Skinning the Cat

He smiled and said, "We'll see."

We lay there side by side till maybe 7:00 or so when he rolled over and asked, "You hungry?"

I told him I was.

He said, "I'm going to step out and buy something. I'll be gone a little while. While I'm gone I want you to be bound up."

I said, "OK." By then I didn't care what he wanted to do to me.

He went back in the back and came out with a small heap of chains, "This will only take a minute," He sorted out what he brought and snapped manacles on my wrists and ankles. The chain connecting my wrists was about six inches long, the one between my ankles was a little longer. He got dressed, gave me a kiss, and said he'd be right back.

As soon as he left I got out of bed and went to the bathroom and to see what I looked like all chained up. I twisted and turned, looking this way and that way. I looked at my vagina and my fanny where he'd cut away all my hair. I touched it and got all trembly.

The chains were silver, probably stainless steel. I shook my hands just to hear them rattle. They were light and more an annoyance than anything. They clinked and clanked every time I moved. I thought it kind of was like I was his captive. I imagined, 'I'm a slave girl waiting for her master,' that made me giggle. I was being silly. I waited in the bedroom a while, got bored, went in the living room, turned on the TV, and watched some stupid game show.

Dillon got back a little after 9:00. He came in asked, "How's my girl?"

I smiled, held up my hands and rattled the chains, "Snug as a bug."

He chortled a little, "I was a little longer. I stopped and got you a little something to wear. Come here."

I hobbled over. He reached in his pocket pulled out a key and unlocked my wrists and ankles. He handed me a box, "Here put this on while I set the table."

Back in the bedroom I opened the box and found a pearl colored set of tailored pajamas. I slipped the top and bottoms on. The top was short sleeved, and the bottom panties came down to just about mid-thigh. The pajamas fit comfortably. I thought even I could look pretty in something like this. I buttoned them up and went to the kitchen where I saw he had everything laid out.

As I sat down before a plate of flounder, red potatoes, and asparagus Dillon leaned across the table, he pulled my head forward and gave me a kiss, "My you look pretty," he said.

I think I believed him. I know I wanted to.

We ate, watched some TV, and around 11:00 we went back to bed. The lovemaking this time was slow and gentle. I had another climax. So did he, but after the one we were both pretty tired. He made me lie with my back to his chest. We cuddled and spooned until we went to sleep.

Later on I recalled that night was the last time I ever saw the chains or the long black scarf. I wondered what with the chains and stuff if I'd passed another test.

Morning came early. Dillon awakened me with a kiss. He said, "On your knees and elbows. This morning we're doing something different."

I did as I was told. I was getting good at that, but that morning I was half afraid he wanted to do my rear end. I didn't want to do that. I was wrong.

He climbed up behind me and, and after some pretty prolonged kissing and licking that got me really wet he slowly slid his thing inside me. It still hurt a little, but I didn't mind because I knew what was going to happen. I knew what this was called. I was a little afraid he might push in too far and hurt me, but even though he got really far, farther even than when he was on top of me, it didn't hurt. I know one thing, the way the head of his thing rubbed back and forth on the top of my vagina sure affected me. I couldn't say exactly what was happening, but it sure was exciting. He had his climax. He must have spewed another gallon of his stuff in me. I loved it! I loved the feeling.

By the time we finished the doggie sex it was close to 11:00 A.M. Dillon got off the bed and said, "Sorry girl, but it's time to take you home."

He got dressed. I put on the dress he'd bought that I'd worn Friday night. As I put it back on I thought how Friday night and dinner had happened almost like a lifetime ago. He walked me to his car, drove me home, walked me to my apartment door, kissed me, and said, "Go grade your papers, and plan your lessons for next week," then it seemed almost like an afterthought he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small red scarf, "You're to wear this around your neck every day. I don't care whatever else you wear you're to wear this. Think of it as your collar; a sign that you belong to me. You understand?"

I held the scarf in my hand. I looked up at him and nodded.

He kissed me first on my lips and then on my forehead. I kissed him right back. As he turned to go he said, "Remember you're still a princess held in a castle tower, and you're mine."

I smiled and mouthed, "I love you."

He smiled back and said, "I know," then he left.

We were all back in school bright and early Monday morning. I wore a simple skirt and blouse set; green skirt, white blouse, and red scarf. The rest of the week was pretty routine. I only sent three boys to the office; a record low for me. I rinsed the scarf every night. By Thursday some of the kids commented on my outfits; the scarf was attracting attention. I had almost no contact with Dillon all week; he'd changed his lunchtime to meet other changes in scheduling. I was preparing to leave Friday afternoon when I noticed an envelope in my mailbox. I opened it and found a note and a key inside. The key was for Dillon's apartment, and the note said to be there when he got home that night. As I left school I noticed his car was still on the lot. I drove straight to his place.

When I got there I opened the place up and went in. On his kitchen table I found another note atop a box. I opened the note and read what Dillon left for me; he instructed me to shave again and put on the contents of the box. I opened the box and found a pretty blue negligee, no handcuffs or chains. I assumed he meant I should shave my vagina so that's what I did, and took a quick shower afterwards. I put on the negligee, went in the living room and waited. I didn't have to wait long.

Dillon got in around 6:00 p.m. He saw me and came immediately to where I was on the sofa. He asked, "Did you clean up?"

I smiled and shook my head yes.

He smiled back and said, "Let me clean up. I'll be back in a minute."

He was back shortly and announced he had something new for me to do. I told him I was ready, and he pointed me toward an easy chair, "Sit on the floor by the chair."

I went over and sat on the floor. He followed and asked, "Do you know what fellatio is?"

I didn't so I told him no.

He told me, "Fellatio is the proper term used to describe a blow job."

I asked him, "You want me to...suck on your thing?"

He laughed, "I want you to make love to my penis." Then he dropped his pants and shorts, sat down on the chair and pointed to his organ, "Start slow. Kiss it first. Then lick it. Caress it with your mouth. Keep your hands on the carpet. The only thing that should touch me is your mouth. Now get started."

I sat back and said, "That's dirty. I don't want to do it."

He didn't smile or bat an eye, "I kissed your vagina last week. I sucked on your labia and nibbled on your clitoris. I even kissed you on the rectum. Was any of that dirty?"

He was right. He'd done all that. I'd even liked it.

I shook my head from side to side, I put my hands on the carpet and looked between his legs. His thing was soft and was hanging down; it didn't look anything like what I'd seen the previous week. Just the same I leaned forward and touched it with the tip of my tongue. "Oh," I said as it moved. I touched it again with my mouth. It was like it had a life of its own. I watched it grow and grow. All I had to do was press my lips against it and it got bigger. In no time it was incredibly big, hard, and sticking way up in the air.

Dillon told me, "Put the head of my penis in your mouth and suck on it."

I really didn't want to, but I remembered all the things he'd done so I went ahead. It didn't get much bigger, but it kept pulsating, and it got a lot warmer. I'm not going to say I enjoyed it very much, but I loved him, I knew I did, and I thought if this pleased him it was a sure sight better than being tied up in scarves but just like that I got another big surprise.

I never thought Dillon could ejaculate so fast, but then I didn't know the effect my lips and mouth might have on him. Every now and then I glanced up at him; he had his eyes closed like he was totally enjoying himself. I thought if he was happy then I was happy too. But then!

Out of nowhere his thing started pulsating like crazy and he was ejaculating semen right in my mouth. I was so surprised I flinched and turned away. His sperm started squirting all over the place. It got in my hair, on my face, and all over the new negligee he'd just bought me. Worse, it spoofed out all over the carpet!

Dillon grabbed me by the hair and forced my mouth back down on his thing. I got the last of it right down my throat. God the stuff tasted terrible, and it smelled like Comet cleanser. It was awful!

But then as fast as it happened it was over. Dillon was sitting back in the chair smiling at me. He took his fingers and started sopping his sperm up off my face. He'd collect a little dab and then put his finger in my mouth. I felt embarrassed and sort of degraded at first, but then I got used to it. I kept telling myself he'd done the same thing for me just a week ago.

Then he got up and said, "Come on let's get you cleaned up. He took my hand and walked me to the bathroom where he got a washcloth and wiped my face clean.

He kept smiling at me. He whispered, "Didn't taste very good did it. I'm sorry I ate some asparagus today. If I'd had some pineapple it would have been different. I made a mistake. I'll make it up to you." When he finished wiping off my face he took his hand and scuffed my hair, "You're a good girl you know that. There's something else on the bedroom bureau for you. Go get it and bring it here."

I went back to the bedroom and checked the bureau. There was a gift box from one of the better jewelry shops in DC. I carried it back to the bathroom.

He took it and held for a second, then he handed it back, "Open it up."

I opened it and inside there was a necklace. It was a mix of some red stones, and what I hoped was small diamonds. He said to give it to him. So I did. He opened the clasp, reached around my neck and fastened it on. My first thought was how quickly he did it. I usually had a terrible time with those tiny clasps, but I thought about the importance of the necklace. Not like the dress or the nightie; this was a real gift!

He helped me up, I'd been kneeling on the floor, and together we looked at it in the mirror.

He put his hands on my shoulders, kissed my neck and whispered, "Next week being Thanksgiving we have a short week. You're to wear this every day instead of the scarf. This is your next week's reminder as to who you belong to," he turned me back around, embraced me, kissed me again, then turned me around again, swatted me on my fanny and said, "Go get in bed," and I did.

He followed me in and climbed in bed beside me, "I'll be a few minutes before I'll be ready to perform again, let's talk. Tell me about yourself, who you are, your childhood, who your parents are."

So I told him how I grew up in a small town just west of Cumberland in western Maryland. I'd gone to public schools. He knew where I went to college so I skipped that part. I told him about my younger brother and sister, my parents. How my dad was a school teacher, and my mom was an RN. I mentioned my grandparents, both sets, and I admitted that before him I'd never had a boyfriend or even gone on any real dates. I think he was surprised at the last part. Then I asked him to tell me his story.

I was surprised how easily he opened up to me; it made me feel like we really had something. He'd grown up in a small town in northern California. He'd played some high school football, but he'd never been very good. He managed to get into most of the games as a linebacker. He'd intercepted a couple passes and caused a few fumbles. His best friend was one of the wide receivers and a real star. He always liked school, and he'd enjoyed college. He'd never joined a fraternity because he had to work, but he had fraternity friends so he got to quite a few of the parties. He said that's where he met his wife. He'd already told me he was divorced.

When I asked him about his first wife, if he wanted to tell me what happened I said I'd be glad to listen.

I was pleasantly surprised when he said he'd tell me. He told me his story.

He said, "I guess I could share a little of it now. Actually there isn't much to tell. I was in college and I met this girl at a party, her name was Sherry Van Norman. She was an education major concentrating on special education. I was an education major too; my target was mathematics. She was very pretty; short blond hair, about 5'4", blue eyes like yours," he poked my nose at that.

"Well," he said, "I fell in love almost right away. I thought she'd fallen in love with me too, at least that was my impression. We dated pretty exclusively from the fall of our senior year until graduation, and in June we got married. It was the classic June wedding; snow white gown, long train, all the families, dozens of friends, seven bride's maids, flower girl, open bar at the reception, you name it.

We both got jobs in the same school district but not at the same school. I was at a high school while she was assigned to elementary. We rented an apartment and settled in to live the dream. The plan was we'd both work for several years, save some money, buy a house, start a family, she'd quit work while the kids were little but start back when they were all school age. It sounded like a great plan to me, but Sherry got a change of heart.

By change of heart I mean she changed course on who she wanted the 'happily ever after' to be with. I didn't know it, but we'd moved to a community not far from where one of her old boyfriends lived. I guess you'd say the rest was a cliche.

I was working hard all day and coaching after school. I was the JV football coach, and in the spring I ended up with the track and field. It felt good to get outside and run and workout with a bunch of healthy kids.

I didn't see the signs until it was way too late. Normally Sherry would get home around 4:00 and start dinner. I'd get home a little after 5:00. We'd eat and talk about our days. But somewhere around the late fall of our second year of marriage she started finding excuses to get home late. At first it was just once in a while, but by January it had grown to twice, even three times a week.

It seemed like she was always tired. I thought she might be sick, and she was irritable, she never wanted to talk anymore, and when it came to making love she started acting real cool. Often as not we didn't make love, and when we did do anything it was like she wanted to hurry up and get it over with. I was growing increasingly concerned.

Then at last it hit me. She must be having an affair. Like all these kinds of things I found out quite by accident. She said she had a late day bunch of conferences. She said the whole faculty at her school had to be there. I believed her. It was winter, and since I figured she'd be late anyway I'd stay and watch one of our school's basketball games. I never especially liked basketball, but there were a couple kids on the team I wanted to support.

There I was sitting in the bleachers when a teacher colleague from my school showed up with his wife. I wondered what his wife was doing at the game since she worked at the same school as Sherry.

I went down to where they were and asked if her school's conferences were already finished. When I brought it up I could tell she didn't know what I was talking about. Then I told her what Sherry had told me. She said they seldom if ever had after-school sessions like that. That's when I told her Sherry had been staying late almost every week for late conferences and such. My friend's wife told me that wasn't true.

I didn't know what to think, but I knew I couldn't stay and watch any more of the game. I grabbed my coat, left and went home. However I didn't just go home. I got in my car and started driving around. We lived in a small town. All the motels were out on the Interstate I found her car parked behind the Holiday Inn. I guess that sort of said it all.

I pulled in near her car and decided to wait. I didn't have to wait long. She came out through one of the side entrances, but she didn't come out alone. She came out with a man.

Now you be reminded Elizabeth I'm not someone who takes things lying down, and I'm not a big schemer. No I wasn't looking for any pictures or trash like that. I just got out of my car and stepped in front of the two of them.

To say the least Sherry was stunned. She tried to lie, 'Oh Dillon this is Tom. Our meetings were over and we stopped here to go over some paperwork. We've been in the restaurant comparing notes.' I tried to stay calm. I told her I'd been talking to a colleague of hers who told me there hadn't been any meetings, and that all the meetings you'd been telling me about were bogus.

That's when the guy with her stepped forward. He held up his hands and said something like, 'See here this isn't.'

I didn't say anything. I wanted to haul off and cork him. I didn't. I just walked away.

I got in my car and drove back to our apartment. I was just about finished packing when she got home. She started crying and begging me to listen while she explained what had happened.

OK, I agreed. I sat down and listened. It was like I thought. He was an old boyfriend and they'd been catching up; that's why she was late. She said she hadn't told me about him because she was afraid I wouldn't understand. I told her she was wrong; I did understand, and that I hoped she and her 'old boyfriend' would be happy. I never bothered trying to get her to see how she hadn't explained all her other latenesses, and I didn't get into the other problems. I was too upset. I knew too much.

I finished packing, found a seedy motel and moved away. I took a couple days off after that, found a lawyer, and worked out the divorce. Since we hadn't been married long and we both worked and made almost the same money the separation went pretty smooth. Then things got more complicated.

Sherry said she was sorry and didn't want a divorce. It was a classic, but sad situation. The old boyfriend was the arch-typical high school boy upscale girls like Sherry liked to date. Yeah, he'd been one of the high school troublemakers, a junkie and a dealer who ended up dropping out. Sherry would have been a great meal ticket for him, but she was just interested in the excitement of the illicit sex and the thrill of recapturing some of her high school years. She'd liked playing with her old boyfriend, and stupidly figured I'd never find out. But I had found out. I also found out he was more than willing to marry her, but he wasn't someone she wanted to stay with.

We were forced to go to several counseling session, but I was adamant. I made it perfectly clear I needed someone I knew I could trust, and there wasn't anything Sherry could ever say or do that would win that trust back.

Oh she cried quite a bit. Her parents tried to talk me into forgiving her, but I think they were more upset about all the money they'd pissed away on her wedding. I got a visit from her brother and some of his friends who wanted to scare me back to her, but that didn't work. My parents were broken hearted. They had three sons. I was the first to get married, and they thought they'd found the daughter they'd never been given.