Dark Pt. 01: Lent Out

My Lord has been training me for a long time now, and every time I arrive, we follow the same routine: I strip naked in the hallway and leave my clothes on the floor before I step inside his living room. The only thing I'm still wearing is my neckless with the discreet and hidden token of his ownership that I wear in the outside world. He takes off the necklace and replaces it with my proper collar before I go to my cage. There I'll wait patiently until he decides to use me. Sometimes he lets others use me too, and it's been months since I've made any big mistakes.

Today he says he's pleased with my servitude, but for the winter holiday when I'm free all week, he's too busy at work to make effective use of me. Not to waste the opportunity, he has decided to lend me out to a couple he knows. He informs me that he'll bring me to them, and then collect me when they're done with me, but I'll be on my own without him for days.

He's not asking my opinion, but why should he.

***

When we walk to his car, I'm not wearing my coat. The air feels cold against my body and the thin silky dress he instructed me to wear. When we exhale, our breath freezes, and the tiny ice crystals make it look like we're evaporating smoke. If the lack of proper clothes is meant to make me feel even more unprotected and exposed than I already do from the thought of him leaving me with strangers, or to remind me of my place, it's succeeding.

Luckily, the walk to his car is short, and the car is already comfortably warm. Still, our breath and body heat make the insides of the car panes foggy, and we need to wait a minute or two for it to melt away before we start driving.

For the first minute, we sit in silence. Then he asks: "Are you ready?"

One part of me feels that I'm being thrown into the abyss, while another part of me is excited. I interpret his question as "do you trust me?"

"Yes, my Lord."

I still know nothing about who the couple are or where we're going, but I trust my Lord to have created an agreement with them that will bring me home unscathed. Unscathed as in only covered in bruises that will heal.

He starts driving east, towards the mountains. The rays of sunshine are sharp and it's glistering everywhere. I'm not wearing sunglasses like he does, so I squint my eyes when I take it all in. It's ridiculously beautiful, like an old-fashioned Christmas postcard; a dream landscape of winding roads between snow-covered pine trees.

Sitting next to him, I watch him drive. He makes me feel so safe, and relaxed. I am fully willing to give myself to him, but we both know I'm not there yet. I still have difficulties with completely letting go. I want to, but I need to really feel it. He needs to feel it. There's a difference between me wanting to be his, and me being his. In the latter, there might not even be a me anymore. It intrigues me, and I long for it, but it also scares me.

***

"Here's the deal," he says. We've been driving for 20 minutes. "They're a nice couple that I've known for a long time. I trust them to use you properly, but I also trust you to serve them well, and not let me down."

"I understand."

"You shall call them Mr. and Mrs. X at all times."

"Yes, my Lord."

I quickly try to rectify that I forgot to address him as I'm supposed to in my first answer. I can hear from his voice that he noticed, and I just hope it doesn't foreshadow my performance this week. I want to make him proud.

"Mr. X is a Dom, while Mrs. X is a switch. They'll take turns using you, while sometimes he'll use the both of you, too."

The names make it sound like they're secrets agents, and I like the theatrics of it. "I understand, my Lord."

"Mr. and Mrs. X got a cottage in the mountains where you'll be staying."

My mind wanders to the traditional cottage where my family spent almost every vacation in my childhood. Tiny, no electricity, with kerosene lamps and an open fireplace. In the winter, my father used an axe to crack a hole in the ice on the small creek next to the cabin, and then we carried buckets of icy water inside for washing and cooking.

"You will have your own bedroom and bathroom in the basement, next to the gym, sauna, and ski room. There's a separate entrance, but you're not allowed to go outside or to leave the basement without permission."

I'm drawn back into the present and reminded that nowadays a "cottage in the mountains" usually refers to a big, modern house with remote control heating, top interior facilities, and easy access to the nearest ski lift. So far it seems like I'll survive my confinement.

"I understand, my Lord."

"You must be available at all hours. They might not allow you to sleep where or when you want to. They might ask you to do simple chores, like cooking, cleaning or entertaining. Since you're staying there for several days, that's only fair, even if you're not a domestic slave."

"Yes, my Lord."

I agree it's totally reasonable. I love to cook for my Lord when I'm at his place, and I can do the same for the X's. I just hope he's warned them not to make me do anything artistic, like singing or dancing. In that department, I'm unable to make anyone proud.

"You will not get to know who they are. This means you'll be blindfolded most of the time, and when for some reason you're not, they'll wear face masks."

"Yes, my Lord."

***

The drive takes a couple of hours. It's still early afternoon when we reach our destination, but the sky is already dark blue, and the sun has gone below the horizon.

After passing a village, we make a final stop at a gas station. When my Lord opens the car door, it feels even colder than in the morning. However, the frost and altitude combined makes the air feel cleaner and fresher than any other place on Earth that I've ever visited. I love it.

My Lord returns with coffee, and we sit in the car drinking from the paper cups. The small bag my Lord packed for me lies in the backseat. From the looks of it, it holds very few items and not many garments. Apart from the missing winter coat, my shoes are barely walkable in the summer. Not that I was planning to go skiing or escape in the woods.

As we finish our coffee, he informs me of the final rule: Unless explicitly forbidden, I'm allowed to cum.

I can't help smiling. This rule will save me from a whole lot of punishment, and we both know it. From the corner of my eye, I can see that my Lord is smiling too.

"Yes, my Lord."

***

It's time for the final leg. He leans back so he can grab and open my bag and takes out my leash and a black satin blindfold. When he puts the blindfold over my head, covering my eyes, he gently kisses my forehead. I can no longer see what he's doing, but I feel the tug when he fastens the leash to my collar with a clicking sound.

He starts driving, and for the last few minutes of the ride I rest my head on the car seat. I've inched myself as close to him as possible, and I'm trying to listen for the sound of his heartbeat or at least his breathing, but all I can hear as I plunge into darkness is the humming of the car engine.