Kira Tales Ch. 01: Kira's Journey

Revealed in this way it was easy to become his compliant willing archetype, soaking up the history, philosophy and psychology of her special semi-divine generosity. Oh yes, her sexuality deserved to be honored. To be fully developed. To be widely shared. To be integrated with wisdom and skillful means. To be made whole in the grandest possible sense of the word.

Master now delighted in toying with Kira as she lay on her back, head in his lap. The blanket was shifted this way and that, depending on his whim, sometimes unveiling her belly and open jeans, sometimes bringing her breasts full into view. And his hands were never at rest. They wandered the full length of her, from hairline to cunt where they would effortlessly slide beneath the lacy black panties and deep inside her sex. She could smell her scent in the air as he pulled out sticky fingers for her to suck or whose wetness he would massage across her stomach and chest. Sometimes teasing her nipples or clit, sometimes slowly fucking her with his fingers, he would talk to her in whispers.

"Look at you," he would say. "Look how beautiful you are. You are a glorious generous woman unlike any other. You are a pioneer breaking down old worn barriers. A beacon for others to see."

He would push deep inside her so that she bucked against his hand, wanting him to finish her. "Your body is my gift. Your sex belongs to me. Along with these beautiful breasts, this sopping wet cunt, those gorgeous and eyes and lips. And this sharp-witted, intelligent mind. You have given all these things to me," he would say, pulling away to leave the blood pulse pounding in her ears and her breathing ragged.

"And you know I will give all of it away, too, again and again. For others to enjoy."

This last idea hooked Kira every time. She knew her sexuality was bigger than them both, bigger than any single relationship could contain. She wanted to belong to a man but she did not want to be held back by him. And so this man, her Master, satisfied her beyond words. He was her guide, but not her slaver. He was her trainer and he sometimes set her free.

To wander. To embrace the world on her own terms. Then to return to him... so long as it worked.

The thought of being loved and cherished while in the same moment being given away? It raised the tension inside her to bursting. Always. Delicious, sensitive, daring, unpredictable..? Oh my god...

She twisted in his lap and rolled her head. "Stop," she said. "Or I'm going to cum. I can't stand any more. Or just let me cum please. Please?"

His hands went back between her legs instantly, stroking and pushing and pulling. Kira ground her teeth and sucked in her breath, straining to meet the rigid fingers pushing in and out of her, in and out, in and out.

"You may not cum," he said.

"Ride the wave, pet. Breathe. Open up. Fuck my hand. Open up to me. But you may not cum."

It went on and on like that. Hours of it. At times he would stop, raise up his newspaper as if interested in the information there. Passengers or flight attendants might wander the aisle, stretching their legs or otherwise involved in their own tiny worlds. Aside from the musty fragrance thrown up by Kira's wet sex there was no overt evidence of their play. Kira, half naked beneath the soft woolen blanket, would feign sleep. At other times she would lie there once again exposed and squirming, his hands buried in her flesh, her face flushed with the kind of concentrated, pressurized passion only another submissive could understand.

Desperate, nearly unable to control her body's response, she was rescued by the ding of an overhead bell. A mechanical voice said, "In a few minutes we will be making our final approach to Washington". You may get up and move about the cabin for a few more minutes. Once the seat belt light illuminates please return to your seats for landing."

Kira looked up into Master's eyes. The look was another plea. Let me cum, it said. Finish this. There will be more.

"Yes you may cum," he said. "In the lavatory. Get dressed and take another walk. So they see and feel all this energy you have whipped up here. Cum hard for them there in the back of the airplane. They may not see or hear you, but at some level they'll know." He gently stroked her cheek, smiling at her. His eyes were bright while hers were moist and puffy with potent passion.

"Come back to me--this time without the panties."

Kira found the sleeveless cotton shirt, wrinkled now from all their play, and wrestled with it Houdini-like beneath the blanket. She buttoned the frontpiece and refastened her jeans and belt. Sitting up she smoothed down her hair and folded the coverlet. She was aware of a cool dampness between her legs. Looking down she saw her jeans, soaked through and through, stained dark with her own rich wetness.

She realized what Master's true punishment was meant to be all along. It wasn't to tease her to madness then deny her release. It was to parade this still buzzing sexuality--wet jeans, wrinkled clingy shirt, tousled hair--before all these unsuspecting strangers. No bra, no panties, nipples and wet sex for anyone on the airplane to see. And soon thereafter in the airport... the taxi... the hotel... She would be on display for hours in front of hundreds, in a mental state of near-panic brought on by this hot humming lust she carried. And she knew he was not though with her, her glorious Master. Her champion. Her guide. Yes, she would do it. She would be it. She would be all he and they wanted her to be--the wanton, the misguided innocent, the manhandled servant, the brilliant conversationalist, even the knowing wise tantrika at the height of her high art. Because she had no choice. This fabulous way of living was instinctive for her. There could be no alternative.

Smiling at Master she leaned over to kiss his cheek. She fumbled in her purse for a moment, then stood to once again walk towards the back. This time many attentive eyes strained to see. Ah, Kira, thought. Such power in so simple a thing as pleasure. Another smile came over her face as she paused next to the pretty young woman sitting close behind.

Leaning over enough to allow her breasts to come full into view, she whispered into the woman's delicate porcelain ear.

"Hotel Rouge," she said. "Thomas Circle."

She dropped Master's business card onto her newfound playmate's unsuspecting lap.