Honoring My Father's Last Words

Not that I was complaining.

I moaned my response into her mouth and I felt her smile against me. My muted voice of pleasure seemed to spur her further into breaking through our old boundary of me just being her assistant to something much more fulfilling. She unzipped my pants. With a flick of her thumb and index finger, she unbuttoned them too.

My cock felt the open air. My cock felt Megan's hand. She treated my manhood with a delicate, feathery touch which caused my erection to twitch. It gave me the impression that her actions were not only for my benefit, but for hers as well. She was curious.

So was I.

I slipped my right hand in between us. There was a paper thin gap separating my hand and the promised land - Megan's breast. I tentatively moved forward. I felt her shirt and barely applied force. Upon knowing what I was attempting to accomplish, Megan pressed her body forward, my hand immediately grasped her clothed mound - Oh My! I have never touched anything so amazing. So soft. So pliable. So utterly wonderful. I jiggled them. I twisted them. I groped them. It was my very own hands on workshop and I attempted every possibility.

It didn't take long for my body to act beyond my reason. Completely involuntary, my midsection thrust upward. My body was begging for a more firm touch.

Megan was absolutely exuberant with my reaction. She giggled into my mouth before intensifying our already deep kiss. Her hand seemed to understand my uncontrolled movement as it encased my engorged organ. She began a pumping action and it was quickly met with my hips meeting her pace.

How could I not control that?

I didn't last long. I broke our kiss, another involuntary movement on my part, and my tone seemed to jump two octaves as I voiced my pleasure, "Oh, dear God." It seemed fitting to bring God into this momentous occasion.

I came. I came hard. My body tightened and I shot forth my essence into the air. I slumped back into the couch while Megan curled up next to me, her hand now caressing what was left of my erection.

I grabbed the left over dinner napkins and handed them to Megan. She cleaned her hand quickly and tossed them onto the coffee table. All without even the slightest shift in her body. It was obvious she didn't want to leave the cuddle we were sharing. I didn't blame her as neither did I. I pulled the afghan that was draped over the back of the couch and wrapped us into it, firmly molding our bodies together.

It didn't take long for sleep to sweep over both of us.

*

I felt the morning light tickle my eyelids. I went to rub my eyes and realized I couldn't as I was entangled in something...err, I should say someone. I opened my eyes and glanced down. Megan was still cuddled with me and she looked beautiful. I involuntarily smiled at seeing her... my body seemed to be doing a lot of involuntary movements lately. I gave a light chuckle at my own thought and it lasted until I looked at the clock... seven thirty... in the morning. I should be leaving right now and Megan should be leaving in ten minutes. But here we were, just lying cuddled together with her hand still resting on my manhood.

"Megan," I lightly shook her form. "It's seven thirty. We're going to be late."

Megan's eyes fluttered open. She saw me and broadly smiled, "Morning." She brushed at her hair as she dreamily gazed at me. "What time did you say it was?"

"Seven thirty."

Megan let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't want to get up."

"Neither do I, but..."

"I know," Megan cut me off. She gave me a brief kiss before continuing, "Work and school are calling."

I never saw two people move faster than at that moment. I had already missed two days of school so I knew I had to go today. She obviously has to go to work as there are still bills to pay. Life sure can get in the way of a person trying to make another person their own. At least I got another kiss from her before I ran out of the house. Megan's lips are addicting.

The day was brutally long. I was behind from missing two days and distracted because all I could think about was Megan. I did all I could, however, to catch up. I skipped lunch to do homework. I hurried to class so I could do homework while the teacher did attendance. I did homework on the bus ride home. I even spoke a report into my recorder as I walked from the bus stop to home. All so I could make sure my attention and focus was on one Megan Reed. My influence was obviously working. Now it was time to strengthen it.

When I arrived home, I was surprised Megan's car was in the driveway. I was immediately nervous. I hesitantly opened the door and peeked in. Everything appeared normal... Normal except Megan was in the kitchen singing to one of the CD's I had burned. Being that the songs were only a couple minutes each, the messages they advertised were much more straight forward like, "Love Sam" and "Devote yourself to Sam." I felt I achieved something as she unknowingly already started the strengthening of her conditioning on her own, but still, why was she home?

"Hello?" I called out as I set my book bag down. "Megan?"

"Sam!" Megan's footfalls came quick and when she turned the corner, my eyes bugged out of my head and I gulped at the vision. She was running. She was running in a red bustier with black trim, and a matching thong with garters attached to fishnet stockings. To complete her ensemble, she was wearing a black collar. This was new.

"Wow." It was all I could say.

Megan stopped right in front of me, looking at me in that odd way again. "Welcome home, Baby." She kissed me and it was wonderful as usual.

"You look absolutely amazing."

"You think so?" Megan blushed at my compliment. "Then you're going to love this."

Megan dropped to her knees. I wasn't sure what she was hoping to accomplish, but after last night, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She deftly worked open my jeans before she lowered them along with my underwear to a point where my cock was sticking straight out. She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes locking with mine as she parted her lips and moved closer.

Megan's lips touched the underside of my shaft while her tongue grazed it. She moved all around, offering almost a teasing sensation to every spot she encountered. When she came to the tip, her mouth opened wider and she leaned forward. My erection slowly disappeared between her parted lips.

"Oh, God." I had to grab onto something, lest I fall, but from where I was, nothing was in reach. The only thing I could do was reach out and entwine my hand into Megan's hair.

Megan took that as some sort of signal and frankly, I'm glad she did because I had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating. It was euphoric. Her head started franticly bobbing on my erection and I was already conspiring as to how many times a week or even per day I was going to condition Megan to do this to me.

I lasted a little longer than yesterday, but not much. I felt the churning, my body on the precipice of something spectacular. I couldn't move. The hand on the back of Megan's head clamped down.

"Oh, dear God."

I lost all my senses as I let loose a torrent of what felt like my soul into Megan's awaiting mouth. My body quaked in delight and I would have collapsed if I wasn't holding onto her head... Her head!

I released my captive and she coughed before she desperately inhaled.

Oops. "I'm so sorry Megan."

Megan looked up at me. She had tears in her eyes from not being able to breath but still had a smile on her face... along with my cum. "No, I'm sorry. I've never done that before so I wasn't expecting it. I'll do better next time. I promise."

Sorry? Better next time? I was just grateful she wanted to do it again on her own. "No need for sorry. That was one of the greatest experiences of my life."

Megan beamed at my comment. "I also made dinner; chicken Alfredo. I figured you've made sure dinner was ready the past two nights, today was my turn."

"Sounds and smells delicious."

I sat at the kitchen table as she served dinner. It is really a sight to behold to watch a woman do everyday activities wearing lingerie.

"So how did you beat me home?"

Megan grinned an 'I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar' grin. "I called in sick. I needed to pick up a few things." She then did a pirouette to show me her new ensemble. "Do you like?"

I looked her dead in the eyes, "Breathtakingly Beautiful. When I saw you running to me, me heart skipped in my chest."

"I'm glad you like it. I just felt you deserved to have something visually stimulating while you're at home." Megan then sat down, "But this is just for you. I wouldn't want anyone to try and break the tenth commandment just because I dressed inappropriately."

"I wouldn't have even dreamed of asking you to. But I must admit, I am really enjoying the new look." I took a bite of the pasta, "Not to mention the food. You are an impressive cook."

"Thank you."

I could tell Megan truly felt pride. From her looks to her cooking, all that she did today was an overwhelming success.

We went to bed separately; Megan in her bed and I on the couch. I think with all that we have done, we almost forgot we weren't actually married yet and so, we went to sleep separately. It also afforded me the opportunity to manipulate her dreams.

And I was resolute.

I went down to the basement and accessed my computer. Auditory sensory stimulus works best to negotiate another's dreams, but the trick is to keep the stimulus light. I didn't want to wake her. What I had made was simple storytelling. Since REM sleep varies to between five minutes to forty five minutes, I told a series of short stories, no more than five minutes long, with her and I as the stars. We would be eating out at a restaurant or having a picnic. We would be cuddling on the couch watching a movie or I'd have my arm around her while at the theatre. We were at our wedding or watching our kids play in the backyard while we watched from a couple lawn chairs. Simple scenarios, really.

I kept it playing but gave it an automated shutoff time at three forty five. Megan normally got up at six thirty and a typical sleep cycle is an hour and a half. I felt it better to have it shut off before the last cycle just in case something woke her up in the middle of it. People tend to be most restless that last cycle. I went to bed.

*

I was almost late for school. Not because I overslept or I had to run back home because I forgot something... no, it was because the good bye kiss Megan and I shared was that long. Absolutely amazing - especially since she was still wearing her lingerie.

The day was again brutally long. The good news was that I had a good Christian woman waiting for me at home. Or I suppose it would be I'll be waiting for her at home. Regardless of point of view, I knew Megan was all mine.

*

Or not. I came home and Megan was there. Surprising yes, but since she did it the day before, I was less worried. I opened the door half expecting her to be on her knees waiting for me half expecting her to be cooking in the kitchen. I wished it was either one of those scenarios. No, Megan was pacing the living room in her lingerie with her purse in one hand, keys in the other, and her shoes on as if she was ready to leave.

"Megan, what's wrong?"

"Sam," Megan's eyes showed a deep fear and she took two steps away from me. "I... I... I don't know. There's something not right. There's something not right with me."

"Tell me," I soothed. "What's not right? What can I do to make it better?"

"After you left, I went to the bathroom to get ready. I caught myself staring at the way I looked in the mirror... for two hours! Thank the Lord I had the good sense to call in sick but," Megan's eyes became swimming pools as she welled up on verge of exploding. "I shouldn't be feeling like this!" The flood gates opened and she started to cry.

"Feeling like what?"

"Like right now," Megan sniffled. "All I want to do is come over there, pull down your pants and suck you off. Or... Or just run over there and make out with you. Look at me," Megan's arms flailed wide. "I never would have worn this before and when I'm in the house, I can't take it off. Worse of all, I got you involved in this. I'm even dreaming about you," her crying then turned into a sob.

I was hoping it wouldn't have come to this. Up till now, everything I've done was attacking her subconscious. I had hoped that would be enough. Alas, I now have to break her conscious mind as well.

"Megan. Poor Megan... I like you." Her head jerked up at that statement. "As first as a mentor and then as a friend," I refrained from adding and now as a wife. "I like you and as you had offered to help me, I will help you." I walked over to her and took her hand. "Follow me."

I felt the hesitation in Megan as I lead her to the basement. She was trembling.

"Even right now," Megan's voice was barely a whisper as if she was afraid of repercussion, "I feel I should be asking why we are going to the basement, but I can't actually bring myself to ask it. It was hard even saying it this way."

"You should trust your instincts Megan. If your body is telling you to trust me or wear lingerie, then you should." I sat her on my father's old commode and began tying her hands to the arms with speaker wire. I then removed her thong and tied her ankles to the legs the same way. "Nothing's wrong with trusting yourself."

Megan looked around and her fear increased though she only seemed to be able to express it with random unintelligible syllables. She still couldn't argue with me.

I went to the computer, turned on the webcam, and set up a private channel. I then brought up the file from her hypnotism and turned the sound up to full blast. Immediately, Megan's own voice began telling her that she should think of me first. That she should never argue with me. She is to not lie or cheat or steal from me. That she is to keep the house in good order and food prepared. I may help her, but it is her responsibility. She is also to wear only lingerie in the house but her current clothes are fine outside of the home. She is to always be creative and willing to please me sexually. That she is to be my wife. I then turned on the strobe light and adjusted it to where it would often hit her. The frequent bright flashes should do well enough to keep her from dozing off.

This was going to be my combined version of what some prisoners of war had to endure and the Stockholm Syndrome. The POW's were sleep and food deprived to weaken their minds. They were then demoralized by having their own comrades throw insults at them. It is much more effective than hearing it from your captives. In my version, Megan is going to be told what to do from herself. She will then correlate that she is the one torturing her. I am then going to cause a Stockholm Syndrome effect by coming in periodically to turn off the player and provide very small amounts of food and water which will generate sympathy for me as she perceives the lack of abuse when I am there as kindness. This will, in turn, create in her that we share the same values.

And I was resolute.

I turned off the monitor and went to the top of the stairs. With a flick of a finger, I turned off the remaining lights. Megan was now alone in the dark. Her only companion was her voice and her only light was from the menacing strobe light.

I contacted Megan's work to call her off tomorrow. It was her last sick day and I hoped that all would be complete by Monday morning lest she be fired. I really would feel guilty if that happened.

I set up Megan's computer so I could watch my future wife. A proper husband would never let any harm come to his spouse. I then studied. I watched television. I read a book. I tried to occupy myself until I had to go back downstairs.

Eight hours. That is what I gave myself as a timeframe. Every eight hours I went to see Megan and offered her a slice of bread and some water while checking the commode for any deposits. Every eight hours I saw Megan run through the gambit of emotions; depression, anger, scared, hopelessness, confusion... Every eight hours it was something new. All without a word spoken to me.

It took two days before I saw a glimmer of the end. I came down and did my normal routine. I turned off the computer, fed her a slice of bread, gave her a small glass of water, and checked the commode.

"Thank you."

The words were barely audible as if spoken from the shiest of child's after prodding from a parent.

I knelt down in front of Megan and my hand caressed her check, "I promise I will get you out of this. I promise to save my wife." My lips scraped against hers for the briefest of moments before I hurriedly ran from the room. It was all meant to create the impression that some other force was keeping me from giving her salvation.

Eight hours later I returned. She was quietly repeating the recorded words she was forced to listen to; even after I shut it off. This time I brought a very small portion of the leftover chicken Alfredo. "Here, I snuck this for you."

Megan's eyes told me everything. To her, that small gesture was the equivalent of the Lord dying for all man's sins.

"Thank you."

Megan's words were spoken the same as last time, the only difference was she offered the faintest of smiles.

Our eyes met and I reciprocated the slight smile. I made haste and left again, certain that the next time I came downstairs would be my last.

It was seven a.m. Sunday morning. I had prepared a large breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes adorned the kitchen table. I verified I had the small box in my pocket and smiled, certain that today will be the first day of the rest of my and Megan's life. My hand clutched the basement door and I took a deep breath before opening it and turning on the light.

I rushed downstairs. Megan barely lifted her head, now stating the recorded message with conviction. I had only paused a moment before I went to the computer. Instead of just closing down the torture device, I made a grand gesture by unplugging the power cord from the back of it and tossed the wire. I charged the strobe light and knocked it over. I then turned towards Megan. I knelt down; keeping my eyes locked onto hers as I began untying her restraints. "I have kept my promise and I have freed you."

When she had full use of her body, Megan fell forward into my arms. Her lips met mine and we kissed.

"I knew you would. I knew my husband would save me. My hero, my husband."

"Yeah, about that."

My words gave her pause and I knew she thought I was rejecting her. Tears began to form in her eyes.

In reality it was a stall tactic as I reached into my pocket. I pulled out the box and flipped it open, "Let's make that official. Will you marry me?"

The ring was a simple gold band with a solitary diamond. My grandmother had given it to me before she had passed away last year in hopes that my future marriage to whoever I gave it to would endure the test of time as hers and my grandfathers had done.

Megan did start crying, but this time it was tears of joy. "Yes. A million times, yes." She stared appreciatively at the ring as I slipped it on her finger. She then looked me in the eyes, gazing at me in the way that always made me adore her. "I know it has been a while since I've done my wifely duties; will you make love to me? I know you want me to be creative sexually and I promise I will, but please, will you make love to your wife on this day?

"As long as we can get married today, for I do not wish to be disgraced in the eyes of God." I rolled her onto her back. "I'm sure Father Eckhart would do it after mass today. I don't want to wait. We can still plan a wedding, one that our friends and relatives can witness, but I don't want to spend another day without you as my wife."