Lost in the Wind Ch. 04

"Come up to my lair little girl. Lets corrupt you some more." He giggled.

"Yes Sir." Cassy looked at him, and tipped her head to one side, peering up at his face.

He did not let go of her wrist, his other hand was on her shoulder propelling her up the stairs in front of him. He pushed her along into his bedroom, "Come here you." He spun her around and kissed her, the force of his mouth pushing her head back. He lifted his head. "Fuck, I like kissing you. I feel like a goddamn vampire. I want to suck the fucking life out of you."

He pushed her down onto her knees. "Don't move." He pulled his clothes off. He sat on the edge of his bed, his hand stroking his tall hard cock. "Come here, your turn to suck the life out of me." Cassy had read about this. She swallowed and ran a nervous tongue across her lips. Carefully moving between his knees she reached her hands up and touched his cock for the first time. It felt amazingly hot and velvet soft. She looked up at him uncertainly and opening her lips, she put her mouth over the rich red head.

"Fuck yes." He tangled his hands in her hair. "Suck it." Cassy struggled to seal her lips around the thick shaft of flesh in her mouth. She could taste the salty fluid that was leaking from the little hole in the tip. He smelled so good, a deep compelling musky scent. Cassy inhaled deeply, feeling a rush of warmth in her body, her cunt clenched and she felt a soft wetness. He pushed her head down and pressed against her throat. Cassy gagged and involuntarily jerked back against his hands.

"Don't fight me." His hands tightened, vice like in her hair. He slowly began to move in and out of her mouth, fucking her face slowly, luxuriously. "Keep sucking. Use your tongue more. Good girl." He would slowly plunge in and each time Cassy would gag around the head of his cock as it forced itself deep into her throat. Before the panic could overwhelm her, he would move back.

Cassy could feel the tension build in his hands, his arms quivering. His cock seemed to swell even bigger in her tired, aching mouth. His voice was hoarse and groaning. "Oh fuck, suck it bitch, I'm gonna come." Cassy whimpered in fear as he gripped her head and plunged deep into her mouth, flooding her mouth with rich, salty come. Cassy strangled and coughed, spraying hot white come out of her mouth. She struggled to swallow, forcing down gulps of spit and come, ignoring her stomach's churning.

"That was really good." His voice was foggy and tired sounding. He lay back on his bed, his eyes drifting shut, already half asleep. "Yea, really good, go on back to your room."

Cassy slowly padded to the basement. She went to the bathroom and washed the tears and sticky come off her face and hands. She ran her tongue around her mouth. She thought to herself that the come had tasted pretty gross but not as bad as salad. She brushed her teeth and drank a glass of water. She crawled into her blankets and lay there thinking.

He had seemed to be in a strange mood. He had been oddly talkative and been cursing a lot more than she was used to hearing. Yet he had not seemed angry. She gave a small mental shrug, wondering again where he had gone.

Cassy woke to the usual clanks of him lifting weights outside her room. She stepped from her room and stood waiting for his normal morning greeting. He looked up and winced, "I wish I could say good morning child but I feel like shit."

"Good morning Sir, are you sick?"

"Nothing that I didn't ask for. I was pretty wasted last night."

"Wasted?"

"Drunk and more than a little stoned. I should know better. I am getting too old for that kind of stupid bullshit. I guess I kind of owe you an apology."

Cassy felt surprised and confused. "What for?"

He began to laugh, a soft angry chuckle. "You are so funny. I come home in the middle of the night drunk off my ass and make you suck my cock and then kick you out of my bedroom and you don't even think I was being a jerk. I can't make up my mind if you are innocent or stupid."

A spark of anger at being called stupid made Cassy stand up straight, her eyes flashed. "Maybe I am stupid, but I don't care. I like being here. I like you. I like sucking your cock." She felt a wave of terror at speaking like this to him. A little sob shook her and she ran back into her room and pulled her blankets over her head.

His voice came from her door. "Child come out here."

She crawled out from the blankets and walked slowly out of her room. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears and then toward the corner she had spent so long kneeling in yesterday. Her shoulders sagged and she walked to the corner and knelt. She felt his hand on her should. "Why are you here?"

"I yelled at you." Her voice shook with silent sobs.

He knelt behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her. "You did not yell. And what you said was not rude. The only thing you did that may be a little bit wrong was you spoke out of turn but I think we can overlook that."

"I was mad at you."

"I was being an ass. I have been acting like an ass for the last two days. I think I am feeling a little nervous about commitment."

"Commitment?"

"Child, you have given yourself to me. And I seem to have taken up that challenge. I am responsible for you. That is commitment. Its a promise to take care of you, to provide for you, to teach you and care for you. Its kind of scary for me. I have not had much luck with commitments in the past. So far they have always blown up in my face. And now I am facing that risk again and I have been acting like an ass."

A soft feeling of happiness was slowly filling up the aching emptiness inside her. 'A promise to take care of her, a promise to care for her.' The words echoed and spun in her heart.

Unable to resist the need to touch him, to wrap her arms around him and hold tight, she turned in his arms. Her arms crept up and twined around his neck. Her voice was muffled against his neck. "I did like it."

He laughed, this time gentle and warm. "So did I, child. So did I. You did pretty good for a first timer. Of course I did not give you many options. If you had not given it to me, I would have taken it."

"Sir, would it be all right for me to ask where you go at night?"

He pulled back his face and looked down at her. "Mostly I am going to late meetings with store managers. Sometimes I go see a friend. Last night I went to a bar I used to go to a long time ago."

He stopped and took a deep breath. "Child, all my life I have been equally sexually interested in both men and women. My bisexuality has always felt like the most natural thing in the world. The bar I went to was a gay bar I used to go to when I was younger. I am not sure why I went, other than I could tell that I was feeling angry at myself for pushing you too hard and I did not want to make things worse. I certainly wasn't looking for sex. So I got drunk, let some old friends talk me into smoking some pot and came home and pushed you anyway."

He stood and pulled her to stand with him. He grimaced as he straightened out his legs. "I have to give you credit. You are already better at that kneeling than I will ever be. Come on little one lets take a shower."

"Yes Sir."

In the bathroom Cassy looked longingly at the toilet. She really needed to pee but she still was too shy to sit down and go with him watching. She squirmed and squeezed her knees together as she brushed her teeth. She drank down the required glass of water with a sense of dread.

"You have to go to bathroom don't you." Cassy blushed and nodded miserably. He laughed gently, "My funny girl, I don't know why you are so shy about that. I will get in the shower, you join me when you are done." He turned on the water and stepped into the water. He left the door of the shower open but the toilet was situated so that he would have to lean out of the shower stall to see her. Cassy quickly sat, grateful the the sound of the shower would disguise the sound of her pee in the bowl.

As she stepped into the warm shower, he grinned and pulled her against him, his body slippery with soap suds. "Come on in the water is fine." He pushed her under the spraying water and then took a handful of shampoo he began to wash her hair. This time it was not the hurried practical scrub he had done when her hands were hurt.

His hands slowly massaged her scalp and neck working the suds in thoroughly. He rinsed her hair and sensually worked the conditioner deep. Cassy sighed and leaned against him, her mind lost in the sensation of his hands on her head.

He took the soap and lathered her, his hands slow and sensual. He handed her a razor, "I can't see well enough to do this without my glasses and they always steam up when I wear them in the shower." He had a silly grin on his face. "You do your armpits and legs and then we will do your golden curlies together."

"Yes Sir." Cassy giggled at the thought of him in the shower with his glasses on. She quickly shaved herself and then looked up at him.

"OK pay attention. I do not want you to shave all your hair off. Your cunt hair is very pretty, a natural blond guarantee." He knelt down and lifted one of her legs up. He ran his finger across the top of her pubic mound carefully using touch as much as his eyes to find the top of her cleft. Cassy shivered at the sensation of his hands. "Shave everything below here. Leave everything above natural."

He stayed down and watched as she leaned over and carefully scraped away the hair. Cassy was a little surprised to see that the lips of her cunt were so pink, almost the same shade as her nipples. His fingers stroked across the new smooth skin and she jumped.

"Do it like this every day. Be sure to get all of it, even the strays down around your little asshole." His fingers still slippery from the soap ran up and down the crack of her ass. Cassy was starting to feel like her legs did not want to hold her up. Over and over she had to fight the urge to sag to the floor of the shower.

The muscles in her belly and thighs shivered and jumped as he slowly stroked across her newly shaved labia. Cassy found herself holding onto his shoulders, her head lolling back against the shower wall. Her breath trembling in her throat.

His voice as teasing. "Where is my sweet little 'yes Sir' I am getting so used to hearing."

Her voice came from far away. "Yes Sir."

"You seem... distracted." His hand continued to stroke her outer lips, petting over and over, never delving between her lips. She found herself wanting more, her hips began to follow the movements of his touch trying to press against him harder.

"Y... yes Sir" A tiny whimper leaked from her lips.

"I am making you crazy aren't I."

"Y... yes Sir."

He laughed softly, a happy delighted sound. He pulled her to press against him, his erection hard and hot against her. Cassy melted against him, the feel of his skin against hers blotting out what little thought she had left. She was not even aware that she was grinding her cunt against his leg. She just knew that she could not get enough of him against her.

He held her close and turned to hold her under the heavy spray of the shower, rinsing her off. "Come out and dry off. We will go upstairs and take care of these crazy feelings."

Cassy moved languidly, her movements erratic and random. She dabbed at herself with a shaky hands. He gently helped her, patting her back dry and then picked her up and carried her up the narrow stair. Cassy snuggled down small in his arms.

Cassy held tightly to his neck as he lay her on his bed. Her eyes were locked on his. He gently unwound her arms and lay down beside her. He continued his gentle stroking between her legs, his fingers light and stroking. He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth. Cassy arched her back and closed her eyes. His fingers softly spread her open and stroked gently. Cassy shuddered with each touch.

She felt like she was floating drifting, her breath coming in gasps. "Please Sir. Oh god please." Her hands pulled at him. He was at her opening, the tip of his cock pushing, spearing into her. She felt the same tearing pain but much less this time. The sweet warm feeling was wonderful. She tipped her hips to meet his entry into her. She gasped, an audible sigh on her lips as he filled her.

His hips began to move, thrusting deep and slow. Cassy could feel herself softening and warming, her body trembling. There was something, something just beyond her reach. Her hips jerked and lunged and she whimpered a panicked sound. He pulled her tight against him and shuddered as he pumped his come into her. She could feel the hot moisture filling her.

He collapsed against her, his breath hot on her neck. She held him close, her lips on his chest. She could feel her cunt sting a little as it continued to contract softly around him.

"Nice way to start a day. I think you have invented a hangover cure child." He was up on his elbows looking down at her with a grin. "Come on lets jump back in the shower and rinse off quick and then lets get started on our day."

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

The basement room was dark except for the light of the candles. Her eyes were perfectly focused on the candle flame of the small tea lights sitting on top of the heavy weights balanced on her palms. She willed herself into an even deeper state of stillness, her breath almost imperceptible. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his skin radiating out against her back. She was so still she could see the flames flicker in time to her heart beat.

She lifted her eyes and took in the image in the mirror. To look in the mirror was to risk failure. The image so compelling, it would catch her breath in her throat, cloud her mind with emotion. She knelt, her back perfectly straight, her hands extended before her in supplication, the glow of the candles reflecting off her naked skin, the alabaster white decorated with the red stripes of his stringent demands.

It was not her image that held the danger, it was his. He knelt close behind her, almost touching, watching, waiting for the inevitable tremor of fatigue, the first hints of failure. The very sight of him could fill her with confusion.

Cassy forced her eyes back to the candle flames. Her mind spun back over the last year. In many ways her life with Nathan Landauer had changed little in substance from the first days of her stay. It was more intense, more demanding, and in all ways more devastating. Their relationship had developed an easy predictable rhythm.

Each knew their role, her Master had trained her well. His directions became unnecessary and her soft automatic acknowledgments of his authority became increasingly nonverbal. She would go days, even weeks without talking. Cassy found the silence a refuge and a comfort. She found she was increasingly quiet in all her ways.

Her arms gave an involuntary quiver, the candle flames danced in response. Once more she asserted her will over her fading strength. She knew she would fail but never once had she surrendered to the fatigue. She embraced it and tried to rise above it.

She willed the room away, almost deliberately she sought out the place in her mind that shielded her from the pain that was growing in her body. The room contracted to the point of light that was the candle flame, a tiny point of light lost in a fog of swirling gray.

His touch pulled her back to the room. She slowly inhaled and forced herself to do it. Pushing the gray away was getting increasingly difficult. The last thing he would demand from her was to stand. She had to force herself to her feet from kneeling with out dropping the weights and the a candles on top of them.

She had been kneeling for probably thirty minutes without moving a muscle. To force her legs to function perfectly after this was a trial almost beyond her. Yet she did it. There was no option for failure. A gentle inhalation and then as she rose up, a corresponding controlled exhalation, the candle flames flickering in the wind from her lips.

Her soft smile of happiness was reflected in the soft light as she presented the weights still balanced in her palms to him, a tribute to her obedience, her devotion, her triumph.

It was one of the nights he had not gone out. On these nighs she had learned to expect these scenarios that he called tests during these evenings. Most often they started with pain, a cane or perhaps a whip, both softening and sharpening her, decorating her pale skin. He seemed to crave this evidence of his ownership of her. To create from her a work of art. Rarely was the pain more than she could bear. And if in his enthusiasm or his mood, he pushed too hard, there was the refuge in her mind when she felt herself losing control.

Then he would pose her with a challenge; a posture too contorted, a weight held balanced too long, testing her ability to endure, to transcend, to endlessly struggle to obey his vision of beauty and grace.

Cassy was not sure when she had started calling him Master in her mind. She did not call him that to his face. When she spoke, if she spoke, she called him Sir. But when she thought of him, and she did think of him often, he had become her Master.

His smile mirrored hers as he took the weights from her hands. As the strain was finally released she allowed herself the cascade of shuddering weakness she had held at bay. He pulled her to lean against his chest. The intimacy of his body against hers a priceless reward.

He pulled her face up and took her mouth in his. Cassy sighed and melted against him. She lived for his kisses, his kisses and the sensation of his skin against hers. She found the nervous excitement of having him enter and fill her with his cock almost too intense.

She had a love hate feeling about fucking him. She loved the feeling of satisfaction and perfect sweetness that having the empty feeling in her filled as he pushed into her. She loved when he would strain against her in raw primitive lust as he came inside her. She hated the feeling of nervous anxiety as she failed to orgasm. She intensely hated when he would pull his spent cock from her, leaving her feeling even more empty than he had found her.

This was her darkest secret from her Master. She was silent in almost everything, and she knew he mistook her nervous whimpers and sighs for sounds of satisfaction. If he had asked, she would have told him the truth, but he never asked. She knew that was probably one of the things that made her hate fucking him most of all, her sense of failure and betrayal.

As he pushed her down onto the floor and spread her legs she arched and pressed herself to him, focusing her mind on giving herself to his pleasure totally, this was one more thing she could do for him. She found fulfillment in her service to him. She deliberately turned her mind away from the pleasure she felt, it was a false promise. If she could reject her own needs, at least she did not fail. She tried to turn her mind away from the lie.

She had managed to reach orgasm a few times in her room, alone in the night. It had been a long struggle of endless frantic rubbing, made more difficult by her belief that he would not approve the pathetic sweaty panic that seemed to accompany her efforts. The small reward left her feeling even more a failure and liar than fucking ever did. It was rare that he left her so on edge that she could not will herself to sleep. Lately she found it easier to seek the gray swirling wind.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

It was toward the end of their second year together when her Master decided that she should not speak at all, deciding to formalize the habit of silence that filled their world. It was as if he had taken control of even her silence.