The Order of Zarathustra

This Old House of Bondage

"Chunk, or stream?" Khan asked after Rachel shut down the chainsaw. She was helping him clear the yard of his latest acquisition, and he had taught her the basics of using the saw. He brushed the sawdust off his chest, surveying the yard and the small house he had purchased. She walked over to get her water bottle, to buy time as much as to satisfy her thirst.

OK, Chunk means he wants to flip it,

she thought as she eyed the back of the little house he had bought last month.

He said he paid, what, 55 for it? Then new roof, other bullshit, call it ten grand extra. If he sold it, he said it was worth 75, so he'd only make ten grand. For him that's a small chunk.

She smiled at him as she walked back to him, handing him the water bottle, which he killed in a long swig. It was pretty hot out here for the middle of May. She had put her long brown hair in pigtails to keep it under control while she worked. She fiddled with one as she kept thinking, fast.

Stream would mean renting it out, getting an income stream. If it's like his other places, he'd get about $600 a month, after taxes say five...

She was desperate to impress him. If she had a crush on him when she became his Apprentice, six weeks of sex had made her obsessed with him. She would actually get wet watching him work. Not knowing the right answer, she split the difference. "For you, chunk. For me, stream." They had finished felling the dead tree and cutting it up into rounds. Khan started picking up the heavy rounds and flinging them casually into the trailer as he motioned for her to continue. "You already have three little rentals just like this one. Another would just be a hassle to you, so even if you only clear ten grand, better to get out quick and on to the next project. Me, on the other hand, getting $500 a month for me is a big deal, it's worth the hassle." She helped picking up the heavy wooden rounds. She struggled with two hands to walk one of them over to the trailer. In that time, he had picked up four more and tossed them two handed as easily as passing a basketball. She picked up a few more, but when he started scooping some up one handed and tossing them like toys into the trailer, she just stopped and gawked.

He is SO strong. He could toss me around like a piece of firewood if he wanted. Please, Mr. Lumberjack, I've been a naughty log....Wow. That was so lame. SO lame.

"You working or watching?"

She hid her embarrassment by rolling her eyes. "You're just showing off now. I mean really. What, are you part Terminator or what?"

Her comment made him falter and pause in mid throw, more than she would have thought. "Let's say good genes. My Mother was a Sikh, from northern India. They're known as tall, proud warriors."

"Wait, you're part Indian? You never said anything about that before."

He stopped and looked at her intently. "Does it matter to you?"

"No, uh, no, it's just, I dunno, I never put two and two together. You don't talk like an Indian, so.."

"I've never been to India. I was born here. I served in the Army as a translator. Yet all of that counts for nothing because a bunch of terrorists ran some planes into New York last year."

Rachel tried to lighten the mood a little. "So, your Dad must have been huge, then."

"Finish coiling up the rope. We're done with that here."

"Was she a mountain climber? Did she climb him?"

"You are beginning to annoy me."

"Let me guess, she got drunk at a bonfire, met a Sasquatch, he promised he'd pull out?" she teased.

Khan threw the last of the wood into the trailer and walked over to her, calmly.

"Papa was a Belgian, actually. Large build, from good Teutonic stock." He pointed a finger at her nose. "Do not take this as a test, or challenge. Do not ever speak badly about my Mother, or my heritage, again. Ever."

She stared at his large dirty finger. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize... "

He placed his finger on her lips, quieting her. "And now you do realize. Thank you for respecting that."

She hadn't really seen it before, but now that he said he was half Indian she could see that. She had assumed his features and mocha coloring were more from just working out in the sun.

Embarrassed, she turned and started tying up the bundles of brush with twine for something to do, using awkward knots. She tried to break the tension by changing the subject.

"Um, I have a question. You and Kayden are both Masters, obviously, but you have very different ... styles. Did you guys go to different Master schools, like is she a Slytherin, and you're Griffindor, or?"

Khan chuckled as he stowed the chainsaw and gear in the truck. "That's from that movie that came out last Christmas! I didn't see it, but I did read the first book. There's three of them, you know. No, the Order of Zarathustra isn't that big, and we don't have an academy or formal schools. My father was a Zarathustran, and so that's how I knew of the tenets of the Order. Kayden's evolution was more .. organic. She learned in the school of hard knocks, so to speak. She married in."

Rachel had been fighting the bundles of brush, wrapping them in twine and making a mess of tying granny knots to hold them.

"No, no, not like that. Here, hold out your arm," he said, grabbing the heavy painter's rope they used to guide the tree earlier. "Fold the line in half, and take it by the bend, see? Now, loop it around the load, and the two ends go through like that. It's called a Lark's head. Simple."

She slipped the rope off her arm. "Here, let me try."

He held out his massive forearm, and she made a Lark's head around it -- and then grabbed his other arm, and with a manic grin wrapped the rope around his wrists several time, binding him!

She took a step back, folding her arms and looking smugly triumphant. "I think now would be a great time to ask for a raise, don't you?"

"You get paid plenty, in knowledge." Khan twisted his wrists back and forth, and in seconds had unwrapped himself, to her dismay. "When I saw what you were doing, I made fists to make my forearms bulge and held my arms apart a smidge, which helped," he explained as he grabbed her arm. "You also don't just wrap it around. First, Lark's head on one wrist like this, then grab the other, like so, and throw a whole loop around it. Then, do several figure eights, like this. See how it gets a little tighter with each lashing? The lashings also conceal the part of the rope holding you, which helps. There," he said as he drew the two ends of the long heavy rope through the knot, like two lead ropes.

Rachel and Khan looked at each other. Then down at her hands. Then back at each other.

"Well this just escalated quickly," she said. He cocked a single eyebrow, then her Master picked up the two rope ends and proceeded to lead her across the yard and back towards the house like a prisoner of war.

Practice time

! She thought as he led her along. Ever since Kayden had given her blessing that Rachel develop her fellatio skills on her husband six weeks ago, she had been 'practicing' a couple times a week with Khan. The last two weeks, she had been spending most afternoons with him here at the project house, learning all sorts of things about home repairs, Nietzsche and cock worship. She already felt worlds different than when she first started her Apprenticeship. She kept losing weight and gaining strength every week. You tended to stick to your diet and exercise when you knew you were going be stripped naked in front of your drill sergeants at the end of each week. She had more confidence and motivation. She was so eager to be with him again in their little love shack that her lead rope had a lot of slack in it.

Khan looked behind him as he walked. "You could fight a little, you know?

The Struggle makes you Stronger."

"The Struggle gives you Rope Burns. Lead on, Master."

He took her in through the garage. In this house, the only entry into the basement was down a set of concrete stairs from the garage, which had seemed odd to her. He led her down the steps, turning on the bare lightbulb over the laundry part where the empty washer and dryer hookups were next to a big wash sink. He led her to the metal I beam that ran the length of the big empty basement, drawing her ropes up and over until her arms stretched up overhead. He made sure she could stand flat footed, then tied them off. Then he pulled off his sweaty T shirt, folding it neatly and putting it on a shelf. She watched his shoulders move. She would watch him brush his teeth every morning if he'd let her.

He went over to the sink, let it run to get cold, and got a plastic cup. "By the way, if I wanted to be mean, I could have put you on your tiptoes. Cruel would be to actually hang you. Most people, their shoulder joints will pop out if they have to hold themselves up like that for long. Food for thought."

He took a long drink, then refilled the cup and brought it to her. He held it to her lips, gently, tenderly. It was cold, and he didn't mean to but she spilled a little down her face and chin. A few drops spilled on her dirty T shirt. Raising an eyebrow, her Master went back to the sink. Refilled the cup. And walked back to her. Grinning.

"No, nonono!" she cried as she realized what he was up to. With no way to defend herself, he poured it deliberately across her chest as she squealed. Then he went back to the sink. Refilled the cup. And walked back to her. She twisted and giggled, then shrieked again as the cold water poured down her front. For her, the silver lining to being chubby had been having big boobs. In the cool basement, her nipples were now poking through her bra and T shirt, clinging to her D cup tits. Khan went back to the sink. Refilled the cup. And walked back to her.

This time, he spun her around, then doused her back, causing another scream. He then pulled her sopping wet shirt up until it was caught around her bound hands. He unhooked her bra and undid the shoulder strap hooks so that he could remove the thing entirely. He spun her around again and kissed her deeply, cupping a breast. Then he went to the sink. Refilled the cup. And walked back to her.

She spun herself around, trying in vain to keep her back to him, as if that would be better. She was laughing, pleading, babbling for him to stop. He set the cup down long enough to reach both hands around her hips and undo her wet blue jeans. Unzipped them. Then he poured the cup of cold water right down her crotch as she screamed again. His hand reached into her fly, finding her mound over soaked cotton panties. He held her tight against his chest as he rubbed her from behind. He kissed and nibbled along her ears and neck. Her pigtails left her exposed to his lips.

He poured several more cups of water down her pants. Each time, the anticipation of him refilling the cup and coming up behind her left her breathless. Being forced to wait for him to refill and return turned her on as much as anything else. Then the bracing cold, followed by the pleasure of his hand as finger fucked her there, helpless and bound in the empty basement. As one muscular hand flexed quickly inside her pants, the other wrapped around her chest, holding her breasts captive, tweaking the nipples, his breath hot and sexy in her ear.

He peeled her jeans down around her ankles, then stepped on them. Being wet, and with her shoes still on, they might as well been leg irons. He kicked her feet apart and kept frigging her with his hand reached around inside her panties. She could feel his hard on pressing against her back.

Didn't I have this fantasy like this about him a few weeks ago? Except that was in a cave. And he was a Viking.

She felt so thankful her that this amazing man wanted her, actively wanted to spend time with her, enjoying her body. It had given her a confidence she had never known before. And he was so fucking good at this! His hands could read her body like Braille. Her breathing grew rapid, with his whispers in her ear encouraging her. "Come, Rachel. Come for your Master. Let it out, baby. It's alright. Let go."

And then she came.

She came hard, twisting and jerking on her restraints with pent up tension. He let her enjoy it; even though she had been giving him head several times a week, her only release had been at the weekly Crucibles. He had used it as a series of lessons in discipline and delayed reward. When she finally finished, he turned her around and held her. He undid the rope long enough to get her shirt untangled, then retied her. He knelt down and untied her shoes and pulled off her wet pants, leaving her tied to the I beam in just her panties. He took her clothes and went up the stairs, outside. Standing on tiptoes, she could just see him out the window. He arranged her wet clothes on the fence to dry. Her heart melted a little that he would be that thoughtful. She swung back and forth from her restraints, full of nervous energy and grinning ear to ear, impatiently awaiting his return.

"I'm surprised you let me come, though I'm not complaining!"

"I just wanted to loosen you up for what comes next."

"Next?"

He reached up and untied her two ropes overhead, then unlashed and released her wrists. "Rub them, shake them out a little," he ordered, coiling the rope into a neat loop. "Whenever you restrain someone, don't leave them too long in the same position with the same knots. You want to make sure the rope isn't injuring them."

Before she could say anything, he swept down and scooped her up in a fireman's carry over his shoulder. With a smack on her ass, he carried her up the basement steps naked, through the kitchen and into the bedroom. He had an air mattress blown up here, and a bag of personal items for himself. It wasn't unusual when he was on a project to sleep over some nights, so as to get a jump on things that much quicker. Setting her down, he threw a Lark's head around her wrist, looped the other, and lashed them together as before in front of her, with two lead ropes coming off.

"Kneel, please."

She got down on the air mattress, spreading her knees apart. He drew the two lines under her panties and up her back, slowly. It gave her goosebumps, even in the stuffy heat of the not air conditioned room. The ropes pulled her bound hands right down to her pussy. He crossed the rope ends in front of her throat, and tied a square knot. When he let go, she realized if she kept herself up straight, she was fine. If she bent forward or pulled with her hands, the knot would choke her. She looked up at him expectantly, hungrily. He took his time taking off his shoes, then his pants. He wore no boxers today. He neatly folded his pants and put them in his pack, with shoes beside. Naked, with a thick growing erection, he knelt behind his willing captive.

He reached into the bag, taking a tube of suntan lotion. He squirted a small bit on her chest, then massaged it in with both hands. She sighed with pleasure. His hands settled along her waist, pulling on the elastic of her panties. They were fairly wide, covering her entire thick ass. Well used, they were off white with little pink flowers. He murmured in her ear, "How much did these cost?"

"Um, like 2 or 3 bucks, they were on sale.."

He violently pulled up on her soaked panties, and forcibly ripped the back out and away until the elastic hung around her like a belt, the ruined strip of cotton hanging down. "Looks like I owe you five. Get two pair for later. And consider yourself on notice. From now on, any panties that I feel do not highlight your sexy body will be dealt with accordingly. I will rip them from your body."

Then he pressed her forward, gently but firmly, until her face was down on the air mattress with her ass sticking up in the air. The ropes up her back pulled on her throat, but not too bad. He squirted a little more lotion on her butt, rubbing it in, playing with her anus.

Lubricating his thumb with more lotion, he slid it into her butthole up to the first knuckle. She gasped and jumped, choking herself. He put a hand on the back of her neck, pressing her into the plastic air mattress, immobilizing her.

"Fuck me," she breathed impatiently. "I always wanted to try that. Fuck me in the ass, Master."

He moved his thumb slowly in and out, only about halfway in. She winced with every thrust. "No, as much as I'd like that little girl, you're not ready for that today. Maybe after some lessons."

"I can take it!" she tried to back her ass up into his hand. Between his hand on her neck and the ropes tight on her neck, she couldn't go far. "Fuck you, don't tease me! Give me your cock! Butt fuck me!"

He scooted around to her head, and pulled up on the ropes. Hard. She gasped for air as he suspended her off the mattress by the restraints. "You're trying to bait me with cursing. You want this, back there?" he asked, wagging his thick cock in her face. She nodded as she gasped. He pressed forward, shoving his cock in her mouth. He let up on the tension on the choke line, but pushed his cock deeper in. He hadn't forced her to deep throat him before. It was something she had been hesitant about, and he had been patient with her. This time, she felt the head of his prick hit the back of her mouth, then push into her throat. It burned! It hurt! She couldn't breathe! After a few seconds, she was coughing and gagging.

He pulled out, letting her sputter and gag on the mattress. "See, now you couldn't even take my cock in your mouth, not fully. Now which is bigger, my thumb or my cock? Hmmm?" He grabbed her pigtail and beat her cheek with his dick to get her attention.

"Your cock is bigger, Master."

"Just a little bigger?" He kept slapping her helpless face with his pecker.

"No! Lots bigger, Master. When I put both hands around it, the head still sticks out. You're like a foot long Master!"

He chuckled as he maneuvered behind her, resting his cock in the crack of her ass. "Let's not flatter. It's only nine inches. Still, without lotion or anything, if I shove it in your ass now, that's going to be excruciating. Is that really where you want it?"

"Put it wherever you want," she said. "I know you'll take care of me."

"I think before the next Crucible, I'll fit you with a butt plug. Once I've got you stretched out a little back there, used to the idea, then perhaps I can indulge in some sodomy. Pity, not today though."

He stroked the back of her head, down her back. Then he pressed his cock against her pussy, and slipped it in. He filled her up, sawing in and out slowly. He liked to angle his hips so the top of his cock head raked her. She loved it. He used the choke lines as reins, pulling her up as he thrust. She could just reach her clit with her tied hands, so she rubbed herself as he fucked her. He rode her like he owned her, with nothing better to do all day. In just a minute or two, she came again, the walls of her pussy clenching against his thick shaft. She lay sweating in the fetal position.

He untied the knot at her neck so she could breathe better. Flipping her on her back, he drew the lines down, this time wrapping them around each leg before bending them and tying off at her ankles. She found that, if she kept her legs flexed in a frog position, she was fine. If she straightened her legs out, the coils around her thick thighs would bite in painfully. Her hands were still covering her crotch. He flipped her back onto her knees like she weighed nothing, her face buried again in the air mattress as her ass pushed up in the air.

"Now, we need to discuss something," he said as he applied more lotion to his thumb and slid it up her butt, causing her to hiss. "You've been a bad girl."

"I have no idea Uhhh what you're talking about."

He worked her butt with his thumb. Sometimes he would push in and out, other times he would twist it around. He could also flex and bend it while inside her. He started massaging her pussy from behind, almost touching her bound fingers.