in the bathroom. I took extra care with my makeup, intending to be cool, crisp, and in control when I got to work.
The first glitch in my plan was devastating. I wandered nonchalantly around the office looking for him, and finally resorted to asking a coworker if they'd seen him. "Oh no, Bryan called in sick. Flu, I guess. I heard he was going to be out the rest of the week." I went back to my desk, and sank into my chair slowly, my heart sinking with me. How was I supposed to demonstrate how little I needed him when he wasn't even here? Well, no matter. I was convinced that yesterday afternoon had been a fluke. A simple matter of sexual frustration, and boredom, nothing more. If I couldn't demonstrate it to him here at work, what did it matter? I just wouldn't show up on Saturday. Case closed.
I was as busy as ever that day, making calls, visiting customers, and pushing myself hard, but the day dragged on interminably. At random moments, I would suddenly see his chiseled face, and hear his warning. "You are not allowed to cum."
I was hyper-conscious of my bare thighs rubbing together whenever I crossed my legs, and the unsatisfied need from yesterday was a palpable thing. I resolved to take care of it as soon as I got home, and maybe even before that. Every time I went to the ladies' room, I hoped that it would be empty, and I could shut myself into a stall and prove once and for all that I didn't need him.
Just my luck, there was never any privacy, and by the time I left, I was climbing the walls. There was a long deserted stretch of road between the office and my house, and I had just hitched up my skirt and slid aside my thin silk panties, when my phone beeped, indicating an incoming text. Afraid it was my boss, or worse yet, my husband, I checked it quickly.
"Remember what I told you, pet. No touching, and absolutely no orgasms for you. I'll know, and you'll be punished." My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly smoothed down my skirt. It was going to be a long wait until Saturday.
*******
As much as he knew she had already subjugated herself in her attempt to find pleasure and release, he also understood that she was trying to fill a deeper need. Something born in the back of her brain. Something that never made it to the light, but would not release her. She had never admitted the desire, but it was already controlling her life. Already leading her to her knees under the guise of striving for success. She had been lying to herself, saying it was what she had to do if she wanted to make sales, because she could not yet acknowledge that she wanted nothing more than to be held so tightly that she was made powerless. Nothing more than to be controlled, so that she could give up the pretext of love making, and finally find fulfillment in simple abandon.
But she was not yet ready to understand all of this. She would still be struggling with the truth, telling herself that she had to do as he said, even though he had already released her. He knew that he would need to release her again and again as she struggled to acknowledge that this was what she wanted. For now, she needed the reminders to rail against, and to keep her within the boundaries that he had set. She would need her rebellions and rationalizations, but she would also need to be taught to follow his instructions, to comply without question, to learn the pleasure of submission.
*******
It was a long way to his house. He'd emailed me directions, to my personal email, no less. Further proof that he knew me way better than I was comfortable with. Other than the detailed directions, there was little else, except a reminder to bring my collar and leash. The email also said that while three hours was a minimum, I needed to start getting used to the fact that my time was no longer my own. If he required my services for longer, I would simply have to adjust.
The words were like waving a red flag in front of a bull, but perhaps most frightening was the fact that I knew somehow that he was provoking me deliberately. A calculated move to put me in a rebellious frame of mind before I even presented myself. The fact that it was working just made me angrier, but mostly at myself. What could be worse than being smart enough to know you're being manipulated, but too needy to refuse? And the growing realization that he knew me better than I did myself was very disconcerting.
It had only been three days since he left me on my porch, but it seemed like a lifetime. I'd been studiously avoiding thinking too hard about him, busying myself with work, and cleaning house when I got home until I was too tired to do anything but fall in bed and sleep. I had no distractions now, though; only a 45 minute drive through the country, and plenty of time to think about what I was doing.
It would have been so much easier if he'd kept up the pretense of blackmail. Then I would have had no choice, and would not now be forced to examine my feelings, and justify my actions. He had not. He'd calmly handed over the pharmaceutical case, and offered me the chance to go back to my vanilla life, and the very thought of it made me queasy. I needed him, his mastery of my body, and his uncanny understanding of my deepest desires.
My heart was racing, my palms sweating, and I'd been unable to eat breakfast. It felt like fear, but I knew better. I had known him too long, seen his calm demeanor in the office, and knew in my heart that he would never injure me. My adrenaline was pumping because I had no idea what was in store for me, but more to the point; that I wouldn't be able to control it. I wanted him to own me. I craved the freedom of total submission, and I could no longer hide it, even from myself.
*******
Bryan's house was not remote, but was set back from the road on a small bit of land, much of which had once been a farmstead home surrounded by a wood lot. Bad land too rough to plow, but adequate for the small garden, yard, and the few buildings that used to make up a farm. It had been the last piece held by the aging farmer whose children had all left for the city long before. The rest sold off to neighbors with adjoining fields. His rough acres were surrounded by trees, the farmyard wind break, and acres of fields on either side. There were still a few small out buildings, and the clutter of a many such estates as their owners aged, and eventually got behind on maintenance. He had not spent much on the property, barely the value of the land, but he had put a great deal of labor into setting things right. Good fences make good neighbors, but good maintenance keeps them from bothering you.
Rebecca arrived three minutes late. He had expected she would be late. This was all the rebellion she would allow herself. He knew that she had probably gone though a whole list of rationalizations; first that she didn't have to obey him, that she could touch herself and he would not know. Maybe she thought that she could cum if her husband made love to her, though he suspected that was infrequent and inadequate. Until finally she decided that she didn't have to go to his house. That he couldn't tell her what to do, until finally convincing herself that that she would 'just go have a look'. No doubt she had struggled a lot that first day back at work. His message had been planned to leave her the sense that she was being watched, and to give her an excuse to obey him. An excuse she would not long need as she learned the pleasure of obedience. The only other message he sent was to tell her to be sure to bring her collar and leash when she came.
*******
My hand shook almost too badly to knock, but I managed a tentative rapping, and waited nervously for him to answer. I wasn't really sure what to expect, and had dressed simply, knowing full well that the only thing that mattered was how quickly I would be able to undress. My collar and leash were in my hand, as I was already learning that disobedience would not be dealt with lightly. I was also beginning to acknowledge the sobering truth that obeying him turned me on like nothing ever had before.
I stood on his porch for what seemed like a lifetime, waiting for the rest of my life to begin. I knew that today would not necessarily be pleasant, and in fact, might involve a great deal of pain for me. I also knew that I could no longer live without it.
*******
He went to the door when she knocked, stepping out onto the front porch to greet her. She stepped back, uncertain what to do.
"You are late. Do not be late again." He did not dwell on it, giving her no chance to present her excuse.
"I had hoped to start with pleasure, but I think we both realize that you have chosen punishment instead."
He understood then that she might not be as ready as he expected, that she might not be able to yield to him, to his strength, and to realize her release without hiding behind excuses. This was little obstacle to him, and he would correct it as gradually as she required, starting immediately.
"Take off your clothes and stack them on the floor. While you are here you will wear only what I give you. You will leave your clothes at the door and wait for me on your knees. Since you were late, you will wait longer today. Put your leash and collar on top of your clothes and wait by the door."
"Where do I change?" she asked.
"You don't change." He replied evenly, without irritation, but also without sympathy.
"You strip. And then you kneel." He told her. "You do it here, you do it now, and you will not question me."
He stepped past her and walked over to a chair, where he sat down to watch her strip away her clothes, enjoying her silent struggle as she released her modesty to his will. He savored the moment her confusion passed as she focused on his simple command, and started the familiar task of undressing herself. She settled to her knees without a word beside the small pile of clothes, leaving the leash and collar on top of the stack as he had directed.
He said nothing while he savored her subservience. The welts on her ass were nicely purple now, no longer angry red against her pale skin. He enjoyed them as he stood over her, inspecting her body, and her folded clothes. She had done it properly, leaving no uneven edges to hint at rebellion.
"You have done well," he told her softly, letting his hand rest atop her head, stilling her. "Perhaps there will yet be time for pleasure today, once your penance is served."
He finally placed the collar around her neck and attached the leash when he was satisfied that she had had time to consider her actions, long after her knees must have tired from the unaccustomed wait, kneeling at his feet.
"Now I will show you where to park, and where to enter. You will do this the same way each time you come here. Remember that you are owned, and that your place is on your knees. But you may rise now, so we can move your car." He walked towards the porch door, pulling her slightly by the leash.
"But I don't have any clothes on," she protested.
"You have your collar. That is all you have earned, and it is all that you need."
He pulled the leash, so she had no choice but to follow him outside, around the front and into the driveway. Unclipping her, he had her follow the drive into the back courtyard and park next to a small white building that had once been farmer's tool shed. He then led her into the dirt floored shack to the side of an old wooden work bench, now cleared of the old tools and scraps it once held.
