Power Outage Ch. 01

During her gradual withdrawal from George, she'd read romance novels voraciously, particularly fascinated by those where the heroine was tamed by the hero and at times secretly wished that George would be more assertive. But another part of her was ashamed and scared of those thoughts so, in the end, she resisted any advances he made in that area.

Bu that world was ending. How would his new regime be as the reality? Wasn't he asking for something more? A lot more. It was perverse...well maybe not perverse, but certainly kinky. And why does he think I'd want to do that? He doesn't. He gave me a choice. Yeah, some choice!

How did I get into this mess? You know exactly how. How do I get out of it? I know, I know. But what exactly does he mean by what he wants? When and where he wants? What if I say, "Yes," and don't like it? Maybe even worse, what if I do? What does that make me? I've got to talk to him, damn it! Get some answers. It's Thursday night already.

George was lying on the bed in the guest room reading and heard someone at the door. Looking up from his copy of Newsweek, he was surprised to see Lyn.

"Decided already, have we?" he asked.

"No," she replied, trying to remain calm and his smug query certainly didn't help.

"Then what is it?"

"I need to talk to you."

"You do?"

"Not here though," she said in a near whisper. "In our, or umm, my...in the bedroom anyway."

"Why? What do we need to talk about?"

"We can have more privacy there and I need to know more about what happens if..." she faltered.

"If you agree to my terms?"

"Yes."

"I thought I was clear on that," he snapped.

"You were," she agreed, trying to avoid an argument although unwittingly putting the blame on herself. "But I need to understand better. Can't you give me that much?"

Inwardly, George grinned. There might be some light at the end of the tunnel, but it was far better not to reveal his cards and enjoy watching her squirm.

"Alright," he said feigning exasperation, "if it will help you decide."

"Thank you," she said and stepping next to him, took his hand in hers, and in that moment, they both felt the need to make things work, but dared not express the thought.

Silently, they entered the master bedroom, but she did not release his hand upon closing the door. She led him to sit in the overstuffed chair on the far side of the bed, where she took a seat opposite him.

Mindful to remain in control, he asked, "So what do you need to know?"

"I don't really know where to begin. My mind has been spinning for days and I keep wondering what you meant that I would have to do whatever you want, wherever you want."

He was silent, forcing her to fill the void.

"Well, what I mean is," she rambled, "that could mean a lot of things and 'wherever' could mean something like... like sex in public. And, well, we could get arrested for that! And whatever could mean, you know...group sex. And...and...and I just couldn't do that."

Seeing her agitation at his implications, George couldn't control his laughter. She really might go though with it!

"You really have been thinking, haven't you?" he asked.

"Of course. Nearly twenty years of marriage was worth that much!"

"You can rest assured that I did not mean either of those..."

"Thank god!" she interrupted.

"That may be a little premature, don't you think? Don't get any notions that this would be easy. On the contrary, it WILL be an ordeal," he countered and paused as he saw her swallow hard. "I sure as hell don't want any public lewdness charges on my record either and I plan to respect the sanctity of marriage. You may not believe it, but I do still love you. That's why I found your behavior so infuriating."

He raised his hand to stop her as she rose in an effort to embrace him.

"Sit back down!" he said sternly. "None of that until you've made your decision and I don't want it until tomorrow when you've had a chance to sleep on it because believe me, if you agree, it won't be painless. As a matter of fact I can guarantee you that some of it will hurt. However, I also hope to give you pleasure like you've never had before as well."

"So what will I have to do?"

"I've told you as much as I am willing to divulge. You have to decide if you trust me. And that, you'll have to let your heart answer."

She stared at him, the inner conflict evident on her face.

As George stood, he said, "I'll get going. I can see that you still have a lot to think about."

He paused while reaching for the doorknob as she said, "But you still love me?"

"Yes. I said that, didn't I? The question is whether I can live with you."

Lyn watched the door close behind him and wondered if that would be emblematic of their relationship. As she readied herself for bed she revisited their conversation. Although some concerns had been addressed, she still felt woefully unprepared to make a decision. He'd made it clear that if she accepted his terms, what followed would not be easy. It would hurt was his promise, and, the old adage of 'no pain, no gain' provided slim comfort. But he said he loved her, so how much pain could he inflict? He couldn't live with her under the status quo, but could she live with him under new rules?

The arguments continued to wrestle as she slid into bed and it seemed no resolution was possible, but the exhaustion of the previous sleep deprived nights trumped them all and she fell asleep quickly; more deeply than she thought possible.

Lyn was startled by the brightness of the room when she awoke, fully expecting it to be the middle of the night. She stretched and languished in the comfort of finally feeling rested after so many...Oh shit! What time is it?

It was half past seven and there was a note stuck to the clock:

Lyn,

I figured you could use the sleep, and went to work. I expect your answer before nine. If I don't, I'll assume it's NO and keep my appointment with the lawyer. Call, text, e-mail -- just let me know.

Love,

George

There it was again. Love. It was all so clear now. I can do it. For love. For George. For the kids. Hell, it could even be for me!

Seizing her cell phone from the nightstand as if it might escape. Lyn quickly created a message to George, simply typing "YES" and pressing the send key. You're in it now, girlie, girl. Curiously, the thought brought a smile that quickly faded when there was not an immediate reply. Oh well, what did you expect? Hoping that George had made the usual pot of coffee, Lyn held the phone in a death grip as she went downstairs to get a cup.

In mid pour, her phone chirped, causing Lyn to flinch and liberally splash the countertop.

"Damn you, George!" she muttered without really meaning it, and despite her racing heart, she was actually relieved, immediately setting the pot down carelessly in the middle of the puddle and flipping open her phone.

"Check your e-mail," she read aloud.

Hastily wiping off her cup, she added sugar, left the remaining mess and, carefully avoiding another spill, raced back upstairs to the office, locking the door behind her. A few clicks and couple of minutes later, she opened his message:

Good morning, My slave,

I suppose you find the salutation odd. Get used to it. From now on you are My slave, My slut, My whore. I will not refer to you in those terms in the presence of others because you are also My love. This is for us. Only us.

As My slave, your body belongs to me now. Your mouth, tits, cunt and ass are Mine to do with as pleases your Master. My slave will do as her Master commands. Your duties will only be revealed as they happen and disobedience will be punished promptly and firmly.

Tonight will begin your training. At 8, I expect to find you naked and on your knees in the bedroom awaiting your Master.

Make sure you have nothing planned for tomorrow. It will be a busy day as well.

Do not disappoint me.

Love,

George, your Master

P.S. I have cancelled my appointment with the attorney.

The words did not surprise her, but were effective nonetheless. Sure there was some fear, but there was something else that made her thighs squeeze together. There was only one thing to do. She replied simply, 'Yes, my Master.'

But what to do for the next twelve hours? Lyn read his message several more times for a clue while finishing her coffee. 'Do not disappoint me.' Hmmm... I'd better clean the house! That should keep me busy.

It certainly made for a strange day. At times Lyn was focused only on her tasks, but her thoughts were regularly invaded by musings of what the evening would bring. After a while it was almost a game, composing a vignette lifted from her own romance novel...

Naked and shivering she knelt on the luxurious Oriental rug, but she was not cold, rather she was overcome with fear and excitement as she anticipated the entrance of her Master. Her breasts quivered from her ragged breathing while her legs ached to remain perfectly still, praying that her subservient posture would please him; all the while, another ache took hold -- an emptiness desperately longing for His touch.

She smiled. Pleased with her creation and wondering if it could really be that easy. Probably not, but she was finding the concept of submission more fascinating with each passing hour. It certainly broke tedium of housework, and by three that afternoon, things were in pretty good shape - the house anyway. Lyn was now in need of a serious cleansing and headed upstairs for a shower.

The hot water felt wonderful on her back and for a while she tried to concentrate on relaxing to purge the mixture of dread and anticipation that had consumed her thoughts all day. As the fear washed away, Lyn was slowly mesmerized by the water cascading down her body, pleasantly at first, warmly caressing her breasts, but becoming increasingly frustrating as it ran between her thighs, percolating through the dark brown curls to gently torment her labia. Maddening as it was, Lyn remained transfixed for several minutes until she heard George's voice through the door.

"Your master is home!"

She jumped at the sound and realized she must hurry now, intuitively knowing it would not be good to make him wait. But it wasn't easy; she so desperately wished to linger on the sensations of her slippery soaped hands sliding across her body, the hungry nerves in her skin emerging from their prolonged hibernation.

As she toweled down, she was startled once more as George cracked open the door and softly said, "Take you time, my slave. I'm not going anywhere."

She paused in confusion. She expected impatience. A chill of fear shot through her wet body. He was being so kind - too kind perhaps, given what might await her on the other side of that door.

Even as the towel removed the water from her skin, the chill lingered and was only routed once Lyn fired up the blow dryer, aiming it at her body as much as she did her hair.

Warily, Lyn opened the door and even though she was uncertain of what she'd find, the view seemed ominous. The light streaming out behind her illuminated only the half of the large room in front of her and with the exception of a few candles the other half was dark. After blinking several times, she could discern that George was seated in the wing chair in the opposite corner on the far side of the king sized bed, but the shadows prevented her from knowing his expression.

George smiled, drinking in the silhouette of her naked form, with just enough reflected light to see the bewilderment on her face, with a touch of fear as she strained to see him. It was perfect.

"Turn off the light, my slave," he said in soft authority and watched her fumble for the switch.

Lyn was temporarily blinded until her eyes adjusted to the soft and low flicker of the candles, when it became obvious that George had arranged them so that his corner would still be in the darkest part of the room. As her disorientation faded, Lyn took a step towards him.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Do not walk, my slave. Crawl to your master, slowly."

"Okay," she replied and prepared to do so.

"That is no way to answer me. From now on you will answer with 'Yes, master.'"

The words stuck in her throat momentarily, but upon swallowing hard, she hoarsely replied correctly. It proved to be even more difficult to propel herself, as she became increasingly aware of the implied submissiveness, having lost sight of him as she navigated around the bed; the rasping of the carpet on her knees and palms along with the swaying and occasional colliding of her breasts adding emphasis.

When she finally reached him, she looked up to see him with a slight, yet victorious smile, his gaze fixed upon her. He was seated in a fine cotton plaid of navy and ivory robe, although the fabric was thin, it still contrasted starkly with her nakedness.

"Kneel," he softly directed.

"Yes, master," she replied, rising to sit upon her heels.

"Are you ready to accept your position as my slave?"

"I think so, master."

"Are you frightened?"

She hesitated, but decided that the situation demanded honesty and replied, "Yes, master, a little."

"Very good. I appreciate your candor. I would have been very surprised if you were not. But you're excited by it too, aren't you?"

"Yes, master, I am."

"Otherwise I would expect that you would not be here," he said and breathed deeply, gathering his thoughts to recall the script he had spent the day formulating based on the responses he anticipated. "Are you prepared to take your oath to be my slave?"

Again she paused, unprepared for the question. "Oath? What do you mean...master?"

"I want to hear you accept the terms of your service to me. Not just for my benefit, but yours as well, so that you know precisely what is expected of you and you cannot later say that you did not understand. Despite that others might consider our new association unusual; it will be more honest and trusting than most conventional relationships."

To Lyn it seems odd that he abruptly stood before her and opened his robe to reveal his semi-erect cock just inches before her face and then looked up to meet his eyes that were surprisingly soft and tender. Not at all what she expected, although she could not have truly qualified what that might have been.

Keeping his gaze fixed upon her, he continued, "As you take your oath, with each affirmation you will reply, 'Yes, master I -- fill in the blank' and finish by kissing my cock. Is that understood?"

"Yes...master...I understand," she replied, somewhat befuddled by his demands, but even more by the sudden gravity of the moment. Planting a kiss on the head of his cock, she was surprised at how the warmth of the intimate act spread throughout her body.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Master, I trust you." Another kiss and intuitively, she knew that she really could

"As to honesty, I tell you now that it will sometimes hurt to be my slave. How much will depend on your cooperation, but do you accept that you will feel some pain?"

"Yes, Master, I accept...the pain." Another kiss and her buttocks clenched.

"Does your body be long to me?"

"Yes Master, my body belongs to you." She kissed his cock again, but wetly this time, acknowledging a desire she'd not felt in ages.

"Does your mouth belong to me?"

"Yes, Master, my mouth belongs to you." Sucking slightly on the head, she felt it swelling gloriously between her lips, before completing the kiss.

"Do your tits belong to me?"

"Yes, Master my tits belong to you." As she briefly sucked and kissed once more, her nipples tingling as they hardened, longing for attention.

"Does your cunt belong to me?"

Ordinarily, his vulgarity would have deeply offended her, but quite consciously Lyn's mind confessed that not only were his words appropriate, these unconventional circumstances demanded it - as evidenced by a sudden constriction of her thighs and the empty longing between them. As she kissed his cock once more, it was clearly evident that George was equally motivated.

"Yes, Master, my cunt belongs to you."

"Does your ass belong to me?" he asked, his voice losing some of its previous composure.

Lyn knew this would come. How could it not? Until now, she had dreaded it, but the fear had morphed to curiosity. And the unspeakable - could she actually enjoy it?

"Yes, Master, my ass belongs to you," she pledged and with the next kiss there was no doubt that George was extremely pleased.

"Very well done, my slave," he told her while bending over and raising her chin with his left hand, kissed her forehead. Maintaining his touch, he looked squarely into her eyes and continued, "But that was only phase one. You have a long way to go, but the next step will be simple."

Leaning over he retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen from the nightstand along with the candle burning there. He handed her the paper and lowered held the candle so she could read it.

"This is just a summary of what you just swore to. I expect you to sign it."

Lyn gave it a quick read. There was only one small surprise -- a caveat that if she chose to void the contract, George would reinstate the divorce proceedings and that she was already predisposed to avoid. No court would ever consider it valid, even if George were crazy enough to bring it up. Nonetheless, it was still disarming to see it spelled out in black and white, dated, and with appropriate lines for their signatures.

She took the pen from his hand, hobbled to the nightstand on her knees and signed it. Upon returning them to George he added his signature.

"Wait here, my slave," he said and headed out the bedroom door.

Lyn heard him go down the hall to his office, which was next to their bedroom, open the small wall safe. It seemed inordinately long for him close it but George was taking advantage of the time to take a series of deep breaths, calm his heart, clear his head and, most importantly, regain his resolve. It certainly seemed that Lyn was acquiescing to his demands and he believed it genuine -- in the past it had not been a matter of her reneging, she just refused any commitment. But there was so much more to implement before he would consider her conversion complete. As George reviewed his mental checklist, he closed the safe.

He reentered the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed nearest Lyn. She rotated on her knees to face him as he said, "You could probably tell that I put the contract in the safe so that we can refer to it in case you ever have any doubts of what your commitment entails. I also changed the combination, so it's only accessible to me," adding with a smile, "Although I did leave a record of the combination with my attorney, just in case I get hit by a bus."

Lyn smiled as well, more in relief than amusement -- underneath the Master persona, the "real" George still lurked.

He stood briefly to dramatically flip aside the panels of his robe, his cheerful expression now icily grave.

"Now it is time for your first lesson, my slave," he said sternly. "You will lie across my lap and I will give you the spanking you have needed for so long. If you try to resist, that will only make it more severe. Do you understand?"

The rapid change in his demeanor caught her off guard. She knew that he could easily overpower her, so, as the Borg would say, 'resistance is futile.' Although that wasn't as humorous as it might be under other circumstances, at the very least, Lyn had subconsciously anticipated this development. She could only hope that it wouldn't be too severe.

She only replied, "Yes, Master," and positioned herself as directed.

George was pleasantly surprised by her prompt cooperation -- he had been prepared for a minor struggle at the very least -- and relieved that she could not see the grin that now flickered on his lips. He could also feel the tension in her thighs as she anticipated his blows, so rather than commencing immediately, he waited. Soon her muscles quaked with fatigue, and he tenderly stroked her ass with his hand.