Sarah Is Flame

Introduction:

This story is about the early days of Sarah and Mike's relationship. She is a 19 year old law student, he a 34 year old police man. It is early days in their relationship and they have recently started playing around with master and slave personas. He has named her "Flame" and wherever and whenever he uses her pet name she must become his sex slave and fulfill his every wish. The story is mostly told by Sarah in the first person while the experiences of her alter-ego, Flame, are recounted in the third person. I hope it makes sense that way. The idea is that Sarah is mostly a well behaved law student and needs Flame in order to get her head in a place where she can be a complete slut without being overcome with guilt....

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You can't believe your luck! Two weeks in a luxurious beach-front retreat, and thanks to a friend in "The Job," you've snatched it up cheap-as-chips, the wealthy owner's only too happy to do something nice for the "boys in blue". You wonder if they'd be so cheerful if they knew what you are planning for this week of male bonding!

Of course, once you told me, I humbugged you mercilessly for weeks to take me with you. Actually, we tag teamed you, with Flame pleading in her slutty way to be allowed to come and `play' with the boys. But you remained firm. "This is a holiday for the guys, no girls allowed, sorry!" A chance to do some male bonding with some of your best mates. Girls will only cramp your style and make a nuisance of themselves.

I'm disappointed, things are going so well between us, and I think I will go nuts if I don't see you for two whole weeks. It's not that I don't feel "right" when your not around, its just that I feel so much better when you are. Because, of course I am addicted to you more than any street junky could imagine. Although I'd never question you directly, I have an elder brother and I know what boys get up to on 'those' kinda trips way.

You offer me a consolation. I've been asking you for ages to come up for a weekend and meet my Mum and the rest of the family. I have been just dying to show you off for so long, but, between the silly hours of your job and my Mum's it's meant the timing has never been right. And I guess you're a little weirded out about meeting my family. So I'm delighted when you offer to come up and stay for a few days. I finally get to put an end to all my Aunties nagging me abut when they're going to meet this mysterious, phantom-man.

It's a wonderful couple of days. Mum loves you, I can tell by the way she treats you. She doesn't even insist on us sleeping in separate bedrooms. Yay! That is a BIG deal. If I didn't know better I'd say she was flirting with you. Don't be grossed out, I mean in the nicest, most harmless way. Actually, I guess she just thinks its nice to have a Man in the house (I realize how much I've missed it… It's been way too long). I mean, it's up to me, cos she wouldn't know what to do with a guy if one fell on her, naked! He'd have to blow all the cobwebs off… Gross!!

Mum can smell a rat a million miles away. I kinda think I have good judgment in men, but her approval means a lot to me. And it reinforces my own instinct. That you're honest and good and kind and compassionate. She is just so distrusting of guys after Dad. So later that night while you both thought I was on the loo, my heart swelled to overhear Mum tell you what a difference you have made to "her little Splinkee" and that she knows you'll take good care of me. Mum NEVER talks like that!

Later, I know Mum wasn't just trying to make you feel at home, because she told me she has a good feeling about you, how, like I always secretly suspected, she never really approved of my ex or thought we were right for each other, and that its good I'm finally moving on and putting that psycho behind me…

After doing the family dinner thing on Saturday night we say goodnight and go off to bed TOGETHER. Awesome! It feels so, well, grown up to announce to my Aunties and Mum that "we're off to bed'. Yes, I'm taking my man to bed in my very own house, and my Mum thinks it's fine!

That night you learn something important. No matter what amazingly kinky things we do as Master and Slave, I'm at my absolute hottest and most passionate as Sarah, when I feel pleased, secure, happy and complete. The way it makes me feel to welcome my man into our family.

I am insatiable. The minute the bedroom door is closed I'm undressing you, pressing my finger to your lips, "shhhhhh.. you wont need HER tonight… but of curse she is there, your special pet, Flame. All the nasty lessons she has learnt. All the tricks she has added to her sexual repertoire, they're all on display. Every special nuance she has learnt that turns you on… Before you know it we are both standing naked and I am kissing my way down your chest and dropping to my knees, taking your stiffening member into my soft, wet mouth. You've never seen me this passionate, I love you with my mouth and hands making you strain, full and hot and erect. Then I'm pushing you down onto my bed and straddling you with a ferocity and eagerness that only Flame has displayed before now. I reach for you and guide you inside me, I am so wet that I sink down onto your large erection in one lustful motion.

It's not that eager, submissive Flame looking deeply into your eyes tonight. It's an aggressive, sexually charged Sarah. Holding you hands above your head, riding you with wild abandon, grinding my sex hard against your pubic bone. I please you in EVERY possible way I can think of until every muscle in my body aches…. Every time you spend, my fingers are at your crutch again, gently coaxing you back to life… my mouth completing the job of bringing you to erection, and then it starts again. And when you think we cannot possibly do it again I roll off you and onto my back. My legs spread wide open, inviting, wanting… As you mount me my legs wrap around you, pulling you deep inside me and we settle into a long slow rhythm of love making that seems to go on and on for hours. Not the rough nasty fucking we enjoy as Master and Slave, but the gentle, giving and receiving of two people, equal partners, deeply in love. Our intimate dance continuing until the contractions started and my need spurs you to thrust into me faster and deeper, my heels dig into your back, our bodies spasm and writhe together as our pleasure climbs new heights. My whole body sang as I could swear I felt the tip of your dick pressing against my cervix, my inner muscles grasping you and milking you as you spurted and spurted your hot thick cum deep up inside me…

Afterwards, in the dark, as we glow in the aftermath of our union, I tell you the things I thought I'd never have the courage to tell. About psycho Mike, and psycho me. Selfish Mike. Stupid, selfish me. Of endless, hopeless arguments. A mad out-of-control roundabout that neither of could find the courage to get off. Hating him. Hating myself. Seeing him in hospital, vacant and broken. Drunken bliss. Endless despair. Love and pain and what happens when there is no love left. Only pain. And when pain is the only emotion left that makes you feel SOMETHING and you just want to crawl up and die.

Here I am with my heart in my hand, but it's mended. I'm not some fragile creature. I'm not telling you this because I want your pity. Just your understanding. I'm stronger and better and there's just a little scar tissue and, so log as you don't hurt me, that'll soon heal over and disappear without trace. What's in the past is in the past. But its important you know.

As the salty drops cascade down my face you hold me. I mean you REALY hold me. Not how a guy thinks a girl should be held until they can escape and get the next plane to Memphis! But a soft, yet firm embrace that says… EVERYTHING is going to be alright.

And of course everything is alright. But in the morning I'm a little distant. You understand. Don't you? I know it's a lot to take in. I'm scared. Scared for opening up. Scared about being rejected. Scared I've freaked you out. And we are back where we were. Complete Sarah's has gone as quickly as she appeared (she only does guest appearances!). You're left with the dynamic duo (Sarah and Flame). Which is not a bad thing!

When I'm scared, I find it hard to put my feelings into words. In fact, giving voice to them just seems to make them real. Please, when I'm scared, just show me some affection; give me a hug, hold my hand, brush my hair with your hand, gestures that show me that things between us are still kewl.

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It's Sunday. Sunday races at Ocean Grove. We're all going. And because Mum's on some fund raising committee thingy we have guest passes and have to look our best.

I hope Uncle Laurie didn't lay it on too thick when you went with him down to his shop to find a decent suit? You look like such a hottie in a tux. I can't believe I forgot to tell you to bring a suit! Well, if you must be mad, take it out on Flame!

Me? Well buster! First choice was kinda out! I didn't figure on this. Well, I did, and that's why I'd never got a tattoo before now. This sexy red dress with a plunging back-line that I had my heart set on wearing is so kewl! Only when I put it on and looked over my shoulder in the mirror, there's a little tattoo of a flame peeking out. Right there at the top of my ass crack. You can see the flame and if you get at the right angle, no doubt you would also be able to read the words proclaiming me as your property. That won't do today! No matter how badly I want to go just like that, this is family we're talking about and it'll raise too many questions, and create WAY too much fuss.

Second choice. Not bad! A strapless, turquoise-blue cocktail dress, which leaves my shoulders beautifully bare. Pink flower buds are sown into the low-cut bust line, which is tight and firm thanks to my old faithful, wonder-bra. The dress hugs me down my waistline, fitting tight and sleek across my belly, hips and ass and clinging to my body in a elegant but sexy way, kinda showing that my slender body is both firm and soft, in all the right places. The length of the dress really sets my legs off nicely, with a split all the way down my right leg, from the top of my thigh to my ankles. My hair's in long tight braids (thanks cousin Marci) and completing the outfit, a matching blue clutch purse and gold necklace with a little emerald pendant and matching earrings.

Marci, by the way, has been making eyes at you all morning! Yeah, don't think I didn't notice! Sitting there pretending to be braiding my hair but checking you out. She's a precocious, tease of a 16 year old who has been getting into the pub since she was 15 and changes boyfriends almost as often as her hair color. Take my advice, stay away!! Hehehe…

Okay. Still with me? Good. We're at the races!!!

Mum is on some fundraising thingy and they are having a "slave auction" to raise some money for the hospital. Charity dos are not really my thing. But champagne sure is and after opening my heart to you last night I'm gulping them down faster than cousin Brad can keep them up to me.

Anyway. My ever community-minded Mum has been trying to convince me that its like, my "civic duty" to sign up for the auction for weeks. Each time I just try and change the subject. The last thing I need, I'm sure you'd agree, is another Master/Mistress. I am a "one gal, one Master" kinda gal. And I know it's all harmless fun and nothing like what we do, but still, who needs the added complication?

Mum says it's simple. Each "slave" is put up for auction and the highest bidder wins their services for a weekend. Apparently plumbers and the like are expected to be in high demand cos they never show up when they're supposed to! I dunno what anyone is gunna be able to do with me, other than stupid crappy work! Its not like I can go defend them in court or prepare their will or anything, yet (actually I probably could do a decent Will, but my Torts lecturer said make sure you do a really crap job the first time you do pro-bono work for any family or friends, that way word will soon get around that you are crap and no one will ask you again!! Kewl huh? The only people a lawyer wants a bad rep with are her family and friends).

Anyway, you get the point, huh? The idea of washing the skid marks out of some old mans dirty laundry, cleaning his dentures and changing his colostomy bag doesn't exactly light my fire!

I guess its just as well they know nothing about my special slave training!! Hehehehe. If they did, they'd be lined up for a piece of my ass! But of course there is someone there at the racecourse who knows all about it.

You.

It's all a stroke of luck really. The chance to cast me in the role of a slave is too good to pass up. And when Mum enlists your help to get me a little tipsy so I agree to do it you can't believe your ears! Not only does she think your perfect for me, she's conspiring with you to get me drunk so that I'll agree to be auctioned as a slave!!

Of course your nasty designs go way beyond mundane chores. This could give you the chance to test the waters a little, even if it is supposed to be harmless fun. A chance to see how Sarah will take direction. Flame is a natural, but you know this diversion can't last forever. You saw for yourself last night how the distinctions between the two girls are starting to blur. And its probably not so healthy to lead such a scitzo existence. For either of us. So opportunity knocks for you to guide us another step along the path… And if things go the way you hope and plan, maybe we'll even take a quantum leap!

As I step up onto the auction block, the auctioneer, does his spiel. "Miss Sarah is a 19 year old arts / law student, a recent arrival from Darwin, but comes from good local stocks. I'm told she has excellent housekeeping and cooking skills, is a budding artist who can play the guitar well and the piano not so well. The perfect slave to tidy up your house, paint your portrait and strum a few tunes while you sit back and relax. Will someone start the bidding at $20?"

A few guys I have seen around at the pub start the bidding. For the moment its small-fry. You wait for them to bid me up before upping the stakes and they quickly drop out once they realize I wont be an easy bargain!

The bidding stands at $75 and the auctioneer raises his hammer and asks "any last bids". And your plans are almost dashed by a handsome butch looking woman in her mid forties. She enters the fray and gives you a real run for your money, pushing the bidding higher and higher. Like you, she has been biding her time. He first bid ups the ante by $100 and the two of you go at it in a flurry. Soon the bidding is over $200, then $300.

"$500", she declares, with a triumphant smile. She's not going to let me slip through her grasp.

Jean Wilson is a local matriarch who inherited a huge fortune when she was 18 and spends her time as the fickle patron of whatever cause grabs her fancy that week. She is on the Board at the hospital where my Mum works, and is definitely not a woman to be crossed. I've met her a few times and the way she looks at me gives me goose bumps! Rumor has it that she castrated her husband with a piece of fencing wire on their wedding night!!

But you're not to be denied. In the end it costs your $1,125 to win me. The highest bid of the entire auction, but you figure money well spent. In fact, you realise that this will allow you to cancel the personalized valet/meal service at the retreat. You'll only come out a few bucks behind!

I'm absolutely wrapt, the idea of having to spend a weekend at Jean's, with her creepy eyes, and strange effeminate husband, well lets just say – I'm not that into freak shows.

As the drinks flow throughout the afternoon, mosta my family and friends, rib you for paying so much for me! Aunty Margi declares to you that "you're a silly bugger, paying for what you can get for free…" trust Margi to go straight for the smutty angle! With good humor you tell her you have months of cleaning to do at home and a property inspection coming up and "the toilet has never seen a brush, so she'll have to work her butt off'.

Later, well oiled from the cocktails she has been consuming, Jean saunters over to you and laments her missed opportunity. She is a handsome and stern looking woman, absorbed by her own self importance. Her wealth and influence has meant she has rarely been challenge for her strange and eccentric ways. Used to getting her way, she's pissed with you for crossing her.

"Lovely girl, your Sarah." Her arm directs your gaze across the pavilion to where I am fooling around at the bar with cousin, Brad, a glass of champagne held deftly in my fingers.

"I was planning a lovely weekend at home for my husband and I" she almost spits out the word husband. "You see, I had such plans for your delicious Sarah. Once I heard she might be up for grabs – well, I practically talked her mother into it. We were going to have such an exquisite time her and I. I would have bid a lot more you know, but then it would only arouse suspicion. And there are already enough scurrilous stories about me going around to fill a library. So young man, you got her. But if you find she's too willful, well. You can always sell her on to me. I'd pay you 100 times what you won her for, I spent all last week picking out these delightfully wicked outfits for her, it would be a shame to see such pretty things get packed in mothballs."

Looking around to make sure no one can over hear you, you drop your voice a little and confide "That wont be necessary, Sarah's training is going along just perfectly. She's taken to my disciple like a duck to water. A most lovely pet."

This tantalizing piece of information clearly peaks her interest. Her brow raises, and she reaches into her bag and hands you her card. It bears simply her name, phone number and email address, which you repeat out loud "dombitch@littlepond.com, oh! very nice!"

"I throw special parties" she offers in a conspiratorial tone. "Where girls like Your Sarah can be fully appreciated. When you're ready, you be in touch. Its not right for you to keep such a beautiful pet to yourself."

You tuck the card into your wallet and watch her stride purposefully away. This woman is clearly a full blown dyke-dominatrix! You're kinda surprised to find someone like this all the way out here in quiet sleepy Ocean Grove! But perhaps you'll take up her offer someday. She certainly had my number. You start to wonder, what it is about me that seems to attract such dominant personalities? "Like moths to a flame…." You mutter, not quite under your breath.

"Like whatsies to a whatsy?" I'm in front of you, swaying a little from side to side, a tipsy impish smile across my face. "So, what were you and Dyke-features blathering about?"

"Nothing much." And quickly changing the subject you ask. "Anyway, how much have you had to drink?"

"Only a itsy titsy litsy bit… not mush at all." I'm slurring a little, but its mostly for playful show.

You take me firmly by the arm, "common lets take a walk…." We've got the long drive home later and a drunk Sarah is not really part of your plans.

Arm in arm we walk down past the starting gates to the mounting yards to watch the horses being led around. Its an impressive sight, their sleek coats shining in the afternoon sun, their powerful legs moving them around with such purpose, their hooves munching up the dirt.

We continue our walk down to the stables, and their at the end of the stalls we come across a magnificent proud stallion. I hold out my hand and he comes over to us, nuzzling against my hand.

"I wish we could take him for a ride!" I say wistfully.

Then I notice the obscenely distended prong protruding beneath his belly and start giggling. "Poor old fella, wont they let you play with the girls?" hehehheehehehehe. Then sizing up the enormous size, my hand drifts to your crutch, searching for the bulge in your pants and firmly squeezing you I playfully add, with wide eyes "its ALMOST as huge as yours!"