I slept deep -- my dreams pleasant and warm. Tonight I found the gate of ivory and passed into a wish-born world of green fields and rivers. My cares and sundry crises dissipated like mists. No more tests or trials. I was the dominus Titus and all that lay ahead were wanton splendors and wicked wonders. Nymphs frolicked in the pastoral expanse and I reached out and claimed the fairest. She smiled at my touch. Her love was so simple and so certain.
And then... And then, what? The nymph began to pull away. The dream was dying and yet, I still felt some of its warmth. I opened my eyes and saw only soft light filtered through faded motel curtains. I heard the gentle rustling of bed linens and the low thrum of the air conditioner. There was a moment of uncertainty. Something was out of place. Something had followed me over from the dream world. There was movement in the bed and ...
Ah, yes, Sam was blowing me.
I closed my eyes and let the sensation simply happen. Her mouth, warm, wet and eager, suckled my already hard cock. I felt her tongue dancing up and down my shaft. I sighed. Barely awake, almost dreaming, I was already close to release.
"If you don't stop," I cautioned her, "you're going to get a mouthful."
She gazed up and pierced me with those sorcerous green eyes. "Feed me, dominus. I starve."
That was enough. I came. Not desperate and frantic like the night before. Not the pent up pressure of months and years, exams and expectations. This was gentle. I made no effort to resist her capable oral efforts. I just let it go. Marvelous. She drank down all I gave her and when I was done, smiled almost innocently.
"Good morning," she chimed.
"Good morning," I answered with a laugh as if the sentiment was so obvious as to be absurd. "You, my dear, have permission to do that every morning."
Her innocent smile melted into something far more wicked as sucked on a slightly sticky finger. "Cream before my coffee, sir?"
"Exactly." Thanks dad.
"You were a beast last night," she whispered.
"You were an angel."
"The best sort of angel -- the fallen kind." She kept her wicked smile even as she nibbled at my ear. "Alas, I wish we could spend all day in bed, dominus, but you should take a shower and get cleaned up. C.C.'s opens in less than two hours and I'm sure you would like some breakfast after all your exertions."
This almost jarringly practical suggestion managed to dig its way into my sex-addled brain and find some purchase. "That, my dear, is an excellent idea. Know any place local?"
"I'm afraid I don't get out much, sir."
"Right. We'll ask the front desk. And please...Ty. Not sir."
"Of course. I will not forget again, Ty."
"I liked the 'dominus' though for, uh, special occasions." She gave me a mischievous giggle.
I leapt out of bed naked and almost directly into a hot shower. I was in fine spirits -- the sort of mood that only a young man freshly sucked and sexed could feel. But as the steady spray of liquid warmth cleansed me, I still found a moment or two for doubt. She had been so eager last night. And such a convincing tale of being ignored and cast aside. I recalled a moment from days long departed.
I was not even six when I had caught the child of a house slave with one of my toys. I couldn't even remember what it was. A race car? Action figure? Book? What did it matter? The child of slaves and thus, also a slave. I took it from him. The boy wanted it back. He grabbed it brazenly and cried it was his. What was his name? Only the gods remember.
I yelled for that toy, angry and indignant. It was mine. The slave boy had other ideas. He pushed back. My father and the boy's mother arrived on the scene just in time to witness the shove. I remembered my father's fury, seizing the little slave.
"You dare strike your dominus?!" I wondered then and there if he would break the boy's neck. At first, I felt vindicated and vengeful.
Short hours later, as the boy was tied to a post I felt instead nothing but guilt. My father uncoiled the lash. "Something to remember us by when you're on the block." The rawhide whip uncoiled in his hand like a serpent. The crack of leather lightning. The angry red welt. The crimson stripe. One and then another and another. Five lashes. I can't remember the slave's name but I remember every one as if it was made into my own flesh.
The mother begged, eyes full of inconsolable tears, that her son not be sold. Though my father stormed and threatened, Carl did in time relent. I still remembered my father's words after the matter was done.
"Do you know what really happened here, Ty? That boy didn't steal your toy. His mother did. Probably thought you wouldn't miss it."
"Why did you punish the boy then?"
"Punishing him punished her worse than anything I could have done. She felt every lash, son, I'll guarantee it. There will be no more theft."
"Why would she lie, dad? Why not take the punishment herself?"
"A child I can forgive. An adult thief? I'd have to really punish her or household discipline would be endangered."
"So, she lied."
"Slaves lie, son. All of them. Never forget it."
Slaves lie. All of them. Was Sam lying now? Was Sam trying to seduce me, control me? Was this all a ploy to win my heart so that I would go easier on her? I sighed. Gods, the shit going through my head sounded exactly like my father. The curse of an active mind is constant doubt, I mused. I shook it away. I didn't have time for this. And besides, if Sam was trying to seduce me, that sounded like the most fun I had in years. We should all be so lucky as to be seduced by a raven-haired twenty-something sex kitten.
I emerged from the shower and quickly prepared myself for the day to come. Sam was ready, of course. She had showered before I awoke and getting dressed was almost trivial. Her gloves and boots had returned. Her collar had never left. "Ready, Ty?"
I nodded, smiled and we were out the door. Over pancakes and coffee, I finally raised a question that had been on my mind for a while. "Samantha, do you like going everywhere naked?"
