Second Chance Last Chance

(Many- per haps 15 years ago a I read a story that started more or less this way, I think. It stayed with me. So I want to thank that unknown author for the inspiration and hope that my imagination has taken this in a different enough direction that it stands as a homage instead of an act of plagarism.)

Valerie was nauseous with anxiety. She couldn't eat, she had anxious jitters while she bathed and dressed. She had to redo her eye makeup three times because her hands were shaking.

Five years ago, she had made a terrible mistake, she knew that now. She thought she was making the right choice when she walked out on her then husband. She was wrong. Good choices come from positive places within you. Her choice had come from fear. Back then she thought she feared him. She now realized that she had been afraid of herself, of who and what she really was. He had been harsh, scary even, but that was because he knew what she truly needed.

She had run, divorced and then married a guy who was safe, reliable, kind even and generous enough. He was a good man who would probably make a good father someday. But he had no fire, no determination. She didn't try to boss him, but he always caved so easily. Over time she came to grasp that she needed strength in a man, maybe even dominance. She found making all the decisions in their home exhausting. And, oh yeah, the sex was dull.

Five years ago she thought that was the life she needed. It had been a terrible mistake. She was bored, depressed and in need of ungentlemanly treatment. What she really wanted was what she had run from.

Tonight she was going back, to beg forgiveness, to beg for a second chance...to beg to submit. She was terrified both by the prospect that he might say yes, and equally by the concern than he might say no.

Too nervous to drive, she had called an Uber to take her to her former home. She had emailed asking to meet...Please! She had a request. He had replied with nothing more than a date and time...this day, this hour.

She rang the bell and waited...and waited. She considered ringing again but instead just stood there in the chilly spring evening. She reminded herself that just being here was an act of submission. And what to submissive do? They give control to the Master. So she waited.

After several minutes the heavy wooden door opened and there he stood, her ex, the man from whom she had run. He stepped back silently allowing her to enter. No greeting. He led her to a sitting room and sat in his imposing wing chair. She remained standing looking at the floor.

"Wine?" he asked.

"Oh, yes please...sir. This is hard. It might help."

He poured her a generous glass, himself less than half that amount.

"Sit." It was not an invitation, but a command. Valerie sat.

"Why are you here?"

"Ben...Bennett...sir... her voice trailed off."

"Are you here to waste my time? If so, drink up and go. But if you have something to say, say it now. You have one chance."

She gulped. "I was wrong to leave. I treated you very badly. I was wrong to refuse. I was afraid of you...of myself and my feelings. I want another chance, please?

"That's not nearly good enough. Be clear."

"Sir when you bound me that night and told me you owned me I was terrified. You took me that night...I didn't give myself to you...but neither did I ask you to stop. I was so aroused, Bennett and it scared me. When you freed me and went to sleep, I ran. That was wrong on many levels, but I kept running.

"I divorced you and quickly married the safest man I could find..."

"And?"

"From the very beginning whenever he made love to me I imagined I was tied up and being fucked by you."

"And?"

"I would like you to take me back. To use me, to make me serve you."

"I think there is a word you know but dare not speak."

"Please make me your slave. Make me serve you." Tears quietly rolled down my cheeks.

"This is an odd request coming from a woman who is married, expensively dressed and sipping good wine on my couch."

I looked at him, startled and confused. I suppose I imagined we would negotiate some arrangement that was gradual and mutually agreeable. Well, I would discover that we would come to an agreement, just not the slow and gentle way I had imagined. I had a lot to learn.

"If you want to be a slave, act like a slave!"

Slowly I knelt on the floor before him.

"Good first step, but not quite enough."

A bolt of fear shot up may back. I stood, understanding finally. I had to demonstrate my need. With trembling fingers I began to undress.

"This isn't your boudoir, my dear. STRIP NOW!"

I threw off my clothes too fearful to even be embarrassed or ashamed. When he spoke harshly my nipples hardened and my pus...my cunt started to leak.

Naked I knelt again.

"Not there...over on the hardwood floor in the front hall. Hands behind your back and look at me."

"I have no idea if you are for real or just a confused little girl. Do you have any idea what being a slave really is? Do you think it's just toy handcuffs and the occasional blow job? I have company coming any minute now. You will not speak at all until I tell you, you will follow us on your hands and knees into my playroom, and while I am enjoying my friend, you will take pen and paper and write down not what you hope will happen, but what you think will happen, how you will serve me, and what that will mean to you. This will be your only chance to witness a real kind of slavery. If I accept you, you will be the real slave from here on.

"Oh, and if you were hoping for a quick fuck, it won't be tonight, though you will get to taste my cum...if you don't run away a second time.

"Frankly, I don't trust you Valerie. It may well be that you need my guidance and would benefit from it, but you were too fucked up to know it then and I am not at all sure you know what you want now. Before I make any decision, you will need testing. Where is your husband? Does he know you are here?"

"No...Master..."

"I am not your Master yet and may never be. Call me Sir."

"He does not know. Sir. He is away for three weeks on a work trip."

"Very well, your testing and training could last up to three weeks then. I may dismiss you at any time, but it could last that long...and then I could choose to dismiss you anyway. Of course, you can run away anytime, Valerie."

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Open the door, cunt."

"But..." I was naked and had no idea who was at the door...but the protest died in my throat. This was the first of many tests. I rose and opened the door and even squeaked out a 'welcome'!

The young - like barely legal -woman in the knee length coat looked at me slightly startled, but far from wide-eyed. Standing in the open door, she removed the coat. She was naked but for boots, cuffs and a one inch black collar. Oh and yes, there was also the glint from rings in her nipples and pussy lips. She was young and gorgeous with high firm tits, a slim athletic figure and short blonde hair. Handing me the coat, she walked past me, straight up to my ex husband and knelt before him.

"Good evening, Master Bennett. I am here to serve."

It was obviously a ritual greeting for as soon as he touched her cheek she rose and asked more conversationally, "A new playmate, Master?"

"Mmmm sort of and not quite. Meet my ex-wife. Call her cunt. She ran away once, but has now returned seeking enslavement to me. I think she wants to pick up where we left off, perhaps realizing the error of her ways. Of course, if I accept her, where we left off is not really even where we begin. I have discovered a much stronger dominant streak that she never experienced. Enslavement to me is more demanding than she can imagine."

I blushed and made to speak, but Bennett just held up a hand to silence me while looking at the new arrival. He fixed a leash to her collar and quickly fastened her cuffs behind her and turned her to face me. Looking into my eyes he caressed her from neck to ass in soft long strokes then again up her front. He toyed with her breasts while kissing her neck. She leaned back on his shoulder with eyes closed and lips slightly parted. His hands moved downwards reaching her vagina. She spread her legs and Master Ben caressed her mound for awhile eliciting a happy murmur.

He picked up her leash and started leading her down the hall to the basement stairs. Over his shoulder he hurled, "Follow, cunt. Crawl." I was suddenly unsure that I knew what I was getting into. Part of me wanted to just leave. Part of me felt those nervous butterflies. But the biggest part of me needed to know, needed to figure out who I was. Staying home and safe would never answer the question that left me masturbating furiously on lonely nights.

Bennett led us downstairs to a large room he had remodelled since I left. It was clearly a dungeon with soft dark fabric walls, an assortment of hooks and rings at varying heights, a padded bench, a bed with frame, a wide bar with cuffs at each end suspended from a cable reaching the ceiling. There was a padded bench of some kind, a jail cell in one corner and low direct lighting. A rack of scary looking whips and paddles were on one wall next to a closed cabinet.

He turned and kissed the young woman deeply and unhooked the leash. Then he released her cuffs and attached each naked wrist to heavier cuffs connected to the bar hanging from the ceiling. Without being told, the girl spread her legs wide.

Ben...Sir Bennett turned to me. "You want to learn about slavery and what it means to me? Meet Emma. She is my sub, not my slave. We hook up from time to time when I want her and when she needs me. She is here tonight at her request. Why, Slut?"

"Because I need to be punished, Master. I have been quite a bitch lately and feel a need for an adjustment."

"Anything else? You know my only demand is total honesty"

"I need to be taken, to be fucked fast and hard and to have no choice how I am used. I am hot and needy and while I hope you let me come, I know even that is beyond my control. I give you my submission freely, Master."

Sir Bennet spoke, "Today she reached out begging for a session. She enjoys being punished and used. So you picked a good night to arrive, cunt. I am going to play with her for awhile however I feel like. She gave up control when she knelt before me at the door.

"Now, I want you to go into the corner and kneel facing the wall. There is a pad of paper on the cabinet. Start writing down why you want to be my slave, what you wish to offer me and what you hope for in return. You can even name your limits, if you know what that term means. If I like what I read, then your testing period will continue. But don't lie. Don't promise what you can't deliver, for I will find out and that will end our 'experiment' immediately. Understand, I am giving you a second chance, but also a last chance. Refuse and be gone. Fail a task and be gone. Forget that you understand the word 'no' or you will be gone."

All the while he was stroking her breasts and well spread pussy.

"Listen to what Emma and I do, but no peeking. You haven't earned the right to watch. Now go."

I scurried over on hands and knees getting the pad and pen on the way.

It wasn't my best quality writing, because I still wasn't sure what I wanted...and I was distracted by the sounds behind me. There was the jingling of restraints, the sighs that came from caresses, a sound that I later understood was the retrieval of various whip things. I heard the sound of the cabinet opening and closing, the mmmm that sounded like the girl being caressed then a sharp intake of breath and then another followed by "Oooooh that hurts good, Master." Then came slapping sounds that lasted quite awhile followed by the cracks of some kind of whip. Emma started making more sounds, gasps, grunts and finally loud cries of real pain sometimes interspersed with cries of "more, please Master!" At last it stopped and I heard chains rattling again, then movement, then straps being buckled. I heard the word "open" and then the sounds of slurping and licking. My God, he was getting a blow job from her right behind me!

And a moment later I felt silly. Of course she was giving him a blow job! She was probably bound in some way, had been cruelly punished. She really had no choice, but she had surrendered all choice, hadn't she? Could I ever do the same? I guess I will find out soon enough. Meanwhile my cunt was dripping. I think it was telling me to keep going towards slavery. I was turned on by the sound of Master having sex. That's what slaves do. They get used for sex any way the Master wants. More importantly they wanted to get used anyway Master wanted. I felt feverish as I listened and wrote. The slurping stopped.

"Turn around!" growled Sir Bennett.

Emma was strapped over the bench, arms tied down to each end and legs spread wide and bound to the bench at the ankles. Her tits dangled on either side of the narrow bench. She sported a leather blindfold. Sir Bennett was naked now. He spanked her already very red ass several times with his hand and then stepped up slamming his erection into her doggy style. Looking right at me he motioned me closer until my face was touching her straining thigh and I was forced to watch him plough her sloppy cunt. He pounded hard and fast showing neither mercy nor concern for Emma's pleasure or the sounds she was making. At last he grunted and shot his load into her.

"Now comes your first test. I told you I wouldn't fuck you, but that you would taste my cum. If you want to serve me, get in there and suck the cum out of her pussy. And she has been a very good little subbie, so she deserves to come. Keep laving her cunt and clit until she does...

"Or you can run away and never come back."

Gulp! The butterflies were back in force. I have never wanted to have sex with a girl, much less one who had just been fucked. Half of my brain yelled, "Run! Give up! Be safe!" The other half, said much more loudly, "This is what you want stupid...to be a slave...you are otherwise miserable, now get your slut face in her cunt."

Slowly I crawled between her legs and then with a deep breath, dove in. I had never given Bennett a 'real' blowjob when we were together. I sucked just enough to get him hard. Once or twice I did give him a hand job to make him cum, but I never licked my fingers after. Indeed, I had never tasted a man's semen...until now. The task was pushing me hard. I felt humiliated on my knees, naked facing down the sloppy used cunt of a total stranger. And yet, my nipples were rock hard and my cunt was still dripping. Perhaps I really was suited to being a slave.

The taste was salty and tart. I can't say I liked it, but that demanding voice in my head kept pushing me on. I licked and slurped and swallowed. It wasn't easy. I am glad Bennett could not see the unpleasant faces I was making. And there was another problem. I had been ordered to make Emma cum, but she was bent over the bench in such a way that I couldn't really get to her clit. Not that I really knew what I was doing.

I heard sucking noises and realized that Emma must be cleaning his cock with her mouth. Ewww. Then I realized she wasn't getting any more yucky a taste than I was...and that I was getting a lot more of it. It seems Master Bennett really needed to cum! I would grow to love the taste in time, but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself.

When Master Bennett finished getting his cock cleaned, I heard Emma say, "Thank you Master for punishing me, and fucking my holes."

"Has cunt made you come?"

"No, Master."

"Stupid cunt. Get away from her and lie on your back on the floor." He unstrapped Emma. "Stupid cunt needs punishment and then to finish her job or she fails."

He handed Emma a soft flogger. I would later learn it was a relatively gentle whipping tool when in kind hands.

"Sit on her face and whip her cunt five times, and then once a minute until she makes you come...no, makes you come twice' since she has failed so miserably the first time."

I could feel myself flushing red at the humiliation, but if anything my body responded even more feverishly.

Emma spread her legs and knelt on either side of my head keeping her glistening cunt a few inches from my face. The first strike caused me to convulse with my head lifting up and banging her pussy. "Ow!" she cried. The second swat was considerably harder. I tried to cover my pussy, but Master Bennett's ferocious growl warned me to not cover up. I suddenly understood that punishment was to be endured and pain was a gift given to the dominant. Lesson learned, I guess.

When she finished the fifth strike Emma lowered her cunt to my face and I began to pleasure her with all I had. Having no experience with other women I simply offered the things I liked and hoped it worked. Emma was hot from her punishment and exploded over my face before the first minute was up. I would endure three more cunt strokes before I managed to get her off a second time.

Emma rose and knelt before my ex-husband. "Thank you Master Bennett!" It took me a second before I realized I was not exempt. I scrambled to my knees before him, "Thank you M.. Sir Bennett! (I remembered!). Can I serve you further?"

"Emma, go have a shower and then join us in the living room. Cunt, if you have not finished, complete your "Why I want to be a slave essay," while she showers and join me there. Remain on hands and knees and carry your words in your teeth. Go!

To be continued.