Chapter 1: Taking Her Breath Away

But he kept thinking about the way she had mentioned Chloe right before talking about masturbating. Had something happened between them? Was she trying to tell him that without violating Chloe's privacy? Should she tell him about what happened between them? Shouldn't Chloe know that if she did?

He wasn't sure what to do, so he decided to do nothing. He thought about r a great deal, and was bothered by the idea of someone else having sex with her. But he had been telling r about the necessity of moving slowly so perhaps he should take it easy for now. It wasn't like she was going to choose Chloe over him. There was nothing he could do now that it wouldn't be OK to do in a week or two after they'd had some time to talk.

13

A week later she was at Robert's apartment, bound into the corset again, sitting stiffly on a stool at his breakfast bar drinking coffee. Sitting so upright, she felt as if she should be drinking out of a teacup with her pinky finger properly positioned.

She'd dressed to his instructions every day that week. She had been uncertain whether to wait for instructions or propose something so she asked him whether she could tell him her planned outfit the night before. He allowed it, so each night she'd laid out her clothes and texted him a photo and/or description for his approval. He'd overruled her several times, telling her one day that she was not to wear a bra with the blouse and sweater she'd picked -- which meant that she would not be able to take the sweater off at work -- and another time replacing the thong she'd chosen with panties that were mostly straps that went around her waist and between her legs, with a sheer panel of fabric between the two straps in the crotch. They put constant pressure on the lips of her pussy to the point of being distracting, and she was glad he'd chosen them on a day when she'd asked to wear jeans.

On her gym days, she told him what her outfit would be, although it rarely differed other than in color. He had instructed her to wear a g-string to the gym one day and she had requested permission to wear one of the cotton thongs instead. He'd allowed it and she made sure to thank him properly.

For their Friday night date, he'd told her she would be coming to his place had having dinner near by, and told her to bring the corset. He said she should be prepared to spend most of the following day bound into it. She wasn't sure if that would work but she had her safe word, so she had left work early on Friday afternoon, went home to get the corset and change into what he'd told her to wear -- a nice knit dress with a decorated front and neckline, a tight lace top without a bra, and a pair of lace panties he bought her that were split in the crotch.

He'd taken her home after dinner, and as always she went to her knees as soon as the door closed. He held her head as she sucked him, enjoying the view of her dressed in her dinner clothes, with his cock in her mouth. He'd then pushed her to all fours, pulled her dress up over her hips, and told her to crawl into the bedroom. Once there, he pushed her head to the floor and she remained there, her ass in the air, wet cunt lips showing through the slit panties, as he undressed and changed into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

He took her by the hair and laid her down on the bed on her back. Her skirt was still around her hips, and he took off her shoes and then told her to grasp her ankles and hold herself spread for him. He got comfortable on the bed between her legs, pulled the slit panties apart, and began enjoying her pussy. He licked all over her shaved labia, trailed his tongue up to the top of the opening in her panties, teasing her clit, then began licking her lips and spreading them with his tongue. His tongue teased her opening then slowly went up between her lips to her clit and circled it, eliciting a long moan.

He repeated this multiple times, working his way down one or the other of her lips with his own, pulling and nibbling at them, tonguing her opening, a little deeper each time, then drawing his tongue slowly up to and around her clit. After a few times she begged him, "May I come, Sir?"

He didn't say anything, but his lips moved away from her cunt to the insides of her thighs, licking, kissing and biting them all the way up to the crease of her crotch, but stopping at the hem of the panties, nudging them aside slightly to lick deeper into her crotch, but avoiding her pussy. Then he moved to her face and kissed her deeply. She licked her juices off his face desperately, again begging, "Please, please, Sir, lick me?" His hands played with her hard nipples through the soft fabric of the dress, the lace providing extra stimulation.

Then moved back down between her legs. She lifted her hips urgently but his hands on her hips pushed her back down. She felt his breath on her cunt and moaned again "Please!" The tip of his tongue touched her, licked her quickly, found another spot and did the same. He continued to holder her down as she tried to move her clit to his mouth. His lips pulled her inner labia apart; she felt his teeth clamp lightly on her and pull her open further and she cried out, both in pleasure and anticipation of pain that did not come.

His tongue began teasing her opening again, and worked its way up to her clit with agonizing slowness, as his fingers slipped into her. As he finally began circling her clit with his tongue, the fingers went deeper into her. "Now you can come, slut," he said, his lips on her clit. He sucked it into his mouth and made a crooking finger inside her cunt, as if he were beckoning her to come, and she screamed and came hard. He and the bed were soaked with her when she was done. He kissed her and she licked his face like a puppy, saying "Thank you sir, thank you," over and over.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto him, and still in her dress, she spread the slit panties and lowered herself onto his cock. She worked up and down his hardness, as if she were giving him a blowjob with her pussy lips. Sometimes he wanted to use her, but sometimes he loved it when she serviced him this way. He watched her, head back and moaning, still dressed for dinner.

He put his fingers into her mouth and gripped her face tightly as he came. He held her down on him as he softened, then she felt his hand move her head upwards, and raised herself to let his cock fall out of her. Still gripping her, his fingers in her mouth and his thumb beneath her jaw, he moved her head to his cock and crotch, messy with her juices and the come that had slid out of her.

She licked it up eagerly, sucked his cock clean, and he pushed her face into his wet pubic hair. Her face covered in their mess, she rested her head in his crotch, until he got up to use the bathroom. When he came back, he told her to brush her teeth and get ready for bed.

As she stood up, she saw himself in the mirror on the back of her door. Her face was a complete mess, and her clothes were rumpled, her dress in disarray, but she was still dressed exactly as they'd been for her date. She loved seeing herself so messy and used.

She came back to bed naked and crawled in next to him. He kissed her and she lay her head on his shoulder and was asleep in minutes.

--

She had taken his cock into her mouth as soon as they woke up, without being told; she'd learned that he wanted her to start every day like that. He enjoyed her mouth for a few minutes, then got up to get dressed and told her to take her shower.

She got out to the smell of coffee and breakfast, and realized he'd given her no instructions what to wear. She didn't have that many clothes here anyway. She debated a moment, then walked into the kitchen naked. "What shall I wear, Sir?" she asked.

He turned. "Good morning, beautiful," he said with a smile. "What a lovely sight. Go back and wait in the bedroom for me and I'll be there in a moment.

She returned to the bedroom, sat on the bed, reconsidered, then got on her knees. A few minutes later he came in, and patted her head. "Very good," he said.

He had her stand, and laced her into the corset, not as tightly as he had the first day, but tight enough that she couldn't take a deep breath, and her breasts were pushed up and out. "Get a towel for the stool, and we'll have breakfast."

He wouldn't let her help with breakfast, so she sat, back very straight, sipping coffee, her hardened nipples pointing straight out from her naked breast, and her bare pussy sitting on the towel.

She had to eat breakfast slowly, since it felt like more work to swallow, and also as if she had less space for the food. He poured them both a second cup of coffee after breakfast and they sat on the couch reading the paper, her on her towel, back straight, and him next to her, leaning back. It was a lazy Saturday morning, except for the strict posture imposed by the corset's restraint.

He checked on her several times, asking how she was doing. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable, unable to find a relaxed position, the leather and steel cutting into her. She knew that he would release her if she asked, but the restriction and the discomfort were part of the work she wanted to do for him. She reassured him that she was OK, and after the third time, he told her to stand up.

"I'm going to tighten you up," he said. She nodded and turned so he could undo the laces. She felt them tighten around her middle, then compress her rib cage and further push up her breasts. Finally her abdomen was more tightly encircled. He watched her for a moment, and she nodded. He knotted the laces and she sat down again.

The most comfortable position she could find was all the way back on the couch with her back resting straight on the back of the couch. Her legs were open as he always wanted them, and rather than reading she closed her eyes and breathed evenly and meditated on what he wanted from her, what she wanted to offer him, the way she was working for him. She was wet.

But her mind turned again to Chloe. They'd only spoken briefly during the week and she was still embarrassed about what had happened on Sunday and unsure how to talk to her about it. But it was also sitting unspoken between Robert and her, so she finally asked him, "Can we talk about Chloe?"

"Of course," he said. "What's up?" She started to speak a few times, and stopped herself. He always pressed her to be clear and explicit but she didn't want him to be upset.

"She and I were a little ... flirty," she said. "On Sunday. Nothing really happened but it could have. And I haven't talked about her in a while."

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

"She's been very important to me for many years," she continued. "We've always been ... together, one way or another."

"You've always been having sex with her," he said.

She nodded. 'Yes, Sir. We've always had some kind of physical, I mean sexual, relationship. But I don't know how that fits with this."

He looked at her, nodding.

"I mean with what I want, with what we've talked about," she said, her eyes down. "With being your property."

"Do you think it can fit?" he asked.

"Maybe? I'm not sure," she said, and paused. "But I don't think that's up to me."

"That's right," he said. "It would not be your decision. How does that feel?"

She was still sitting upright, still compressed by the steel and the leather he'd bound her into, getting wet as the conversation proceeded towards what she realized now was an inevitable point.

"Sir, it feels very good," she said. "It makes me wet. When I told her that I didn't think I'd be allowed to do it, I loved the sound of those words in my mouth."

She paused, and he saw tears in her eyes. "But I don't feel good about saying that to Chloe. She didn't sign up for this control. She doesn't even know about it really. She's really important to me and if I am 'not allowed' I should have talked to her about that more directly. And I also didn't think that something would be 'not allowed' if we hadn't discussed it first."

"We didn't discuss that," he said. "If you didn't feel right being with her, that's one thing, but I didn't say anything about it."

"Then I overstepped," she said. "I'm sorry. I thought it was understood."

"I don't like having things 'understood,'" he said. "You should know by now that I like them explicit. And acknowledged."

She nodded. "I need to talk to her. I owe her an apology and I have to tell her the truth."

"What truth?" he asked.

"That you didn't tell me anything about what I could do with her," she said. "That I wanted to say it. That we've been talking about this idea of ownership and it excites me so much that I jumped the gun."

"Yes, I would appreciate that," he said. "I don't want her thinking that I did that."

"But Sir, you realize that I'm going to have to tell her more detail, right?" she said.

"I'll leave that to your judgment," he said. "I trust you, and I trust her and Kevin."

She nodded. "Thank you." She started to speak and stopped.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"I don't want to be done with her, not yet, not this way," she said. "I can see that you might not like it to continue, but can we talk about it later, when it's the right time? This isn't it."

"I agree," he said. She breathed a sigh of relief. This had been worrying her all week. She didn't want this distance from her best friend, but she had been afraid of Robert's reaction if she mended things with Chloe the way she needed to. Both of them would have had a better day Sunday if Chloe had stayed, and she could have had a very different conversation with Robert afterwards. She had been thinking about Chloe all week and wanting to take her in her arms and make it better.

She also needed to think about why it had felt so good to deny herself to Chloe on that basis, and what it meant about this relationship she was entering into. But she felt now like she had the space to think about it. Robert hadn't been pushing her, she'd been pushing herself. She didn't understand why, but perhaps she could talk to Chloe about it and get the advice of someone who knew her better than almost anyone.

She was still sitting very straight, compressed and restrained by leather and steel, but she felt relaxed in the knowledge that she could be both tightly restrained and free to be herself.

She tried to settle into acceptance, to await his next instruction, or to be used, but she couldn't do it. Finally she spoke.

"Robert, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said.

"Can you please release me, Sir," she asked. "I can't talk like this."

He turned her around and started unlacing the corset. She exhaled as it came loose, and he placed it at the end of the couch. She took a deep breath and turned around to face him.

"Robert, I think I need to slow down a little bit." She sat up. "I mean, I know I do. I don't understand what happened last weekend and I need to talk to Chloe and I have to be very honest that being with her when I'm dressed to your instructions, and responsible to report back, is not going to feel right. And it's not fair to her."

He nodded, but looked concerned. She reached for his hands. "I'm not backing out," she said. "I need to stand still right now. I went too far on Sunday and I need to get myself reoriented. I need to breathe."

She picked up the corset from where he'd put it on the end of the couch. "I love this," she said. "I cannot tell you how good it felt to be enclosed like that, to still have the marks on me, to have my every motion affected, even my breathing."

She handed it to him. "But right now I need to breathe. I promise you that I will want to be locked up like that again, but I can't do it now."

He nodded. "I hear what you're saying. I'm going to be away until the weekend anyway," he said. "Why don't you let me know towards the end of the week how you're feeling."

She exhaled a very big sigh of relief. "That's perfect. Thank you."

It didn't escape his notice that the tone had changed a little bit, that she wasn't saying "Sir," and he did not correct her.

He looked at her, naked, hair in disarray, vertical marks on her body showing where the stays had pressed into her, and a red line crossed beneath her breasts showing where they'd been pushed up. The towel he'd put down on the couch was undoubtedly marked with her juices.

But she was nodding in a "That's decided, then" way. Her eyes were showing the satisfaction she felt when outlining a plan to solve a problem. As naked as she was, she was putting on her outside self, taking a breath and taking back control.

He knew that face, and he loved it. She was so beautiful it took his breath away. He hoped that he would see that expression in her eyes shift in the opposite direction soon, that he'd see the softening as mentally or literally she went to her knees and surrendered. But right now she was standing up, and heading into the bedroom to get dressed.

He didn't text her any instructions in the morning and she didn't ask for any.

14

Chloe sat at her kitchen table, huddled around a mug of tea. Her roommate was at her boyfriend's, so when Rachele had texted this morning to ask if she'd have time to talk later, she invited her over.

It had been uncomfortable so far. Chloe had opened the door for her with a smile and a quick hug, but had turned her face away and walked briskly into the kitchen. Her friend accepted an offer of tea, and sat at the table while Chloe busied herself at the stove. They chatted about the week with an artificial lightness. Rachele was not used to feeling so awkward with her.

The water boiled and Chloe poured the tea. She sat down but neither of them spoke, just blew on the tea, waiting for it to cool. Finally, Rachele spoke.

"Chloe, I feel really bad about Sunday," she said. "After you left I wished you had stayed. I was wrong to say that to you."

Chloe nodded but didn't say anything.

"It wasn't true, what I said about not being allowed," she continued. "We hadn't talked about it, Robert and me, and he never told me that."

Chloe looked up. "Then why? Why did you say that? Why couldn't we have just ...."

"I know," her friend said. "I've been thinking about it all week. It made no sense. I wanted you so much and after you left I did masturbate, and I missed you, and I wished we could have napped together and talked more."

Chloe shook her head, her expression softening. "I went home by myself thinking about that and watched TV all afternoon."

"I know, I'm sorry," her friend said.

"Seriously -- why?" Chloe asked, a little heatedly. "It felt like shit and you knew it and there was no real reason to do it? Robert wouldn't have been upset?"

"Probably not," her friend said. "Or it would have been an opportunity to talk more about it. I said it because I was assuming..."

"That he wouldn't approve?" Chloe asked.

"No, not that," her friend responded, shaking her head. She paused. Chloe gave her a "So?" look. "Chloe, this is different," she said.

"I know," Chloe said. "I can see it's getting serious. But I didn't know it had gotten that serious that fast and I couldn't understand why you hadn't said anything before then. Now you're telling me it wasn't that at all. So what the fuck?"

"Yeah, I don't mean that the relationship is getting serious," Rachel said. "I mean it is but that's not what I mean. I am feeling differently about him and I'm not sure what it means or how to handle it."

"Differently how?"

"He makes me want to do things I haven't done before," her friend said. Chloe nodded. "You know that, or you know some of it."

Chloe raised her eyes.

"Not some," her friend amended. "You know most of it. But you don't know why or what I'm thinking." She paused and Chloe listened. Her friend was trying to figure out how to say it and finally just blurted it out.