Snowbound

Carole was in serious trouble, and she knew it. If she didn't get out of the weather before too long she was going to freeze to death. Separated from her skiing party, she had gone the wrong way, into increasingly driving snow. Now she was past shivering, hypothermia was taking hold. She knew she was going to freeze to death within a couple of short hours. Carole didn't know exactly how long it took for a person to die from exposure, figures were irrelevant at this stage to her, she just knew it wasn't going to be long!

Stumbling on, unable to see more than a few feet in front of her, following what she believed may have been a path, she looked for some form of shelter, anything to get out of the weather. Then, when she felt unable to continue, the snow had eased for the briefest of moments, and up ahead and to her left, she could see the dimmest of lights. Forcing herself forward, toward the light, she blindly stumbled through a small fast flowing stream, the freezing water burning like knives. Her skiing attire was never designed to provide this sort of protection from the elements.

Carole lost sight of the light, but continued onward regardless, knowing this was her only chance of survival. Again she caught sight of the light, brighter now, but the last few metres appeared to be going to beat her. Angry with herself for her weakness, she literally dragged herself forward to the door. She fell against the door rather than knocked, and trying to turn the handle was beyond her ability in her present state. Lying in a crumpled pile at the foot of the door, Carole fumbled with the door handle, and then lost consciousness.

How long she slept was not clear to her until much later, as was how she had managed to end up in a bed. But she was warm at least and very thankful for that. She drifted in and out of sleep for the first morning and most of the afternoon, unaware of who had come to her rescue, who had seen fit to take care of her, or indeed, where she in fact was. Unaware also, of the man who entered on several occasions to check her welfare.

Evening came, and Carole awoke to find an elderly man with rugged good looks sitting on the end of the bed watching her.

"Hi," she croaked.

The man appraised Carole in silence for five long seconds before he responded.

"Hi yourself. How are you feeling?" Without waiting for a response, he smiled suddenly and continued, "You really shouldn't wander around out there in this weather, you might catch a cold."

Carole tried to sit up, but found the effort was too much just yet.

"I can't thank you enough. I thought I was going to die. I don't think I would have lasted much longer in this weather. And by the sounds of it, it doesn't seem to have let up at all."

"You must be Carole." A statement, more than a question.

"Yes, how did you know?" she asked.

"I've been in touch with the authorities by telephone, and advised them of your presence and location, and they in turn advised me of who you are, and that they had been in the process of preparing a search for you, to begin as soon as the weather eases.

"However, they have also advised me that this has set in, and may continue for another three to four days. I'm afraid that you would have been well and truly beyond any help by then. I informed them that you were hypothermic when I found you, but that now you are fine. I also told them that I would look after you, and see to it that you arrived back at the lodge when the weather clears.

"So, until then, it seems you are a prisoner here."

For some unaccountable reason, the last statement sent a shiver through Carole, or perhaps it was simply the aftermath of her ordeal with the ice and snow.

The man stood and turned for the door, giving Carole a good look at the man who had pulled her from death's door, literally, and whom it appeared, she would be spending the next three or four days with.

He was tallish, approximately six foot, Carole guessed. Somewhat older than Carole. In fact, Carole was guessing he was around fifty, give or take a couple of years. And trim, without being lean. Not huge by any means. The sort of build you would expect on a man who has remained active all his life. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a tee shirt.

"I don't even know your name to thank you properly."

"Master."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Masters. Jack Masters."

"Oh. Well, thank you Jack. I know this sound's like a clique, but I really don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."

Jack paused as he reached doorway, glanced back over his shoulder, and with a twinkle in his eye, responded,

"Oh, we have at least three days to work something out." And then he had left the room before Carole could tell whether he was joking or not. Surely he was, she thought. He had to be. "Yes, I'm sure it was a joke. I must still be tired."

As she took stock of her surroundings, she noted she was in a large bed, a queen size by the look of it, made of a dark wood, and with posts in each corner. Soft sheets, with one blanket, as the room was lovely and warm. The room itself was quite spacious, and had a masculine feel to it...yes, unmistakably masculine. There was a large mirror on the wall to the side of the bed, a large window on the wall past the foot of the bed, and as she surveyed the rest of the room she saw above the bed head a framed print of a beautiful semi naked woman reclining. A chest of drawers below the mirror, a bedside table on either side of the bed, and an antique looking chair in the corner completed the furniture in the room. Attached, to the side, was a walk-in robe, and an ensuite.

Suddenly it dawned on Carole that he must have undressed her, warmed her in some way, and placed her in bed. She realised that she was dressed in a man's shirt, most probably his, and that she had no other clothing on, no bra, and no panties.

No panties! Oh no! What had she done?! Last night, (was it last night?) feeling daring, and silly, and in the holiday mood, and being more than a little tipsy, Carole had shaved her pussy! Leaving a small patch of naturally auburn hair at the top, Carole had shaved her bikini line and vulva. In fact, as Carole felt herself now, she knew she was completely bare down there, not even a single strand of hair other than the little strip on her mound. Carole was not a prude by any means, but she was definitely more than a little embarrassed.

Carole was quite pleasing to the eye. Standing a little over five foot, she was a natural redhead, with green eyes, and a pretty face, and for a woman just turned forty, not a bad body at all. A Marylyn Munro figure with 36D cup breasts, she was definitely beddable. No, Carole was not undesirable.

She just felt a little weird, that was all. To have been unconscious, undressed by a man she had never met, completely naked, and obviously handled by him to have been placed in the bed, and to be dressed in his shirt......

"Stop it!" she said to herself. "Here is an attractive man....did I say attractive? Yes I suppose he is. Here is a man....there that's better; here is a man who has saved my life! I should be eternally grateful!" Then why, she wondered did she have this feeling of unease, after only one brief talk with him?

Carole threw back the blanket and had just placed one foot on the floor, her other leg still on the bed, with the shirt riding up to her hips, when Jack walked in with a tray of warm soup, some toast, and a hot cup of tea. Her naked pussy had been exposed, for the briefest of moments before she rebounded back into the bed but did not have time to pull the blanket up to cover herself. Instead, she held the tails of the shirt down as best she could without being obvious. If Jack had seen anything he gave no sign of it, although Carole couldn't see how he could not have seen. Besides, she knew he had already seen as much of her as he could possibly want. Maybe she was being silly. Yes, she decided, she was. Her feeling of unease began to fade a little.

"This should help return your energy," he said.

Feeling very awkward with Jack walking in on her at just the wrong moment, Carole found it very hard to look him in the eyes. Forcing herself, she raised her head and thanked him.

As he placed the tray on her outstretched legs, his hands brushing down the sides of both thighs as he did so. Carole jumped slightly at the contact, almost spilling the tea, and she felt a tingle run through her.

"I'm sorry" Jack said.

Before she realised it, Jack reached up with one hand and cupped her face.

"You must still be tired. Rest. We have plenty of time. Just place the tray to the side when you're finished and I will collect it later. You need to rest. You will be fine tomorrow. I will see you in the morning."

"Thank you," was all Carole could manage to say. For some reason, she had not been able to look at Jack, and had looked down submissively, when he had held her face.

But she also knew there had been something in the touch of his hands on her thighs, and the way he held her face. It was......intimate. Yes, that was it. There was a feeling of intimacy in the way he touched her. And something else. It was controlling. And for some reason, Carole felt she was not at all in control of any of this. Surely she was being paranoid!

Carole tried to push these thoughts away and concentrated on devouring the soup and toast, and savoured the lovely cup of tea. When she was finished, she placed the tray on one of the bedside tables, lay back, and before long fell into a heavy sleep, that took her right through the night.

On waking in the morning, Carole listened for signs of Jack, and hearing none, slipped quietly out of bed and into the ensuite. She completed her ablutions, started the shower, waiting for the water to run hot, and then stepped in, relishing the feel of steaming water as it streamed through her hair and down her body. Spending a good five minutes soaking up the warmth of the water, Carole stepped out and dried herself on a soft white fluffy towel. She then selected a second, dry towel, and wrapped it around herself, which covered all of her, down to the top third of her thighs. With the used towel, she wrapped it around her hair, and thus "dressed" she walked out through the bedroom to take her first look at the house she would spend the next three days in.

It was a large house, with an open plan living area. The bedroom Carole had occupied was one of five, all large, two, including the master bedroom with their own ensuite, and all fully furnished. The master bedroom, she was to learn, was half as large again as the others. She first passed a bathroom that was spacious, and lavishly finished, with floor to ceiling tiles, a large mirror, glass shower stall, and a corner spa bath. Next there was a toilet, the laundry, and three of the other bedrooms, furnished similar to the one she occupied, but without ensuites. The hallway ended with the last bedroom, so Carole backtracked to her room and turned to her left, taking her into a very large day room, what in most houses would be the family room, but this one was more of a sitting room with a couple of lounges placed in such a way as to take in the view from what appeared to be the back wall of the house, that was almost entirely glass. Double French doors opened onto decking with a banister. The only thing to be seen, however, was the driving snow, and little else. Leading off the day room was a games room with a full size snooker table, several stools, and a bar in the one corner. Overlooking the day room was a galley kitchen, very modern, and very clean, with all the modern conveniences and appliances.

Carole had expected to see Jack by now, so she continued to wander through the house, looking for him. She left through the kitchen, continuing to explore as she went, and entered a spacious dining room with a beautiful dining table with space for eight people, made of rich mahogany wood with matching chairs, sitting on lush carpet. The dining room itself overlooked a spacious sunken lounge room, which, like the rest of the house, had a definite male presence about it. The lounge chairs themselves were of a rich deep colour. Side tables and lamps were beside the main lounge, casting a warm subdued lighting throughout the room. On one wall was a large plasma flat screen television, with a cabinet beneath, which Carole presumed held the owner's stereo and DVD player. A slow combustion heater, recessed into one wall, was burning, accounting for the general warmth throughout the house. It appeared to be very efficient.

The entire house, so far, had been clean and tidy, with nothing out of place. This man was definitely not a slob. Open French doors led through the far wall of the lounge into an entrance hallway, where large double doors, the doors Carole assumed, being the same ones she last remembered collapsing against, were shut against the ferocious weather she could still hear raging outside.

Entering the hall and following it, Carole continued her unguided tour of the house, quietly amazed at the size of it and quality of the furnishings and fittings. She was starting to feel somewhat uneasy, not having yet found Jack, but then she still hadn't completed her circuit of the house yet. Just the same, Carole called out to Jack in a tentative voice. No response.

Still more doors led off the hallway she was in, most prominent belonging to the main bedroom. The door was ajar, and with a slight push, it swung quietly open to reveal a very spacious master bedroom, lavishly furnished, with large bay windows. The curtains were drawn, letting in the soft filtered light of early morning. Carole jumped when she realised that the room was occupied. On the bed lay Jack, breathing deeply in sleep.

Automatically, Carole started to back out of the room, but then she stopped. Feeling very nervous, but unable to help herself, she stepped cautiously into the room, advancing half way to the bed. Ready to retreat, like a bird poised to take flight, Carole took the opportunity to have a good look at her host, while he was unable to know that he was being observed. After all, she reasoned, he had observed her in just such a position.

Yes, her first impression had been correct. He was an attractive man, even in sleep. The room, like the rest of the house, was warm but not hot or stifling, and Jack slept with just a sheet that covered him to the waist. One hand rested on his stomach, with the other arm thrown back over his head, he lay on his back snoring softly.

Carole took another tentative step toward the bed, and then other, and then she had advanced to the foot of the bed before she realised it. Jack had no facial hair, but had a full chest of hair, which Carole watched rise and fall as he slept. And then something happened that Carole had never seen before, not even in the fifteen years she had been married. Jack started to get an erection in his sleep. Where the sheets rested at the junction of his legs, the outline of his penis was visible, and then his penis started to thicken. Before long, the sheet started to rise, tenting like a tepee. Again, Carole wanted to leave, and again she seemed unable to do so. He certainly wasn't small, she thought!

Soon, Carole caught herself fantasizing, as Jack slept, imagining herself impaled on his now fully erect cock, hands straight out in front of her holding onto the bed head, Jack cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

Suddenly, Jack stirred, and Carole found she had bolted for the door before she had even realised she had moved! As she reached for the door, she looked back over her shoulder and saw that Jack was still sound asleep. Carole wondered how anyone could ever steal into someone else's house and rob them while they slept. She knew she would never have the nerves for it.

Carole pulled the door to, and listened to the sound of Jack's breathing for a moment longer, just to be sure. Yes, he was still sound asleep. She waited a moment longer to allow herself to calm down, and then she moved on.

Further down the hall Carole stopped again, and leaned against the wall, still a little on edge from the start she had given herself. Deciding she would just go back to her room and wait for Jack to wake, Carole continued along the hallway. She passed a couple of doors that appeared to be cupboards on either side of the hall, a study with the usual items of desk, computer, printer, and assorted stationary, all very neat, and was about to pass another door, this one closed, when she decided, what the hell. Carole hesitantly opened the door, and found a set of stairs leading down. She presumed they led to a garage, for at the bottom of the stairs was another door, also shut. About to close the upper door, she changed her mind and descended the stairs, and opened the second door. The room was in darkness, but by running her hand along the wall near the doorway, Carole found the light switch, and turned the lights on.

What she found took her breath away. It was a dungeon, complete with all manner of equipment for the administration of bondage and discipline! Just what, Carole wondered, had she gotten herself into? On the walls was an array of various whips, chains, clamps, and restrain devices, masks and gags, rings and eyebolts fastened to the walls to hold some poor unsuspecting soul who happened to tumble in out of the snow! There were other items as well; things Carole had no idea to which their purpose was intended. There were leather contraptions, bars with leather loops for holding arms and legs, and there was a couple of benches, also with restraint holds, and what looked like a leather swing, hanging from chains from the beams that spanned the ceiling. Also at various intervals, there were other chains hanging from the beams. The floor itself was the only harmless looking thing in the room, being covered in a lush deep red carpet. The room was again very spacious. The entire effect was both frightening, and intriguing.

All of this, Carole took in in a moment, and then she knew she had to leave before Jack woke and found her in his lair. She turned and bolted up the stairs, pulling the door behind her as she entered the hallway, shutting it with more force than she had intended. From there, she practically sprinted to the end of the hall, ignoring two other doors on her left, she turned right and found herself back at the kitchen, which she skirted, passing straight through the day room, making her way back to her room.

She had to get out of here. Ok. How? She had no money, no clothes! And nowhere to run to! What to do? Think!

The phone! Yes that was it, she'd call for help to come and get her somehow! And what would she tell them? That the man who had saved her life, nursed her back from the brink of death, had done nothing to her except show kindness. But he has a dungeon!

Ok, ok! Calming herself down, Carole tried to think clearly. Clothes were something she had do do something about. She certainly wasn't going to go prancing around this mansion anymore in a towel that barely covered her. The shirt Jack had supplied her wasn't any better. Sitting on the bed with her legs pressed close together and her hands in her lap, she contemplated her predicament And that was when Jack walked in.

"Good morning. I'm glad to see you're up. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Er....fine thanks. Yes, I'm fine" Carole stated nervously.

"Good. Do you feel like some breakfast?"

"Yes, that would be great thanks," affirmed Carole, "Er...are my clothes dry, or would you by any chance have any clothes I could borrow?"

"Yes, of course. How unthinking of me! You'll find some ladies clothes in the wardrobe and the drawers in the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Just go straight ahead when you come out of here. You can't miss it. There isn't much, but I should think you will find something in there that will fit you."