A New Beginning

Chapter 1 -- A Bad Day Turns Hopeful

Carol was not having a good day. On top of her other troubles she had just been told that she was being laid off from her executive position at the bank. A tear slid slowly down her cheek as she sat in the coffee shop looking out the window and pondering what she would now do with her life. Just the week before her boyfriend of four years had moved out, leaving her to pay all the rent on a luxury apartment that had been too expensive even when there were two of them sharing the cost.

At forty nine years old Carol felt very alone. Never married, no close relatives, and few really good friends, she had been counting on her job and relationship with Steve to make a good life for herself. True, their sex life had been kind of dull for her taste, but that was not the most important thing. She had her fantasies and took care of herself, often stimulated by stories she read on the internet.

Steve had said they didn't need to get married; that marriage would only complicate his relationship with his children from an earlier chapter in his life. Now suddenly he had been offered a great job in a foreign country, and he was gone. She couldn't help but wonder if one of the reasons was that she was earning more money than he was, and he had to prove himself.

"I would ask you to go with me," he had said. "But you have such a good job here, and I want to be free to have new experiences."

She had pleaded with him. "But what about all our plans and commitment to each other?"

His response had been cold. "Things change. You have to go with the flow."

So much for four years of her life. At first she had coped pretty well. She had a good, challenging job, and she still looked good enough to earn a second look from most men, even the younger ones. At five feet nine inches and slender with long, dancer's legs, Carol made a striking figure. She had dark brown piercing eyes and shoulder length natural hair, that when the sun shone on it was the color of wheat. Her fingernails were long and well manicured, emphasizing her femininity.

But what usually caught the attention of her male co-workers and customers were her full breasts, which stood out high and firm on her chest. At her age she needed the help of a good bra, but with that and careful attention to her posture she held her own with the sexy young things that worked as tellers in the bank. Usually she dressed conservatively, but some days she wore tight tops and short skirts just to get the affirming looks.

But all that was far from her mind as she sipped her coffee and felt sorry for herself. Yesterday she had been an assistant vice president for mortgages in a branch office of a large bank, where she had been busy meeting her quota of new loans, beating out the competition by being very lenient in qualifying applicants. Today she was out of a job with only a check for two week's pay in her purse. The bank had frozen all mortgage activity and laid off twenty percent of the staff. She knew it was the same all over town; no one was going to be hiring mortgage officers.

If only she had saved some money instead of running up her credit card debt on frivolous purchases and activities with Steve--that bastard. How could he just leave after all she had given him? Now the best she could hope for was that her landlord and the credit card companies would give her time to try to find a new job. In the meantime she guessed she could collect enough unemployment money to buy food.

As she sat looking out the window with unfocused eyes she was suddenly aware that a man was standing on the other side staring at her through the glass. When he saw that she noticed him he made a motion with his hand to change her frown to a smile. She shook her head no and turned away. A moment later the warmth of his gesture registered with her, and she looked back, only to find that he was gone.

With a sigh she left a couple of dollars and pushed away from the table, thinking that maybe a walk in the park would raise her spirits. It was a crisp sunny day in the autumn, and she joined the many people who were walking down the paths lined with trees and bushes that reflected the bright yellow light. She took deep breaths and tried to smile, but the people faded into the background and the yellow light darkened into a grey gloom.

Suddenly she was very tired. She sat down on a bench and tears began to flow uncontrollably as she buried her face in her hands. Unnoticed by her the man who had watched her through the coffee shop window seated himself on a bench on the other side of the path.

Mark was a wealthy but unhappy man. His life had been shaped by the expectations of his prominent family, who groomed him to carry on their traditions and maintain their social position. They chose his schools, his friends, and even the wives in his two unsuccessful marriages. Finally at age 55 he had rebelled and moved across the country to a city where he was unknown and could begin a new life. Although money was no problem and he did not have to work, he began buying and selling art and in six months had made a small fortune on his own.

Still he was unsatisfied. The people he had met in the high priced art world were like the people he had known all his life—stuffy and pretentious, always concerned about appearances. Sometimes at cocktail parties he fantasized about dragging one of the buxom bitches into a closet and stripping off her fancy clothes. Then he would tie her hands behind her back and drag her by her hair through the room, showing off her tits to the horrified art patrons.

To even think about such a thing was completely contrary to the way he had behaved all his life. Impulses like that were supposed to be controlled and suppressed. Women were to be treated as equals and any use of force was a sign of perversion. Yet he longed to explore his dark side and find out how sexually satisfying it would be to dominate a woman completely and make her do his bidding.

Attracting women was easy. Mark was six feet two inches tall and in good physical shape. His curly brown hair was only just beginning to grey at the temples. A ready smile both on his lips and in his crystal blue eyes made people feel good in his presence. His looks combined with his wealth and eligibility made him a desirable companion for many women, both single and married.

But after two disastrous marriages, he was wary of traditional courtship, where before you knew it you were emotionally entangled and had to be so considerate of the woman's feelings. He made up his mind that in his new life any relationship with a woman was going to be on his terms from the get go. His problem was he had not yet come across a woman who attracted him and whom he could also dominate.

All these thoughts were bouncing around in his head as he strolled through the park on that beautiful day. He was impeccably dressed as usual, wearing soft brown slacks and a tweed sport coat with a maroon silk handkerchief perfectly arranged in the pocket. He was feeling good and enjoying his freedom.

The fact that on an impulse he had tried to cheer up the woman in the coffee shop was indicative of his mood. He was surprised and pleased to see her again in the park. She was crying and looked even more miserable than she had before. He sat down on a bench where he could observe her.

In spite of the conservative business suit she was wearing he could tell she had a great figure. Maybe he could revive this wounded bird and be rewarded. When she momentarily stopped crying, he crossed the walk and sat down beside her.

"It can't be all that bad," he said softly.

She raised her tear-stained face to look into the eyes of the man she recognized was the one from the coffee shop. "Yes it can," she sobbed.

He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed her tears. Surprised at his bold touch she pulled back, but his smile reassured her. His whole demeanor was one of wealth and position, not at all threatening.

"Thank you," she said and returned his smile as best she could.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said. "I promise that you'll feel better after talking about it. Maybe I can help."

Carol was drawn to the handsome stranger who seemed to care so much about her, and she needed to talk with someone. "My boyfriend and roommate left me last week and today I was laid off from my job. I have lots of debts and no savings. In this economy there is no way I am going to find another job."

The tears started again. He handed her the handkerchief and put his arm around her shoulders. "Now, now, if it's only a money problem, that's not so bad."

"Easy for you to say," she sobbed. "Besides, that's not all."

Mark looked at her. Through her wet eyes he saw her vulnerability. Maybe this was the opportunity he had been fantasizing about. He decided to test her, and himself.

"Put your head on my shoulder and tell me all of it," he said, his voice taking on a different tone.

She picked up immediately on the change in his demeanor, and to her surprise she felt a strange rush go through her system. There was something about him that made her feel safe and that he really cared. Of its own accord her head dropped to his shoulder. Before she could process what was happening he spoke again.

"Talk. Tell me about this boyfriend and why he left you."

"I think he wanted a change. He got offered a job in another country."

"Your relationship had become routine, right? No excitement. Not much sex."

Carol sighed. "You're right. But it hurts. I feel so alone and unwanted."

He moved his cheek so he could feel her hair. It was soft and clean and smelled of fruit.

"You have beautiful hair," he said.

The comment surprised her, but felt sincere. She was proud of her hair. "Thank you," she said.

"It is a blessing for you that he has left," Mark said. "You needed a new beginning."

She gave a little laugh, "But where to begin?"

He squeezed her shoulder. "You can begin by trusting me. Will you come with me and let me show you some things?"

"What things?"

"Don't ask. Either come or not."

Chapter 2 -- Carol Takes a Chance

She wanted to say 'yes', but her natural caution held her back. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to look directly at him. His eyes locked on hers and projected the sense of power that he was feeling. If she acquiesced at this critical point he knew he would have her. He had made it clear that her coming with him was on his terms. From her actions so far he suspected that she was a closet submissive. The question was whether she would be brave enough to trust her instincts and let go.

They stared at each other for what seemed like a full minute. Carol's stomach was doing flips. Finally she said, "Okay."

After making her decision she felt physically drained and sat silently. He reached for her hand and stroked it gently. She inhaled deeply as warmth radiated through her whole body and she began to relax. They sat quietly for at least five minutes before either spoke again.

"My name is Mark," he said, gripping her hand tightly. "What is yours my weepy sparrow?"

She smiled up at him, now comfortable with her decision. "Nice to meet you Mark. My name is Carol."

"Let's go for a walk Carol," he said rising from the bench.

He held her hand firmly and led her down the path. As they strolled through the park Carol thought again that she should not be wandering away with this stranger, but his hard grip on her hand and his forceful attitude made those thoughts disappear as soon as they crossed her mind. She knew not to ask where he was taking her and just let him lead.

At one point he pulled out a cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. In a few seconds she heard him giving commands in a language she did not understand. Then he closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"What language was that?" she asked.

He laughed. "That was my bad French. I am a dealer in high priced art and my snooty customers like to talk French."

She was impressed and squeezed his hand. They continued walking for another ten minutes, talking idly about the plants and flowers. When they looked at each other, however, there was a tension and sense of anticipation.

Mark turned them down a side path. The exit to the park was in front of them, and at the curb stood a black stretch limousine with the chauffeur ready to open the door. Mark nodded and the door was opened. Carol hesitated, feeling a moment of panic. The appearance of the limousine seemed too planned.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and whispered in her ear, "Trust me; you will come to no harm."

She took a deep breath and got into the car. As she slid across the seat her straight suit skirt rose above her knees, revealing the tops of her stockings and her upper thighs. As she moved to tug at the skirt Mark sat on the seat opposite her and took her hand.

He kissed her palm. "Leave it alone," he said.

Things were moving much too fast for Carol. Getting into the limo with a strange man was daring enough; now she was being told to leave her skirt raised almost to her panties so this man could look at her legs. But before she could protest and cover herself he spoke again.

"You can get out of the car anytime you want. The doors are not locked, and we are not moving. However if you stay, you must do as I say."

His voice and the intense look in his eyes mesmerized her. It was like she was frozen in position by some force she couldn't understand. She looked down at her own legs and felt proud of the smooth skin and curves and the fact that he wanted to look at them. As long as she could leave when she wanted, what was the harm?

Mark's eyes alternated between her legs and her face. He still held her hand and gently rubbed his thumb over her fingers. Her body began to relax.

"Listen to me carefully, Carol," he said. "I like you. I can take away all your money problems and help you start on a new path. There are things in you that need to be brought out so you can live fully, and I know how to do that. But you have to trust me."

"I want to trust you. You seem to care about me."

"Yes, I do care about you. Give me your trust and new doors will be opened. Your distress over your job and your boyfriend will be washed away."

She smiled. "I guess I don't have much to lose."

Chapter 3 -- The Beginning of their Relationship

"Good. Now I will take you to my favorite restaurant, where we will have a good meal and talk about your future."

He turned and slid open the inside window so he could speak to the driver. "Take us to The Cliff House," he said.

Carol was still self conscious about her skirt and squirmed a little when Mark turned back to look at her.

"Don't worry about your skirt," he said. "You have fantastic legs. I like looking at them. Stretch them out some more."

She blushed but did as he said, turning slightly in the seat to try to make room to extend her long legs.

"Put your feet up on the seat beside me," he said. "That way you will have plenty of room."

As she shifted her legs he dropped her hand and reached into a compartment behind the driver. "I am going to pour us some champagne to celebrate our meeting each other. It's about half an hour to the restaurant."

The seat Mark sat on was more like a bench, so there was plenty of room for her to place her feet in her high heels. But in the process her skirt rode up another two inches. When she unconsciously put her hands on her skirt to straighten it, he shook his head.

"No. Take this glass of champagne and keep your hands away from your skirt."

"Okay," she said.

Holding the glass under nose she inhaled the fragrant mist rising from the bubbles. Champagne was her favorite drink, and this was obviously very good champagne. The first sip warmed her and seemed to send a signal to all parts of her body to relax. A second and third sip quickly followed, and soon the glass was empty.

"I see you like the finer things of life," laughed Mark as he refilled her glass.

"It is delicious," she purred.

"The first of many delicious new things for you," he said. "Now let me take away some more of that tension."

He put his glass into a convenient holder and reached for one of her feet. With his left hand he grasped her slender ankle and held it while he slipped off her shoe. Then he repeated the process with her other foot. His fingers caressed her soles through her stockings, making her suck in her breath with pleasure.

"Oh my..." she sighed.

The limo glided smoothly and silently in and out of traffic and up onto the freeway. She looked out the window, wondering where The Cliff House was. It was a name she had never heard of.

Without warning Mark lifted one of her feet and put it in his lap. Using both hands he began massaging her in a way that sent tingles up her leg, all the way up to where her pussy was beginning to oz into her panties. Under her heal she could feel the hard ridge of his excitement.

"Oh that feels good," she exclaimed.

"It feels good to me too. Now move your other foot to open your legs more."

Carol was well aware that if she did that her panty-covered pussy would be exposed, and that in the state she was in he would smell her arousal. She hesitated.

His voice was firm. "Remember you agreed to obey me if you stayed in the car. Now do as I say or I will have the driver pull over at the next exit and let you out."

Meekly she slid her leg sideways on the bench. At the same time he took the foot that was in his lap and moved it to the seat on his other side. Now she was facing him with her legs straddling his lap and her skirt up to her panties. It was a straight shot up the insides of her thighs to her wet pussy.

"Can I have some more champagne?" she whimpered.

He laughed. "Yes, give me your glass."

She sat very still while he filled her glass, hoping that her excitement would not be too obvious, in spite of the fact that she felt herself getting wetter every second.

"Before I give you your third glass of champagne I am going to punish you for your failure to respond immediately to my order to open your legs. You are to open the three top buttons on your blouse."

This time she did not hesitate. She wanted to please him and would strip right there in the car if that's what he ordered. Something had snapped in her and released her from her inhibitions. As the buttons popped open she took a deep breath and pushed her breasts forward for his inspection. The fabric parted and revealed the fleshy upper contours of her tits. Her chest heaved as she pulled her shoulders back.

"Very good," he said as he sipped his champagne with one hand and rubbed the inside of one of her legs with the other. "You are learning. How do you feel?"

"I feel like I never have before."

"How do you mean? Tell me everything that comes to you. Don't hold back."

"I feel sexy and desirable. I am excited by your touch and your looking at me. I know I am vulnerable, but I am not scared. It is a relief to put myself in your hands and forget my problems. I feel good obeying you. Oh god... I'm so hot... please touch me.."

Mark was very pleased with himself. He had attracted and captured this lovely wounded sparrow, and had broken through her first level of resistance. It was clear that she was ready to give herself to him sexually. However he wanted a lot more from her than just a vanilla sexual encounter. Time would tell how far he could push her and whether she would submit to all his sexual desires. He resolved to take it slow.

"Not yet, my dear. We are almost to the restaurant. There are things we have to discuss."

For the next few minutes neither of them spoke. Mark continued rubbing her feet and occasionally tracing a finger up her leg, making her squirm and take deep breaths. It seemed like her breasts were going to burst out of the confinement of her bra.