Reformation Ch. 04

"I am, Mouse! I am!" Owen growled as he continued to slam his cock into her tight little pussy.

The fast-paced, intense fuck could not continue for long. Even though it was short, it was intense, made evident by every drop of sweat that dripped from Owen's face onto Rebecca's rosy ass. Rebecca could feel every drop running down over the curve of her rump as it made its way to the floor, pulled by gravity. The only pull Rebecca felt was the one that was pulling her to Owen. The pull was not the rhythmic thrusts of his fat cock into her; it was his powerful presence that pulled her to him. The need to submit was strongest with him and while she did not know why she needed to please him she simply knew she needed to serve him.

Owen's grunt and quickening pace brought Rebecca out of her own, mixed-up thoughts. She looked over her shoulder and into his face, noting his closed eyes and intense expression, she knew he was close to cuming. With one last final thrust, Owen pushed his cock into her pussy as far as it would go and kept it there. In that fraction of a second, Rebecca knew he was about to cum, and she was proved right when she felt his cock thicken. When the first blast of hot cum hit her cervix, Rebecca's eyes shot wide open and she looked, with shock and fear, into his eyes. The fear was washed away in the flood of bliss that flowed through Rebecca as Owen's cum began to fill her most womanly of places. Rebecca came with the thought that she had indeed brought her Sir pleasure, and fulfilled her duty to him. She shook and quaked through her orgasm and when it was over both Sir and Slut were spent and they lay together catching their breath.

Owen pulled out of Rebecca and stepped back and gained his balance before kneeling down to unfasten Rebecca's ankle cuffs from the pole. Walking around to the far end of the bench, Owen released Rebecca's wrist cuffs from the strap and Rebecca was free from her confines. Rebecca stood up as she did when Owen first met her, her hands clasping elbows behind her back and her feet shoulder-width apart. Owen smiled and got a thrill out of seeing Rebecca standing dutifully before him while he held her leash.

"You may clean my cock," Owen said with a smirk on his face.

"Yes, Sir," Rebecca replied happily.

Rebecca dropped to her knees and grasped his deflating cock, which was slick with their combined juices, in her hand and guided it to her eager mouth. Wrapping he lips around the head of it she found herself happy to have him in her mouth once again. She descended her lips on his cock until her lips were at the base of it. With hard suction she pulled back, making sure to keep every delicious morsel in her mouth. A few more times she repeated this bobbing action, in order to ensure that his cock was clean. A few licks around the shaft and over his balls made sure that her Sir's cock was clean. She smiled up at him as she fastened up his pants, content in the silent praise that his smile was.

"That was good, Mouse," Owen said with a smile as he patted Rebecca's head, her leash still in hand.

"Yes, it was, but it is time for this little mouse to scurry on back to her hole in the church." Heather said in a condescending tone of voice, with a chuckle.

Rebecca knew that it was time to go, time to return to her squeaky-clean, vanilla life. With a nod, Owen led Rebecca by the leash over to the door to the women's changing room. As they walked Rebecca was filled with conflicting emotions, part of her was happy to be leaving this sick place, the other part of her was sad to be leaving; sad to be leaving Sir. She felt a connection to him and doing things with him, made her time in this place enjoyable, meaningful even. As Owen unclipped the leash from her collar, she felt sad and already missed the physical connection she had to him. Leaving felt wrong and before she could stop herself, words leapt from her lips.

"Can I come back tomorrow, Mistress?" Rebecca asked meekly, with her head down.

"But you're a 'once-a-week gal', every Saturday, like clockwork! Why the need to come back on a Sunday, yet?" Heather said in a mocking tone of voice and laughed as she waited to hear what Rebecca had to say.

"I . . . I want to help, Sir . . . I want to help in his training, Mistress," Rebecca said in a soft tone of voice.

"But we'll be training every evening for some time yet," Heather said with a raised eyebrow.

"I know," Rebecca replied while shifting her weight from one foot to the other, still looking at the floor.

"Are you willing to come in every evening?" Heather asked in a firm tone.

"Yes, Mistress," Rebecca said as she looked up and into Heather's eyes.

"Why?" Heather asked curiously, with a knowing smirk on her face.

"I like, Sir, and want to help him, Mistress," Rebecca said with a furrowed brow, keeping her eyes away from looking at Owen.

"Very well, You may help, dismissed," Heather said with a commanding tone of voice.

"Thank you, Mistress," Rebecca said with a grateful smile on her face as she bowed to Heather.

Rebecca walked into the women's change room and Owen was about to walk to the men's change room when Heather stopped him. She wore a self-pleased smirk on her face and shook her head and chuckled briefly.

"I think you two will be good for each other. You two have already developed a rapport. You need to be comfortable with the person you are working with, in this stage of your training. I also think that working with you will do her a world of good, perhaps even dispel her illusions of 'curing herself' of her submissiveness," Heather said with a laugh as she walked away, leaving Owen to wonder if working with Rebecca was a good thing or not.

As Owen bedded down in the guest bedroom of Heather's private portion of the warehouse complex, he had trouble sleeping. Taryn or Rosina were nowhere nearby, even as he had distanced himself from them this past while it was always comforting to know they were near. Now he was alone in a strange bed, in a strange place, with nether his beloved Red or Cat to comfort him. As Owen waited for sleep to come he missed Taryn and Rosina, he missed them as: companions, lovers, Slaves but most of all, as family. The confusion over what the right thing to do by them weighed heavily on his troubled mind. What right did he have to continue a relationship that may very well scar them or screw them up in the long run? Was it right to avoid them all together? The struggle to determine what was right and what was wrong was far from over in Owen's mind.