Sanctuary Pt. 01: Aubrey Ch. 03

I tried and failed to look at him and only managed an embarrassed garbled giggle that turned into a gasp as a line of drool fell from my lip. I tried my best to stop and even swallowing didn't seem to help. Harold pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed my chin.

"cute,' he said.

I looked at him in disbelief.

"You are, trust me."

There are times in your life where you take a mental step back and evaluate your place in life. I found out that kneeling in front of someone, bound and gagged drooling on their shoes helplessly was oddly one of those times. I looked up into Harold's eyes and realized that I was exactly where I wanted to be. The embarrassment I felt was not a deterrent but a spice that elevated my excitement.

Shortly after a blindfold was added to my ensemble and I knelt there in the darkness. Harold began to work, the sound of his typing was an oddly comforting sound reminding me that he was right there beside me. Now and then he would call someone discussing sort of real estate project and would reach down and stroke my hair idly from time to time.

I was not sure how much time had passed, but I felt his arms wrap around me and pick me up only to set me on his lap. "I think we need to talk," he said, removing the blindfold.

I blinked and looked up into his eyes before my gaze settled on his desk. There were literal stacks of papers and folders covering its surface. On his screen was a rendered photo of an Island. He wrapped an arm around me and secured me to his chest, tapping the screen with his other hand.

I looked at it, it seemed rather bare despite being picturesque.

"Right now it is just a baby called Wake Island. The land is currently being built up and expanded, the lagoon enclosed with its own beach. It is actually a set of several small islands that will be joined together."

Harold clicked an icon and brought up another image, it showed a bustling island with hotels and shopping and sunbathers.

"This is how we expect it to roughly look when completed.", Harold said. "It is predicted to be another year for the earthwork and another two for build out and facilities. It will have the latest and greatest solar and desalination technology available to date. This added with our vertical farm technology will make the island self-supporting."

His hand slid up along my cheek, and without thinking, I drew his finger into my mouth and suckled it as best I could with the gag's restriction. I had no idea what had come over me, but Harold responded by unbuttoning the top of my pajamas and lightly stroked my nipple with his thumb. I moaned quietly and met his eyes.

"This island is a safe place for people like us to be like this. Its new name Sanctuary is a testament to this. Everyone acknowledges the railroading political correctness that has eroded our society. The US government is providing this island and endorsing our petition for self-rule as a means to conduct an enormous social experiment. This endorsement has brought other countries to participate as well. When our declaration is signed and witnessed by allied nations, we will be able to rule ourselves by the ideals we hold. Think of it as BDSM themed Hawaii."

I stared at him silently. He had stopped the teasing touch and looked at me now with a gleam in his eyes.

"I would very much like to have you right here by my side through this journey. I can't imagine now seeing this through without you. You have inspired me and given me insight on how to take care of the people who will call this island home. Would you do this with me? It will be tremendous work, but I promise the rewards for all, will be worth it."

He unbuckled the gag and smiled at me. "Will you do this with me?" He asked softly. He cradled my body up against him effortlessly.

"As an office wench, I don't think I can say no to such an offer can I?"

Harold shook his head. "No, I was thinking of promoting you to princess if you say yes."

I smiled up at him. Of course, I would say yes. What else would I have done? My whole world revolved him. My thoughts always turned to him whenever they had a chance. I curled up in his arms, my wrists still bound behind me and laid my cheek against his chest. My heart raced wildly in my tightening chest. Dammit, I thought to myself. I loved him. I loved Harold, and I knew I would follow him until the ends of the earth.

"I can't imagine being anywhere where you aren't," I said. "I don't want to be anywhere else but by your side, and... in your lap. I will happily support you with all my heart and anything else I can give. "

He leaned down and kissed me softly once on the cheek. I wanted to have him press his mouth down over mine, but he didn't. I felt his lips brush my cheek as his whispered breath spilled warm and sweet across my skin.

"Thank you, princess," he whispered.

***

I sat in the office at Harold's desk, carefully organizing papers submitted by vendors who were applying for rights to sell their wares on the island.

"A pulse of music rose from the silence and all but snaked its way into the room. Powerful and rich. I lifted my head and felt it call to me. I had recognized it, Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, and as I drank down its mournful melody into my soul, I silently slipped to my feet and stalked it through the house.

I followed the music down the hall. My tip-toed footsteps seemed to obey the tempo of the stroke of piano keys as if they guided my movements. I turned the corner and was stunned to find Teddy there at the piano. The haunting melody flowed over me like dark velvet as if I could feel it caress my skin with each note. It held me and drew a shiver up along my spine leaving me frozen in place, my eyes fixated upon. His fingers more than begged and coaxed the notes, but conjured them into the air like ghosts, graceful but with a whisper of desperation raising goosebumps. Heavy, melancholy notes reverberated in my chest and squeezed my heart with emotion.

As the last notes died upon the air, I felt the void they left behind, as if a substance, a flavor to the world around me was now missing. I looked down at Teddy. I had crossed the room without consciously realizing it and had gone to his side. His brown eyes met mine, and his gaze flickered to the tear wrenched free by his passionate playing. I could not wipe it away, for of all the tears I had shed, it was not a tear I was ashamed of.

There was silence there between us. Neither of us seemed able to speak. Teddy sat there in ratty jeans and an old t-shirt, his bare feet resting on the piano's pedals. He just kept staring at the keys that lay before him. At that moment, he suddenly seemed so very real. As if some mask or disguise has been removed.

I hated the silence. I had been moved heart and soul by his music but could not make myself to speak or reach out to the boy at the piano. I sat there beside him in that shallow blanket of silence, the ache stroked by the music still lingering deep in my chest leaving me feeling somehow sad. We sat there together for a stretched moment, neither speaking. With mercy, his fingers stroked the keys drawing a bittersweet song from them. The notes gently rose and fell like a breath or a sigh. I watched his hands, and the elegant grace they contained. I saw him close his eyes lost in the labyrinth of harmony.

This was the real Teddy, one of song and depth. This was his voice, and I heard him. I heard sorrow, and grief released into the air around me. I felt the longing and loneliness stroked from the keys. I did not know the song, but I knew its story well. I looked at him, my throat tight, eyes misted and saw the beauty in the boy. The boy was speaking to me now through the emotion of the song, and I heard him. With all of the words in the world, I could not find the right ones to say at that moment. I conceded to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. To my surprise, he slipped his arms around my middle, and we shared a quiet moment of comforting between us.

***

[ 45 days later ]

I knocked on the large ornate door.

"Come in," Harold called from the other side.

I entered and shut the door behind me. Harold was sitting at his desk sifting through some paperwork. He smiled warmly at me a hand held out, and I moved across the room and around to take it. He scooted back his chair and positioned me between him and his desk looking me over. I had been wearing a simple yellow flowered sundress and white sandals with a string of cultured pearls around my throat.

"You look beautiful," he said. "And are a much-wanted distraction from all this paperwork. I am afraid that I still have work that I have to finish tonight."

I had started to move."I'm sorry I don't want to keep you any later than you n-"

He shook his head and placed his hands gently on my mine. "Stay. I need a break, and I wanted to check on you. How are you feeling? Are you still hurting?"

"It doesn't hurt much anymore, but it did leave a scar though."

Harold's face filled with sadness that made my chest tighten. "Please show me?" he asked, looking up into my eyes.

My hands went down and gathered up the hem of the dress, and paused for just a moment. I didn't stop because I would be exposing myself to Harold. He had seen everything already. No, I hesitated because I did not want to see Harold upset. I wanted him to keep his smile. However, when I looked into his eyes, the blue eyes now filled with worry and guilt, I could not deny him. I exhaled my breath and drew the dress up along my body and held it flush against my chest.

Harold placed his hands gently on my hips and slipped his fingers into the top of the simple, white cotton panties I was wearing. He took a moment before he began to draw them down to my thighs. His movements were slow, too slow as if he was afraid he would hurt me. I didn't say anything. It seemed he was bracing himself.

I leaned back against Harold's desk, the panties shifted and fell to the floor around my ankles. It didn't seem to matter at the time, and I merely stepped out of them as Harold reached out to me. His hand cupped me between my legs as he carefully lifted, positioned, and repositioned, examining the ugly scar encircling me. The teasingly light touch and the warmth of his hands made me ache, but only inside. Even this manipulation could not harden my desires.

He examined me thoroughly, leaning in and bringing his face closer to my lap. Each inch he drew closer caused my pulse to quicken in equal measures. He bent down and placed a kiss on the scar, just above the top of the base of my cock. In that instant, the whole world shrank down to the space between him and I. He laid his cheek low against my tummy, his breath warm on my skin.

"I am sorry Aubrey," he said in a low, soft voice. "I am sorry I did not prevent this from happening to you."

I bit my lower lip and ran my fingers through his hair. His heartfelt words caused my breath to catch for a moment, and I had to swallow the tightness in my throat before I could speak.

"I don't blame you," I said stroking his hair. "If anything, I owe you so much for all you have done for me. I am beyond grateful. This problem may or may not be permanent, but I am still hopeful. It's just frustration now. It is not like I have had a tremendous romantic sex life before, but it does put a damper on 'private alone' time."

"Masturbation hasn't worked?" he asked.

I shook my head and felt my cheeks grow hot. "No," I said quietly. "The drive and desire are there, but I just can't find a release."

Harold sat up and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a small box. Opening it revealed a gold cock ring and a tiny key. "I took your measurements from the fitting and had this made," he said. "It was intended to be given to you to wear for the last trial, but after everything, as you can imagine, I decided against it. You could still use it to cover up the scar though if you wished. Do you want to see if it helps?"

I looked at the ring in his hand. The situation seemed a bit ironic, but I trusted Harold. Even though I might be a little hesitant about having anything else wrapped around my cock and balls, I thought it would be fitting to let Harold do this. Maybe it would give him a tiny amount of closure. I nodded to him that I was all right with it.

Harold opened the hidden hinge in the ring. I was impressed having looked at it carefully and not been able to detect the joint in the metal. Taking great care to position the ring in place correctly, I smiled as a funny thought popped into my mind.

"Aren't you supposed to get down on one knee when you put on a ring?" I said grinning.

Harold laughed and clicked the ring shut and began to tighten the tiny lock with the equally small decorative hex key. "To be fair, I think when it comes to rings like these it's the submissive that kneels. Since we are not at that place right now, why don't we call it a draw? Does it feel all right?"

I shifted my hips around and fiddled with the ring, it didn't pinch, press, or cause any pain, but I noticed, it wasn't going anywhere either. I looked down at the ring locked in place; it covered up the scar completely. "It's a perfect fit," I admitted. "And it's not cold at all. Do you think it will pass for a halo?"

"Gold warms nicely with body heat. I am glad Guthrie did a good job," he said. Harold picked up the tiny key and placed it in my hand. "I would not lose that 'halo' key if I were you, angel," he said in a teasing tone. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," I said and squirmed slightly and looked at the key in my hand.

Harold smiled and in an endearing move, stroked my cheek. "I am sorry sweetheart; to me, you are in every which way a woman because I have no idea what you're thinking," he said tongue-in-cheek.

I smiled at that. "It is hard to say everything I am thinking. I am embarrassed and sharing personal thoughts is hard, especially out loud. It's silly I know."

He nodded, "Can we promise each other that we will be completely honest and open with each other? Do you want to wear it? You have no obligation-"

"I-I like it. It's just that the ring feels different," I said quickly. "Different depending on who is holding the key."

Harold looked at me and listened. I felt compelled to fill the space with more words.

"When you put it on and had the key, I felt..." I struggled for the word. "Connected. So then, when you gave the key to me, it felt that part of the connection if not lost, was different. That little ping in my stomach of having to trust in you went away."

The truth and words kept spilling out of my mouth. "I went from excitement and fear to feeling something was missing in a matter of seconds," I sighed. "I know it doesn't make sense."

"It does," he said. "I sense you have a desire and a need. You haven't even realized you have not covered yourself with your dress again yet."

Harold was right. Why hadn't I thought to recover myself after he requested that I bare myself to him to examine me? Was I waiting for him to tell me to cover? Like, getting his permission? Was I more comfortable with him than I wanted to admit?

I looked down at the key in my hand once more. I felt Harold's hand slowly wrapping around my wrist. Reaching around my waist with his other arm, He pulled me onto his lap. I found myself straddling his lap and staring into his blue eyes.

He held out his hand, palm up. "If you wish to keep the key. Please keep it. If you want for me to guard and protect your key for you, I will. However, for the time being, I will only give it back at my discretion, or you give your safeword."

Just the thought of being locked in this ring by him made me ache more. No. That is not completely honest. Somewhere deep inside I wanted it to be a matter of being locked up 'for' him.

I slowly placed the key in his hand, my gaze focused on his eyes instead of the awaiting palm. He never took his eyes off me as he deposited the key into his shirt pocket.

"Thank you," I all but whispered to him.

From beneath me, I felt him harden. I looked at him with wide eyes and could feel my cheeks burning crimson.

Harold smiled. "This is my honesty. I can not hide it. I am not ashamed of it. I find you beautiful, and I find that when you are not with me something is missing from me as well."

I leaned my forehead against his chest. "I ache..."

He ran his hands over my skin drawing the straps of the dress down my shoulders until the dress was a puddle of fabric around my hips. I didn't move other than to place my hands on his chest. I felt his lips brush over my shoulder and neck like velvet. "Let me try to take the ache away," he whispered against my skin.

He shifted, and I heard the desk drawer open, no doubt he was retrieving one of the lube samples. Wrapping his arm tightly around my hips, he all but lifted me up against his chest. I could feel him fiddling with his pants and the lube applicator, and it made my pulse race faster. After a moment he unceremoniously tossed the discarded sample tube over his shoulder drawing a laugh from me.

His arm around my hips was like iron and held me perfectly still while he lined up against my opening. My breath caught in my throat, and I could not help but tense up. It was my first time. Is it going to hurt? Am I going to do this?

My mind raced, and my thoughts run wild, doubt and fear slowly crept in.

"Relax... breath," he whispered, lips brushing my ear.

Those words echoed back from the first time I arrived. I drew a large breath and tried to relax and look at Harold's chest. His hand slid lightly across my cheek and under my chin, guiding my gaze up into his blue eyes. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I draped my arms around his shoulders. He let go of my chin and slid his hand down along my back pressing my chest and belly up against him, my back slightly arched.

He smiled at me. A deep vibrant smile before leaning in and brushed his lips against mine. It was a sweet, tender kiss, one that caught me off guard. I have seen men kissing in videos online before, but they were nothing like this. Those kisses seemed crude to this one. This kiss sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

My fears and reservations seemed to melt away, and before I realized it, I had met his embrace entirely with my own, deepening the kiss. His tongue explored my mouth. The more in-depth his tongue probed, so did Harold's hard passion below. My head spun dizzily with the sensation. He was gentle and slow but seemed to be consuming me entirely. I sucked his tongue and drew it into my mouth in invitation.

Harold broke the kiss first and leaned back, looking at me. "Still ok?" he asked. "Doesn't hurt?"

"I feel very very full, but it doesn't hurt. I-I didn't expect it to feel this way," I admitted. "I thought it would be more...sensitive?"

Harold smiled. "This is your first time right? I was afraid of it hurting and used the lube with the desensitizing agent in it, just in case. Do you want to continue?"

"Yes," I said kissing him. I couldn't back down now. If I stopped, I would be in agony. I all but writhed on Harold's lap and looked up at him with a look I knew was needy. He must have understood my need because I felt his pulse throb and quiver inside me making he hold my breath and fight not to break my gaze. Harold was very good at leaving me bare and vulnerable and right now, I felt every inch of both.

His arm tightened slightly around my waist as he slowly spread his thighs, drawing my legs apart as well. I felt his length gradually slipping outward until his tip hit a spot that made me gasp aloud. Harold Stopped.

In his arms, He held me in place. His hips flexed, and he pressed forward against the sensitive area of my prostate or the 'p-spot' before slowly withdrawing. He repeated this in a slow rhythmic tempo.