Rule of Thumb

Her eyes widened as I spoke and her breath quickened, even as she shook her head slightly. "No," she said quietly. "I don't believe you mean that. You would have me pierced? You want me pierced, and you want me to follow your every order? I can't believe it..." But she didn't move.

And she didn't protest when I stood up, my cock at half mast in front of her face. Or when I gently pulled her to the arm of the couch, resting her chest on it. Or when I pulled the comforter off of her and lifted one of her legs onto the couch back, the other onto the floor.

"You didn't cum tonight, did you?" I asked quietly, the first words I'd said the whole time I was arranging her.

"No, M...Master Rick..." She didn't turn around, her voice cracking slightly.

"And you begged for it, didn't you?" I ran my fingers down her back, into her ass crack and down to her pussy. She was sticky, from before, but not wet yet. She shuddered.

"Yes...Master Rick."

I pulled one of her thick outer lips out, stretching it, the dark purplish skin a stark contrast to her pale thighs. "This one?" I let it go and stretched the other one. "Or this one?"

She sobbed a little, trying to catch her breath. I saw a glint of moisture oozing from her inner lips. "Please..." she whispered.

I pulled first one and then the other, pinching them a little where the electrode would likely go. "She says she can make it as painful as you'd like. She'll make you cum from it..." I stroked my fingernail up into her inner folds her liquid starting to flow now.

"No...please...you don't mean it." Whispers, murmurs. Not for real.

"But you do," I said softly, my hand moving to her head, pushing her down on the arm slightly. "Tell me you do."

She swallowed and took a breath. "Please," she said a little more strongly. "Please fuck me. Please fuck me...hard."

I moved as if to comply, my cock hard against her entrance, my hand on the back of her head holding her in place. "You will not cum until you tell me the truth. Do you understand? I will fuck you every night this week and come next Friday, or Saturday, whenever Shelly can make it, we will witness you getting pierced and fulfilling the commitment you made tonight, and you won't cum until Anna lets you. That's your choice. You tell me the truth, you admit the truth to yourself, or you accept what you've already committed to." I pushed into her just enough to tease. "Do you understand?"

"Please, Rick. Please just fuck me with that cock of yours. Shove it deep into me and fill me up. I...I...fuck, fuck, FUCK. OKAY! I was telling the truth at Anna's! YES, I will be your slave, yes, I want to be pierced and yes, I want to have Shelly watch! Is that what you want to hear? Just FUCK me!!"

I slammed into her, my cock sliding on frictionless velvet walls, until my pubic bone was against her cheeks. She shouted and moaned, rubbing her clit against the couch cushions. I reached down and stroked her, keeping my cock deep into her. Not moving.

"You. Will. Not. Cum. Un. Til. You. Tell. The. Truth!" With each syllable I pulled out and slammed back into her, forcing her deeper against the arm, her breath pushing out in puffs. I continued the attack, telling her she would be my slave, she would be pierced, whatever I could to force her to confront her denial. She moaned with each assault, pushing back to take my cock as deep as she could, but she didn't utter a word. I could feel my orgasm coming but I wasn't ready. She remained silent.

I pulled out completely, my cock glistening with her juices, and sat back on my heels, looking at her spread open cunt, her legs red where I had slammed against her. I swung my hand down and slapped her right ass cheek hard. She yelped and jerked in surprise and buried her head in her arms against the couch. I slapped her left cheek, leaving a reddened hand print.

"Tell me the truth, cunt! Tell me what you really want. This is it. I will call this off tonight, if I don't get the truth." I came down again and again, her ass turning a bright red, small blood vessels bursting. She was crying so hard she couldn't catch her breath until she finally arched up and screamed.

"BASKET!"

I stopped, letting my hands down against my thighs. They were numb and I was exhausted.

She was sobbing against the couch arm, her ribs expanding to catch air, her back shaking.

"Okay," she barely uttered. "Okay. Okay. Okay. For reals." She stopped to catch her breath, her back heaving and then relaxing. "Okay. Just stop. Stop. Okay."

She pulled her legs together, moaning and turned over slowly, her body cramped and sore. "Please. don't. leave. me...Please. You don't mean it, right?" She turned to face me, her breasts and belly crosshatched from the fabric, her face tear stained and swollen. She reached her hands up, beckoning me to lie on top of her, to comfort her.

"It's about fucking time," I growled quietly in her ear. "Is that what it's going to take to get you to say it? A fucking beating?" I let my cock slip into her, slowly, until I was buried as deeply as I could get. She just kissed my face, my ears, my neck, whimpering softly, begging me not to leave her, that she really meant it, she really wanted to be mine, to be mine completely.

"You don't have to be pierced and be my 'slave' to be 'mine,' you know. Right?" I kissed her back, her face salty and hot.

"I want it," she whispered, over and over again. "I've been thinking about it ever since you had me do research that Sunday."

It seemed like a month ago. Had it been only a couple of weeks?

"I asked you then, and I've been thinking about it ever since. And then, tonight, she knew. How did she know? I've been hoping I was just fantasizing, but just now, the thought of having a piece of metal put through me, to be yours. Something just popped...I...don't know how to explain it." She went on, rambling, as if she was retelling a dream.

"Then why," I lifted up to look at her eyes. "Why didn't you just admit to it...just now. Why did you make me wallop you?"

She shook her head and looked away, pushing her hips against me to make me move inside her. I kept in synch, not letting her get any satisfaction. "I don't know, Ri...Master Rick. I don't know. But I know now. Maybe I needed it beaten into me, or out of me. I don't know. But I know now. I want to be your slave to do for you whatever you ask of me, or risk punishment." She reached up and kissed me, pulling me back down against her. I moved inside her, out, out out, until she moaned when I left her empty, and then back in, forcing a sigh.

What the fuck did we just do?

The thought triggered a reaction and I felt the hot liquid begin its journey up my shaft. Pulling out, I shot my load all over her breasts and belly, letting it dribble into her pubic hair.

* - * - * - *

"Gordy." Loren and I were at a coffee shop, waiting for our order. "I need a little help." I adjusted the phone and gave up, putting it on speaker on the table.

"...ld you, Rick. What's going on?"

"It's all good, I think. But you're right about her. She's a witch. I think maybe she bugged my house."

A small garbled noise came from the phone.

"No...no. We're at a coffee shop using my cell."

"Is it worth it, Rick? Has it been worth it? I've had six people call me from that party – told them all the same thing...stay away from her. I don't think they're going to listen. At least maybe we'll get some additional evidence, but frankly, until the DA gets interested, this is all civil stuff..."

"Gordy. I'm serious. I think the place may be bugged. You must know some guys, right?"

A barking laugh. "Know some guys. You think I've got Philip Marlowe on my staff? Yeah. I know a guy. It'll set you back $250/hr for a sweep – 2 hour minimum, although your place won't take that long. I'll see if he'll give you a break. In the meantime, act as if it is bugged but you don't know it. Whatever that means. Shit, Rick, I hope this is all worth it."

"You're a life-saver as usual, Gordy, and seriously, what difference does it make, right? I'm sending you more business. And as far as I'm concerned, it's been some of the best days of my life." I stared at Loren the entire time, winking at the last words, forcing a blush from her. "Our order is coming, Gordy – I'm going to have hang up. When might he make it?"

"I'll call him right now and find out. If he's not on a job it might be this weekend even."

I hung up and nodded slightly to Loren, indicating I expected something from her.

"What Master Rick?" She said quietly after the waitress delivered our plates.

"You're still wearing those underwear?"

She nodded, looking down.

"Off. Place them on the table."

She looked up at me in alarm, looked around the nearly empty restaurant and back shaking her head.

I pressed my lips tightly and shrugged slightly, suggesting she'd already be punished for her lack of obedience and tucked into my breakfast. When I looked up again, a bit of off-white fabric was next to her plate, her face deep red as she worked on her food.

I had sent her home the night before as soon as she had admitted the truth to me, telling her she was still not to cum. It had been at least 24 hours since she had climaxed, with hours of torment in between. I'm sure her chemistry was all mixed up; she probably hadn't slept all that well – I hadn't asked. I had her wear a dildo from one of the packages she'd ordered and told her she couldn't take it out until the next morning.

I was just feeling out the new dynamic, trying out where it might go.

I

still wasn't sure I wanted to be her master. What the fuck did that really mean? Two months ago I'd had a perfectly normal widower's life: out with friends, a thriving business, a great relationship with my kids, and coming home every night to a cold dark home. That had been awful. Not at first. Not immediately after Marnie had passed – the whole final months had been so dreadful; she had been so strong until the very end, and then...I hadn't really thought about it much since those final days. Coming home the first week after the hospice was actually a bit of a relief – not having to face her pain, her deterioration. But about two months after her death, it just started to wear.

Friends did what they did – tried to set me up – one disaster after another. I wasn't interested for at least a year, and by then I had fallen into a very comfortable routine. I didn't ask for Loren to come into my life. I didn't ask to be her "master." And yet, here she was, sitting across from me, waiting on my every word. Obeying my every ridiculous command. Just to see how far this was going to go, I told her she couldn't wear a stitch of clothing when she came over to the house, and I expected her to come over every morning before she left to work so I could "inspect" her, including the dildo which she was supposed to leave in until she arrived. As before, when I had made her streak between the houses she just shook her head, her eyes wide. And as before, no safe word, no real stopping it. And what do you know, this morning, right on time, she knocked at the front door, naked and freaking out.

"C'mon in," I welcomed her, keeping my nakedness away from the open doorway. It was one thing for

her

to be seen by the neighbors – she was gorgeous. It was quite another to see

me.

I could barely look at myself in the mirror. I had to start working out more.

"Goddamnit, Rick" She hissed, scooting into the front hall, her arms holding her folded clothes across her breasts. "Why are you making me do this?" She didn't really ask it expecting an answer, and I didn't bother to address it. She was just making it too easy to punish her.

I looked back at her across the table, her breasts barely visible beneath the sheer blouse she had chosen. She'd brought a bra as well, but I nixed it, smiling at her reaction.

The breeziness wasn't back yet, but I knew once she stabilized she'd find it again. There was too much uncertainty, too much newness. Her commitment, her self-realization, her anxiety about Shelly, about the coming ceremony – it was all too much to process. And then through all of that, she'd look at me, reach out and hold my hand tightly and kiss me, thanking me, sobbing. Over and over again. It all made me hard.

I reached over and took her underwear and slipped it into my pocket. It's one thing to act out a sexual fantasy in public, it's quite another to be witnessed doing it. She breathed out in relief.

"Jamison is coming over at 11." At least one implication was clear – I expected her to be there. I watched her reaction.

"Yes, Master Rick." It was a quiet question.

She was struggling to ask, but I continued eating my breakfast, sipping my coffee. "He's bringing over the slapper."

She twitched and looked down, taking a bite. The unspoken question remained in the air – if Jamison asked to use her, would I let him?

I shifted at the image, the memory of how he had Christine so tightly managed during the party. I chewed my omelet, a thought just beginning to bubble up, but still unformed beneath my consciousness.

"When you're finished, let's take a little drive." We had a good hour before he showed up and I didn't have much else to do; tormenting her seemed as entertaining as anything else. At least, she seemed to enjoy it.

It was a Sunday so I figured the shop wouldn't be open, but I wanted to check it out anyway. Downtown, off a side street filled with boarded up windows, a liquor store, a check-cashing outlet. Nice. At the corner was a non-descript shop – its windows intact at least – and a small unlit sign on the front door: "Jason's Specialties." At least he could spell it.

I parked the car and we both got out. Loren reached for my hand and held it tightly as I peered in through the darkened room. I thought I saw movement in the back, but it was impossible to tell. I knocked. She looked up at me, panic and expectation on her face. She wanted this so badly. She'd wanted this her whole life and she couldn't believe it was happening.

I couldn't believe it was happening.

A figure appeared behind the glass. "Yeah?"

"Jason?" I waited but no nod. "Anna Wilson sent us."

The right side of his face twitched a little and he unlocked the door. "I'm not really open. Just came down to do some inventory. Anything specific?" He didn't bother to look at Loren, addressing himself only to me.

"Right. So, this cunt's going to get pierced this Friday and Mistress Anna suggested you might have some equipment we could use afterwards." I tried to keep my voice even, but the whole scene was about to make me break out in hysterical laughter. It was Loren's hand squeezing mine so tight it felt like my fingers were breaking that kept me straight.

He winced again at the mention of Anna's name and paused, then shrugged and welcomed us in.

"How well do you know Mistress Anna," he asked, moving behind a counter.

"She's a n..." I almost said neighbor and held back. Why would I share anything with this guy? "...we're taking a few pointers from her. She speaks highly of you." I looked around the shop, responding perhaps to a gasp from Loren. The walls were covered in black leather objects: whips, floggers, belts, corsets, leggings. Entire ensembles of black leather and stainless steel. It was a fetishist's wet dream. Looking into the case beneath the counter, I saw more stainless steel – dental tools, implements that reminded me of what I'd seen in velvet lined boxes at Anna's and objects I had no name for. I looked up at Jason and smiled as broadly as I could, hoping to mask my real feelings of disgust.

"Yeah? That's interesting." He pulled a few inlaid boxes off the shelves behind him. "Pierced, you say. Gold bullets?"

I shrugged, not sure what he meant. He opened a box and showed me the same selection of lozenges – needle-like to tablet. "That's it." I confirmed, amicably.

"Which one you gonna go for?" He pierced me with his eyes, waiting.

"See, that's the thing. We're pretty new to the whole scene. An..Mistress Anna kinda sprung this on us last week." I took a breath, watching Loren's eyes widen each time she looked around. "Perhaps you have a suggestion?"

He grunted and set the box on the counter. "Lemme see 'er."

It was my turn to hesitate, if only for a heartbeat, not certain what he meant at first. When do you walk into a shop and have your girlfriend strip for the proprietor? When she's your sex slave and he's the fetishist. Seemed like the right time. I felt that animal thing begin to rise up inside.

"Cunt. Lift your skirt so Jamison can look at you."

"It's Jason...and your name?"

I blinked at his correction. I could have sworn I'd said Jason. "Rick. Cunt! What are you waiting for?!"

Loren had frozen at the order the first time, but she jumped at the change in my voice. Looking down, she pulled up her skirt to her navel, exposing her bush to Jason.

"Shit, you little fuck-up," I added for emphasis. "Over your head and stop with the shocked act. You knew what was up when we came in." I turned back to Jason, waiting. The animal part had fully emerged and I was getting angry.

"You know Jamison?" He waited for Loren to behave. "Jamison O'Kearny? Have her spread her legs. Shit. Get her up on the counter."

Moments later, the skirt pulled over her head, her legs draped on either side of the counter, Loren was spread open for Jason's inspection.

"So," he began, taking a small instrument from the case – it looked like all the world to me as something you'd clean your gums with – pointy and sharp at the end, a small diameter wire, maybe thicker than a dental tool, with a knuckle at the end of handle. He peeled her left outer labia away using the knuckle. "See how thick she is here?" He looked up at me, the instrument against the thickest part of her lip.

I nodded, licking my lips. I couldn't believe we were doing this. I had completely relinquished to the animal. I couldn't believe how hard I was.

"So – you can use the large diameter bullet here. She explain how it works?"

I shook my head.

"Pretty simple really." He abandoned her for a moment and picked up the box of piercings. "The larger ones come in two pieces." He pulled one apart. "This side pierces through, and this side latches onto it. This flange here," he pointed to a flared piece on the one half, "locks the two together. Once their joined that's it. Gotta cut 'em to get it out."

I wasn't sure I understood. "Cut her? Or cut the metal."

He laughed but it didn't bring me any joy. "I suppose either way," he shook his head. "The metal...but that's a good one." He laughed again, putting the bullet away. "But this style," he held up the needle, "it works different." He brought the instrument back to Loren's vagina, only this time near the top. "This is used to pierce through the lips and right through her clit. Painful as fuck, as far as I know, and with the trainer? They say they see god with it." He smiled and shrugged. "Once it's through, you cut it with a special clipper that flattens the ends." He nodded, staring at her pussy. "Won't come out and gives a little more grip for the clips, yeah?"

He looked up at me, waiting.

"Thanks," I said, taking the instrument from him. I dragged the knuckle slowly into her slit, from her clit down until the point was dragging against her inner lips. She moaned. "Mistress Anna mentioned you had a small device – attaches to her cunt...a small fucking machine?"

He nodded, clearing the counter for a couple of large boxes. "I gotta couple here for ya. This one is new – works great – rechargeable, single pole, single frequency. $200 bucks."

I knew that wasn't going to cut it. "And the other one?" The box was almost twice as big.

"Rebuilt. It's actually the best of all the bunch I've got. Came back a couple of months ago – cleaned it up. A control board. Anyway – this is the crème of the crop. 2 pole, scope camera, variable depth, variable frequency, full leather belts and six programmable settings, including random. New, this thing runs a thousand. I'll let it go for $500."