The Cabin Ch. 01

Preface, Prelude and Arrival

My wife Annie and I had been gradually getting into BDSM play, switching with both topping on occasion. She was a little reluctant to top me - societal hang-ups made it hard, but she went along because she knew I got a kick out of it. I thought she was slowly warming to the idea, and maybe beginning to like it. That was an understatement, and this is the story of what happened when she threw herself into the Dominatrix role I had always hoped she’d take.

Everything here is recounted to the best of my ability, and this is a faithful chronicle of the just past year of our life. Some events are written exactly as they happened, including the dialog, as I had video tapes to refer to for many of the more intense moments. Other events are recounted based on diary entries Annie or I made the day of the event. Still others are reconstructed from memory and though the narrative of this last category includes a certain amount of fabrication to flesh out the details (such as the dialog), the fabrication is limited to minor items only - all of the major events are presented here in fundamentally the same manner in which they actually happened, and the fabricated details are all within the spirit of the event. This is a true chronicle. It is also a wonderful chronicle, the story of a man’s sexual fantasies coming true on a scale that makes me truly grateful.

Names have been changed where necessary to protect the privacy of everyone involved. The scenes described are as they played out. Some of the things we did during our first year of heavy play were not, in hindsight, entirely safe. Although we’ve been fairly rational and sane, as we’ve grown more experienced, and as we’ve researched more about BDSM, we’ve learned. Learned that we should have taken more safety precautions for some of the things we did, waited until we were more experienced for other things, and flat out shouldn’t have done a few things that were far more dangerous than we realized. But we’ve been lucky and haven’t had any catastrophes. If anything you read here is exciting enough for you to want to try it yourself, don’t rely on luck. Learn the right way to play first. The best toy in anyone’s toy box is their sub. Don’t break it!

I hope there are many chapters to this story yet to come. Those chapters will, of course, be dedicated to the same fantastic woman that these opening chapters are dedicated.

To Annie, my Love. My Domme.

* * * * *

Prelude

Annie and I met at a Bay Area dotcom. Both of us got in early and fresh out of college. Those were some heady days. By the time the bubble burst, we were both rich, burned out, and not quite thirty. We’d been dating for a couple of years when the doors closed and we said goodbye to our friends. We hung on to each other though and decided to get married. We had enough money from our stock options that we really didn’t need to work again unless we wanted to, and at that point, neither of us wanted to.

A year before, I’d started planning for “retirement” by buying a cabin several hours north, back in the woods off highway 30. The cabin was four rooms, maybe a thousand square feet, and sat on 40 acres of heavily forested land. It was about half a mile from the nearest road, and about 30 miles from the nearest town. All in all, it was very private, and I envisioned spending summers at the cabin, fixing it up, gardening, and just enjoying myself. I’ve gotten to do all of that, but not quite in the way I imagined.

We got married in April, and Annie said she wanted to spend the summer up at the cabin. It was still in pretty rough shape. The roof didn’t leak and the well and septic system were fine, but the place was dusty and the grounds completely overgrown. Nobody had lived there for a couple of years while it was on the market, and the real estate agent had to swing by twice a month to chase the critters out. She said we’d spend the summer fixing it up, kind of roughing it. I thought it was a great idea and agreed.

It took us a couple of months to wrap things up in The City, but we told our friends we were going to be up in the hills for the summer, and they all envied us. During those months, we took two trips up to the cabin to get it ready, and Annie took a third trip while I finished the last of the consulting duties I had with the guys who owned the last of the company. She said she was just putting a few last minute touches on the place. Little did I know what she meant by that.

On our last night in SF before heading up to the cabin, Annie playfully told me that maybe we try some bondage play at the cabin. I’d been hinting to her that I’d like to do more slave play with her as my Domme, and she said she thought maybe at the cabin, away from society and all, she might get into it more. I was all for that, and looked forward to some fun. We took off early the next morning for the long drive to the cabin.

* * * * *

Arrival and Pronouncements

It was late afternoon when I finally pulled off the road and into the driveway. The property has a locked gate at the road, so I had to stop to get the key to the padlock. I asked Annie where it was and she said it was in the back. We both got out and walked around to the back of the Durango. She popped open the door, reached in a grabbed a duffel bag.

“Strip,” she said.

“What?” I answered, surprised.

“You heard me, strip.” She had a grin on her face. She held out the bag. “Strip and put your clothes in here. You said you wanted to be my slave, so that’s what’s going on. If you really want it, get naked.”

So right there in the driveway, in sight of the road, I stripped naked, putting my clothes in the bag. By the time I had them all off, I had a pretty good hard on going. Annie took the duffel bag from me, zipped it shut, and tossed it in the back of the Durango. She took some leather cuffs from another bag (I remember seeing a bunch of toys in there) and cuffed my hands together in front, then cuffed my ankles together with about two feet of chain between them.

She handed me the gate key and told me to go unlock it. As I shuffled along, hobbled by the ankle cuffs, she closed the hatch and jumped in the driver’s seat of the Durango. I unlocked the gate and swung it open. She drove past, but instead of stopping to pick me up after clearing the gate, she just kept on going up the driveway, leaving me there naked and cuffed at the edge of the road.

My pulse was racing by now and thinking wasn’t easy, but I figured she must want me to close the gate and follow. So I locked the gate back up, and set off shuffling up the half-mile long gravel driveway, rocks digging into the soles of my bare feet all the way.

It was slow going, taking such short steps and not wanting to fall down. By the time I got to the cabin, Annie was sitting on the front porch with a drink in her hand and an impatient expression on her face. I had the proverbial raging hard-on by now, and it bobbed in front of me as I hobbled up to the front steps. She got up and came down the steps to help me climb them without falling, taking the gate key from me. Once on the porch, she let me to a spot where a shiny new eyebolt was screwed into a roof beam. She must have put it there when she came up by herself the week before. She attached a chain to my hands and hooked it to the eyebolt so I was standing on tip-toe, arms fixed above my head.

“It took you fifteen minutes to make it up here,” she said. “So you’ll get fifteen swats to teach you to hurry.” Before I could say anything (I hadn’t spoken to her since she ordered me to strip down by the road), she began laying into my ass with a leather riding crop she’d used on me a few times before, but never with this much enthusiasm. She told me to count, and I did. When she’d finished all fifteen, she asked me if I understood the lesson.

“Yes, Mistress,” I said. “Don’t be slow.”

“Good,” she said, releasing the cuffs. “Now apply that lesson while you unload the car. Put all the bags in the bedroom.” I immediately ran to the car and began pulling bags out, shuttling them to the bedroom. I noticed Annie moving cuffs and chains around on the porch, and by the time I was done, the leather wrist cuffs dangled from two eyehooks about six feet apart. The ankle cuffs were hooked to the floorboards an equal distance apart. She motioned me to the cuffs and I stood eagerly still as she rechained me on the porch, spread eagle this time. I was facing outward from the house, looking across the courtyard and circular drive towards the overgrown gardens and the thick woods beyond.

The porch was on the north side of the house, and the early evening shade was beginning to get cool. My cock, as hard as I could ever remember it being before then, bobbed in the cool air in front of me.

“It took you seven minutes to unload,” she said from behind me. “So you’ll get seven more whacks.” My ass was a little sore, but I was excited about another round of spankings. Only it wasn’t my ass that was her target! Without another word, she brought the leather tip of the crop up hard against the underside of my cock. My cock bounced off my stomach and returned to its vulnerable position straight out in front of my bound body. Another smack of the crop and it bounced off my stomach again. I began to feel a warm stinging sensation along the bottom of my shaft, and if anything, I got even harder.

“You didn’t count,” she reminded me. “So we have to start over. This next one will be number one.” Another smack and bounce, and the warm feeling spread slightly.

“One,” I said, my breath a little ragged, more from excitement than pain I think.

“Two,” as the next blow slammed into my cock.

“Three.” The blows were getting harder.

“Four.” So was my cock.

“Five.” I felt like the shaft was on fire.

“Six.” My voice broke a little.

“Last one coming up,” she said, holding the crop against the bottom of my cock. I looked down and saw my cock throbbing and twitching. She drew the crop away and I watched it sweep back, then forward and upwards in a blur. The crop made a crisp, sharp sound as it smacked the bottom of my cock. My cock made a fleshier noise as it smacked into my stomach one more time, then bobbed about as I whispered “Seven.”

Annie had given me cock whippings before with that same crop, but never quite this hard, and never with me bound as I was. The feeling, not just in my cock (which had become so sensitive the breeze blowing across it made it twitch), but in my entire body, was intense, overpowering. Annie bent over and took my cock in her mouth, holding her tongue against the reddened underside. I didn’t know this at the time, but she was trying to figure out if she could feel any increased heat. Before I enjoyed much of this attention though, she pulled her silken mouth off of me, raking her lower teeth along the bottom of my shaft as she did.

“I’ll be back in a little while, Love,” she said, kissing me on the back of my shoulder. “You just relax and enjoy the view. Think about what being a slave will mean.” With a pat on my ass, she disappeared inside, leaving me nude and standing spread eagle on our porch. I looked out at the courtyard, watching the evening shadows crawl away from me, towards the trees behind the greenhouse and garden shed. It was mid June, and the evening cooled quickly. I remember wondering about mosquitoes.

I could hear Annie moving around in the house behind me. Pots banged and water ran. My cock twitched less and less, and gradually the warm sting subsided. I thought about this turn of events, and my heart raced with anticipation for the rest of the evening. There were lots of other toys in that bag. I wondered how much Annie had planned for tonight. I was absolutely certain I would enjoy it, whatever it was and however much it was. The cock whipping had been intense, but standing there bare to the evening breeze, I was sure I could have taken several more. I wondered if Annie had anything planned for beyond tonight. Maybe a weekend? However much she had in mind, I made up my own mind to play along 110%. I realized this was an amazing chance to fulfill a fantasy, and that if I wanted more of it in the future, I would need to do my part to make this scene work.

(to be continued)