MASTERED: (The Novel) (15 page)

Missy responded to the provocative
words with outright candor. Hands at his cock and eyes level with his balls,
she spoke; her voice barely above a whisper, “I cannot express my gratitude sir
- both for you
and
for
any attention you feel I warrant.” Taking his silence as tacit consent, she
continued, “I am privileged to offer you not only my bottom, but all that I am.”

For emphasis, she leaned forward
onto bruised knees and lovingly nuzzled the tip of his cock. She ardently meant
every word! If not for his sixth sense, she might never have been granted the
opportunity to freely express who - and
what
-
she really was. It would take a herculean strength that she did not
possess to turn back now.

He was to Missy what a life jacket
was to a woman drowning!

Chapter 47

At long last, she was snuggled in
the same bed as this rare and distinctive man. Missy discovered that her
whirling mind and ravaged body were far too over-stimulated to succumb to
sleep.

The soothing rhythm of James's
breathing as he slept soundly beside her was like music to her ears. She
reveled in the realization that for the first time in her life, she felt
complete. Her mind, body, spirit, and yes - her very soul, were harmoniously in
sync. She luxuriated in the unaccustomed absence of anxiety and the nonexistence
of fear.

Feeling soft, sensual, and
submissive, she fingered the rigid collar so recently wrapped about her throat.
The key that fit the small silver padlock was relegated to the depths of his
desk's top drawer. Intrinsically, she understood the significance of the
gesture.

She
belonged with him and
to
him.
She was the perfect yin to his Yang
and follow to his Lead. Most significantly, she was the perfect woman to his
Man. She relived the collaring 'ceremony' for what
had
to be the umpteenth time.

First, James transformed the sofa in
his office into a comfortably appointed queen-sized bed. Next, he sat on its
edge, having her
'
kneel
up' from her customary position at
his feet. He removed the silver chain from around her throat. She felt nervous
and naked without it. Missy wondered if he was displeased with her.

He produced a flat, square box, seemingly
out of thin air. Opening it, James allowed her a glimpse of its contents. A
black leather collar sat atop a cloud of shredded silver tissue paper. Polished
to a deep, lustrous sheen, it was lined with luxurious sheepskin. Three sturdy,
silver O-rings were strategically placed. The largest was perfectly centered
with the two smaller flanking it on either side.

The rings were secured to the thick
collar with what appeared to be three small, perfectly-cut diamonds. Each
demanded the eye of the beholder; glittering haughtily against their backdrop
of blackest leather.

Placed within the circle created by
the collar was the bloom from a single red rose. Before sliding it behind her
ear, he gallantly attempted to untangle her sweat and sofa-matted hair. It was
a wasted effort.

Missy recounted his every word,
verbatim: “This collar signifies that you belong to me unequivocally, little one.
If you accept it, it will represent an immutable decision on
both
our parts. Its meaning is deep
and steeped in tradition. You must recognize the gravity of this moment, and
base your decision on that understanding.”

He’d continued: “The choice that you
make here and now is absolute. You will be my love and my whore, at my whim and
for my pleasure. You will be adored, appreciated, and cherished, as shall your
son. While you may be allowed input, all final decisions will be my
responsibility. You are already well aware that I take each and every one of
those decisions extremely seriously.”

“Be secure in the knowledge that I
have your best interests at heart. Even if occasionally you find the methods
employed to be somewhat perplexing.”

“What say you, pet? Please, speak
freely...”

Chapter 48

Parting her lips to respond, Missy
faltered. She understood there would be no turning back once the words were spoken.
Of its own volition, her mind flashed back to that mind-numbing day when James
had dropped in unexpectedly - at six o'clock in the morning, no less!

Bearing hot, honeyed tea to
alleviate her sudden malady, he nonetheless exerted his dominance over her as
naturally as a male dog marked its territory. She, by comparison, had been
dazed and confused; not only as a result of the flu.

She confessed to herself an
insatiable hunger to be dominated and adored by him. She would never forget the
panic that gripped her when he resigned her employment. He’d done so as coolly
and calmly as one might order a ham sandwich. In fact, he chuckled as he
conveyed the gist of his conversation with her boss.

At the same time, he tucked her
tenderly into bed.

He fluffed the sweat-stained pillows
and pulled the comforter to her chin, kissing her forehead as if she were a
convalescing child. He recounted that Teresa
insisted
Missy not concern
herself with the 'silly'
two
week notification period.
Honestly, if Teresa bent backwards even one
millimeter further to kiss his
arse
, she would
fracture vertebrate!

Before she could respond to James
with absolute conviction, the most important detail needed to be factored in.
Christopher. Missy may be submissive, but she was far from lacking in
intelligence. She appreciated that there were many facets to an enduring
relationship.
Other than the
implausible collision of souls and a mutual deviance, that is.

If she were to become as reliant
upon James as he was contending, it was imperative he be there for the long
haul. Yes, it was heart-warming that he drove across town to tend to her when
she was under the weather. Still, the truest indication of his long-term
intentions came
after
she fell
into a deep, peaceful slumber.

James wrote a check for twenty-five
thousand dollars, handing it over to a speechless Christopher. It was even made
payable in Christopher's name
.
It was to go towards college tuition and helping his mother. He promised
Christopher that if he worked hard in college and was good to his mom - another
check in the same amount would be forthcoming in the near future. That was it.
No strings attached.

As
her son always said -
ya
can't fight city hall!

With trust and unconcealed love
radiant in her eyes, Missy was now prepared to reply to James's life-altering
query. She spoke from a depth within herself which until now had remained
unexplored. “I am honored to accept your collar and to call you Master. It will
be worn with the utmost of pride and the greatest of pleasure. Willingly, I
place my life, and my love, in your most capable hands.”

Her last conscious memory before
falling into a dreamless sleep was the sound of the collar's deadbolt as it slid
irrevocably into place.

Submissive...

Chapter 49

James woke up hard, horny, and
thinking of Angeline. His cock throbbed from an acute state of rigidity. It
would not recede and refused to be marginalized. Evidently, Missy rekindled a
deep desire within him. A desire he thought long extinguished and buried
alongside his wife.

He and Angeline were married for
eight years prior to her untimely death. It was hardly surprising that he awoke
with her in his head. In fact, there was hardly a day he didn't. However, this
time there was a distinct difference.

This
time, Angeline wasn't restricting
herself to his 'big' head!

Leaning over, he inhaled the
wholesome scent of the freshly-fucked-and-collared girl sleeping beside him.
James knew himself to be the most fortunate of men. Destiny was kind enough to
smile upon him not once, but twice in the same lifetime.

Lightly, he ran his hand over the
swell of Missy's belly and between her thighs. She moaned softly but did not
awaken. He was pleased to see that even in an unconscious state, her legs
opened instinctively at his touch.

His hand came away slippery with the
excretion from a still-creamy pussy. Smiling inwardly, he thought; “
What better lubricant for the job at hand?”
While
usually appreciative of a clever play on words, James was impatient to get down
to business. At this particular moment, he was far more interested in cock-play
than word-play!

Palming his inflamed manhood, he
smeared Missy's juices along the full length. Halfheartedly, James began to jerk
off. He struggled to focus on the enchanting sights and sounds of that very
afternoon – and failed. The reaming of Missy's delectable virgin asshole was an
experience of 'orgasmic' proportion. One that ought to be cherished, relished,
and re-lived time and time again. And yet, both his mind
and
body declined to comply.

Angeline's visage continued
maddeningly to interject itself, refusing to be supplanted. Rudely, it
disrupted his singular objective. His determination was literally shriveling
away!

Could she somehow sense that
something was amiss?
Was it possible she intuited that James was about to place her where she long
needed to be; in the past?

With these mystical questions
hanging unanswered, the mental dialogue ended. Without further reservation, he
surrendered himself completely to Angeline. He understood that after too many
years of grief and remorse, this would be her final send-off. First thing in
the morning, James would pack up over a decade's worth of photos and mementos
and place them in storage.

At
long last, the time had come.

And, now, it was his turn!
Lubricating his cock with repeated contributions from Missy's generous pussy,
he relaxed into the pillows. He thought back to the first year of their
relationship, before they were wed.

It had been near-perfect in every
way save one. Angeline suffered from a seemingly incurable distaste for
fellatio. Her enthusiasm for, and proficiency at, the fine art of sucking a man's
cock left much to be desired.

Too much to remain sustainable, in
fact.
In his
world, the world she literally got on her knees and begged to
become a part of; the sucking of cock was simply a mandatory life skill.
As was the swallowing of semen.
Expertise in these
'sensitive' areas garnered far more favor and respect than any Doctorate degree
ever could
. She may not work outside of
the home, but she
would
suck
cock properly - and eagerly - within it!

Enticements were proffered,
dispensed in two forms: Reward, and punishment. Even so, nothing proved to be
incentive enough. No discernible progress was forthcoming. She would still take
only the head of his heavy cock into her mouth. Adding insult to injury, her
scrunched-up face conveyed her true feelings fluently
.
And
deflatingly
.

All that was about to change, and
drastically so.

After playing a spirited round of
golf with the usual suspects, he arrived home with an unexpected guest. His
Honor George T. Weatherly, respected adjudicator and beloved husband, had
whined non-stop throughout the match – and
not
about his pathetic excuse for a golf game.

The problem was quite simple, quite
predictable, and extremely common. After three decades in a
'
vanilla' marriage, Georgie just
wasn't
gettin
' any. He was none too pleased about it,
either.

While still very much in love with
his wife, George proved no match for Stephanie's dominant personality. From the
earliest days of their marriage, his desire to have as much sex as possible was
superseded by Stephanie's desire for the exact opposite. Rarely did George
prevail.

Worse yet, the last few years were
even more unbearable. What little sexual contact there was previously – had
decreased to none at all.

After listening to George moan and
complain for eighteen holes, it occurred to James that there may be a way to
solve both of their problems at once...

Chapter 50

His key turned in the lock and the
door swung open. Angeline was in her proper place, patiently awaiting his
arrival. Kneeling flawlessly, she was simply exquisite.

As expected, she was 'wearing' what
he had selected before hitting the links. It consisted of a leather 'house
'
collar, sheer bubble-gum-pink
panties, nipple clamps, and mile-high heels. Deeming something askew, James
added a sterling silver bell to each clamp.

Stepping back, he proudly pronounced
them to be perfect. Not only did they complement her skin tone, they completed
her outfit seamlessly! The tinkling at her tits from even the tiniest tremor
was music to his ears.