Secret Submission (23 page)

“And you don’t want others to see you naked?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. He was always putting new naughty thoughts into her head. Turning the tables, she asked, “Do you want others to see me naked?”

But he was ready for her. “This isn’t about me, slave, it’s about you and what you want.” He paused, then repeated the question, a little more insistently, “Do you want others to see you naked?”

Blast him! Now she had to try and think it through. And, of course, that was precisely what he wanted her to do. He could tell her his preference, but then she would agree to shed her clothes in front of others just to please him. He wanted her to shed those clothes because
she
wanted to. While he suspected the exhibitionist inside her, he wanted to give her time to discover it on her own. The bond between them would be stronger because of her own journey of discovery.

“Walk for me again, slave. And this time imagine the woods filled with eyes. Do you want them to see you naked?”

She glanced again at the woods; before, she had been afraid someone might really be there. Now, knowing there was no one, she filled it with imaginary people and took a step along the wall of the house. Still biting her lip, her eyes strayed out to the woods again as she made her circuit, but her hand did not graze the railing and her posture was straighter. Once again she came to her beginning and stopped.

“Now, slave, what are you feeling?”

She grinned and put her head down, a blush creeping up into her cheeks. “Not so nervous, this time.”

“And would you like people to see you naked?”

Her blush deepened. “Yes,” she whispered.

He stepped toward her, pulling her chin up again, gazing with pride into those eyes. “Then I shall be sure that some day you are displayed for others to appreciate.”

Her breath caught—did he mean that? A part of her thrilled at the thought, a part of her recoiled. She felt his kiss on her forehead.

“But just not today, I think. You have done well, my slave. Inside with you now.”

For just a moment she hesitated. He said he would show her his land—and all she had seen was the deck and the backyard. Trying unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment, she turned and went back into the kitchen.

“Wait here,” he instructed. Dropping her leash, he went over to a closet in the corner of the kitchen. Reaching in, he pulled out an old pair of overalls. “
These’ll
do, I think,” he told her, holding them open for her to step into.

“You’re not going to make me walk naked through the woods?” she asked him, not sure if she was more disappointed or relieved.

He laughed. “No. There are way too many brambles and places that might tear that lovely skin of yours. Button up and I’ll get you some shoes.”

Relaxing completely now, she closed the front of the overalls and pulled the attached belt tightly around her waist. The legs were far too long, so she rolled up the ends to just above her ankles. Long-sleeved, it would be warm to walk in, but wearing it was much better than going without.

A few moments later, he returned with an unopened package of socks and another shoebox. “Sir!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t!”

“Of course I did,” he laughed. “And you would have had a new pair of jeans for here as well, but I couldn’t find the style I wanted in your size.” He opened the package of socks. “Apparently ladies’ work socks come only in packages.”

She took a pair out, leaving the other three, and sat on the floor to put them on. Except that her cuffs were in the way. Jingling the keys, he dropped them down to her and she removed both sets of cuffs. He showed her the sneakers and she reached up to take the laced one while he set up the other shoe. Shod, she ran in place and tried them out. “Perfect!” she announced.

“Let’s see if you still say that after I’ve hiked you all over the property.”
 
Taking hold of her chain, he unclasped it from her collar and hung it on a hook beside the door. “Don’t think my slave is going to run off—and it isn’t safe to have you wear it out in the woods.”

His words touched her. That very first night when he had asked her to come home with him, she had looked for signs of a power-hungry male. She had not found them then and hadn’t in the several times she’d looked since. He really cared about her—the power exchange they discussed earlier was obviously a belief he held deeply. Contentedly, she followed him out the door, careful not to let it slam this time.

* * * * *

True to his word, he hiked her all over the property. Most of it was covered with woods, but several sections had obviously been only recently planted. He explained that he had bought the land from an older farmer who wasn’t able to farm as much as he used to. Phillip was buying up the pieces as the man sold them and returning the land to a more natural state, reforesting it as he purchased it.

The afternoon was waning by the time they returned to the cottage. Hot and sweaty, she couldn’t wait to get back inside and shed the heavy overalls. “I need a shower!” she proclaimed.

“Yes, slave, that you do,” chuckled Phillip. He caught a whiff of his own sweat and grinned. “Apparently, so do I. Come, slave.”

He stripped off his shirt and dropped it over the railing. The sun beat down upon the back deck and the sweat glistened on his chest, his rippling muscles shining in the light. For several moments, Sarah simply stood and looked her fill—his handsomeness took her breath away. His dark hair was damp and clung to his neck, coiling up in little curls that plastered against his skin. When he turned and smiled at her appreciative stare, his dimples made her heart skip a beat. How was it possible that this gorgeous creature could be hers?

Crossing the deck in two cat-like strides, he reached for her, his eyes never leaving hers. Almost in a trance, she felt his fingers unbuttoning the overalls as she gazed at him, her heart in her throat as she realized their possession was mutual. She submitted to him and he wanted her submission. There could not be one without the other. Two sides of one coin. He belonged to her as much as she belonged to him.

His hands pushed the coveralls from her shoulders and she helped him take them off the rest of the way, her newfound understanding making her giddy. Tottering, she giggled as she tipped sideways, her foot snagged in the heavy fabric and he caught her with an arm around the waist. Scooping her up, he kissed her soundly in the sunlight.

She kissed him back, her arms going around his neck and embracing him. This close to him, she could smell his sweat mixed with her own odor of perspiration and arousal. Their pungency threatened to be overwhelming in the hot sun. She broke from the kiss, wrinkling her nose.

“I think Master needs a shower even more than I do!”

He laughed and stepped to the door. “Open the door, slave. My hands seem to be filled with a saucy slave who needs a washing.”

Laughing together, she managed to get the door unlatched and with a little trial and error, he carried her into the house. So much for Hollywood ‘over the threshold’ scenes. Apparently they didn’t have screen doors that opened outward!

Once in the bathroom, he deposited her next to the shower, reached in to turn on the water, then gestured for her to enter first. It was a large space with no tub; its three tile walls and clear glass entrance was certainly big enough for two people. She stepped into the water and he followed her, closing the shower door behind him.

Steam began to rise as he took the soap in his hand, rubbing it to make a handful of lather. “Turn around,” he told her and she faced the cascading water. Slowly, his hands scrubbed her back, one hand holding the soap, the other slippery with lather. Sarah put her hands on the tile wall before her to steady her suddenly rubbery knees.

He let his hands drift lazily over her back and bottom—was there anything finer than a well-shaped ass? He lingered there a moment before stepping closer and bringing his hands around her sides and up to her neck. She still wore his collar and the leather had turned dark with the moisture. It would have to come off to dry later, but for now, the sight of the dark mark of ownership against her white skin made him hard and he knew he would take her here.

With more purpose, Phillip’s hands now lathered her breasts and she leaned back against him. Not since she was a baby had anyone washed her; his hands sliding along her body aroused her in a way she never thought possible. When he dipped to wash between her legs, she spread them wide, giving him all the access he wanted.

And then he was kneeling behind her, soaping her legs, lifting each one in turn to wash her feet. There was something humbling about his actions that touched her. She was the slave, yet he washed her as if he were the servant. Standing again, he turned her to face him and raised each of her arms, letting the soap cover each one.

Gently moving her back to stand completely under the running water, he watched as the water flowed over her curves. She tilted her head back, getting her hair wet and feeling the warmth spread over her face. He held her in his arms, and she relaxed into them, letting the water carry her away.

His cock pushed against her and she stood, taking the soap from him. Silently, she moved from under the waterfall and circled around behind him. He turned to face her as she now imitated his movements of before; working up a lather on her hands, she started on his chest, running her fingers through the fine hair, over his shoulders, down each arm, around to his back. He was tall and they both chuckled as he had to stoop down so she could reach the back of his neck.

Skipping over his midsection, she soaped each leg, kneeling in the water to do so. She wanted to return the honor to him; carefully she washed each foot. Only then did she turn her attention to the part of his anatomy that stared her in the face.

Getting plenty of lather on her hands, she set the soap down and cupped his balls. Rubbing the lather all over them, she trailed her fingers between his legs and up the crack to his ass. He helped her by spreading his legs and giving her permission. She accepted the invitation and pushed her soapy fingers deep into the crevice, cleaning him. The other hand now soaped his cock, already standing stiff and erect. Over and over she rubbed the soap, admiring the veins pulsing life to the glistening head. Finished, she stood and nodded for him to rinse.

Obediently, he stepped back and let the water cascade over his body. Smoothing the hair from his eyes, he pulled her under the waterfall with him. Far from dowsing his desire, the heat of the water fueled his need. Their clean bodies entwined and he kissed her, the water running over his face to splash against their kiss. With a sudden movement, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. So ready was she, that he entered her in one swift motion, burying himself deeply in the warmth of her smooth pussy.

Turning, he leaned her back against the tile wall and rode her, his desire at its peak. Over and over he thrust into her, the water spilling down into the valley made by their joining. The shower walls amplified her passion as his force made her moan and explode. Her head fell back against the tiles as wave after wave of passion careened through her fevered body.

Sarah’s pussy contracted around him as he held her in his arms, urging him, driving him; he couldn’t hold back. His groans echoed hers, loud in the glass and tile shower and his seed shot up inside her. Together their bodies moved as one as their orgasms peaked—together their bodies slowed as the passion waned.

Phillip and Sarah rested, panting, their gazes searching deep into one another’s souls. It seemed all the secrets of the universe were contained within their spirits. He kissed her again; if he could keep this moment forever, he would. She wrapped her arms around his neck gently receiving his kiss.

The water chose that particular moment, however, to go chill. With a cry, he jumped back as the cold water hit his back and he put her down quickly. Reaching to turn the water off, they both started laughing.

“Well, apparently the hot water tank here has just the right amount of hot water in it, Master,” she giggled.

“Apparently,” his face twisted in a wry grin. He opened the doors and they both grabbed for their towels, goose bumps
pimpling
their skin. She fingered her hair. “Guess I’ll have to wait to wash this,” she said.

“Are you telling me I’ll have to shower you again later, slave?” he teased her.

She put on a mock innocent expression. “Only if my master wants a clean slave!”

He laughed. “It will take some time before that tank gets hot again.” He padded out to the bedroom and she followed him, both of them clad in their towels. He looked back and saw the dark line of her collar. “Come here, slave.” She complied without hesitation. Picking up the key from his dresser top, he unlocked the collar around her neck. “Put this in the sun so it can dry.”

The late afternoon sun still shone through the kitchen window, so she took it out there and set it on the sill to dry. Their dirty clothes still lay on the deck outside—all except his pants, which he had removed in the bathroom. Clad in her towel, she went out to retrieve them. When she turned around, he stood naked in the doorway, watching her. He didn’t need to tell her what he wanted. Holding the clothes she had just picked up in one hand, she undid the towel, letting it fall. She raised her bundle over her head and pirouetted, showing off her nudity to the world.

It wasn’t easy, but she wanted to do it. She wanted to show him she was willing to expand her horizons—as long as it was safe to do so, anyway. Having traipsed all over the property, she understood just how alone the two of them were. If the deer wanted to see her naked, that was fine with her.