Through the Ages

In my periphery, I could see Jimi and the female Domme doing lines of cocaine from her own sub's rear and lower back. Every now and then, the woman would place one of her heeled feet on to the girls back and grind down. I could tell by the way the girl swayed her back under the pressure of the point. The other two males were standing by the bar smoking and talking. It's strange but being ignored or not used by anyone upset me."

"Why?"

"What good was I if I was not serving a purpose, a Master, so to say? And maybe, just maybe, I was a little jealous, especially when one of the other Sirs moved over to her as well." I place a finger to my lips in thought and look out the window at the blue skies. "I was there on my hands and knees staring at the carpet trying to ignore the scene that was happening right across from me. You see, they were progressing, the four of them. The man was sitting in the chair, the girl, um, servicing him as she was bent forward. Jimi was administering smacks to her bare bottom and thighs. The woman, Domme, was engaged with the man in the chair, passionately kissing as he tweaked her naked nipples. It excited me and wounded me simultaneously."

"So, you had to sit there and watch? Not do anything? How could you stand it that your fiancé was doing that in front of you?" Akiyo seems appalled.

"It didn't bother me as much as you think to see Jimi with them...It was the fact that I wasn't needed or used. I felt inadequate at the moment, as though I had failed in my position. So, I remained in my stance trying to ignore the exhibition I was excluded from. I remember looking intently at the floor counting strands of brown carpet as a diversion until the tips of two shiny black shoes obstructed my chore. One leather toe tapped under my chin directing me to raise my head. That's when I saw him for the first time. He tapped my cheek with the same foot, a clear signal to open my mouth. He then flicked the growing ash from his cigarette into my mouth. I did not flinch and kept my mouth agape until he tapped my cheek again. The ash was cool once it had hit my tongue, but the dirty, smoky taste," I scrunch my face, "I could have done without." I chuckle. Akiyo is speechless. "He sat in the chair beside me, pulling the fine chain between my wrists guiding me to crawl closer to the front of the chair. With a finger he tilted my chin to raise my face up, allowing me to look at him. That touch was electric. He was stunning, and in my opinion, far more handsome than Jimi. He had hair as black as ink. His features were chiseled, yet not a smooth beauty. How would I say? He is what I always pictured a man's man to look like, the epitome of masculinity." I sigh at the remembrance of him, his touch, chills still raising across my body at the thought of him. "He told me that his name was Rodney, and that he had arranged to have me as his toy for that evening. His voice was smooth, carnal, and had an unusual accent that I couldn't place. I made a quiet comment about his accent, that I loved it. That's when he told me that he was from Toronto, a Canadian. I had never heard such a sensual voice before, accent aside."

Akiyo makes a soft, almost dreamy comment, "Oh, men with accents are so sexy."

"Yes, they are," my grin is involuntary. "As he spoke, I watched the end of his cigarette grow orange, gray, and opened my mouth to play his human ashtray. When his smoke was close to the end, he held it between two fingers, tipped it toward me and slanted his head in question. I nodded to which he placed the burning butt to my shoulder, not grinding or extinguishing it completely, just a quick poke."

Akiyo cups her mouth to stifle a gasp.

"I won't lie to you. It hurt, but I restrained my reaction, staring into his forest green eyes and only allowing myself to inhale sharply, audibly. Then again, it was that type of hurt that I so relished." I absentmindedly rub the ghost spot on my shoulder.

"This seemed to please him greatly. I could see the ever so slight squint of a smile in his eyes, and it gave me goosebumps. Suddenly, everything else in that room disappeared. I was fixated purely on Rodney. He fingered a cube of ice from his glass and placed it on the sting, even though there was nothing really there. The gesture...tender, caring. My stomach twirled, and my heart leapt with sensations of volatile emotion." I bite my lip, "Jimi was not the affectionate type, although I did not realize how hard-hearted until later. The consideration that Rodney showed that night was not lost on me.

But back to the story, I knew that I would be used hard that night. I was sure that Jimi clued everyone in that pain was not an issue for me. I rather enjoyed it, honestly.

Rodney lit another cigarette. The plume of gray swirling in the air around him. I thought that I would be nothing but a human receptacle for the rest of the evening. So, I once again opened my mouth to him. Instead of flicking his embers into my mouth, Rodney placed two fingers onto my tongue in the middle of my unlocked teeth. Taking that as an invitation, I drew them in, closing my lips around his digits, swirling my tongue around him to exhibit my oral talents, thinking that was what he may want.

He was not interested in that though. Instead, Rodney hooked those fingers into my cheek, lifting upward. I rose up onto my knees. Those hard leather shoes, tapped between my knees coaxing me to spread them wider, and I did. Now, remember he was still seated in that huge chair, and he leaned forward a bit placing the hand that was in my mouth between my legs.

I was unmistakably stimulated already, my arousal clearly visible on his fingers. He continued to leisurely puff on his smoke, continuing the same pace between my legs. I tried to remain aloof, however the slippery friction of his dexterous attentions caused me to sigh. He had me so ready for anything he wanted to do to me. When I my lids shut, I felt the nip of the orange ember right on my breast. I opened my eyes to lock into his emerald spheres, his fingers never ceasing their magic down below.

Our gaze never wavered though I could see him raise the white cylinder to his lips again, and the orange glow ignite once more. Again the tip bit another spot nearer my erect nipple. I began to moan and slightly squirm, not trying to escape, you see, but begging for him to continue. Between the quick jabs of red-hot tinges and the constant fondling of that little magic spot, well, I knew I was headed for an explosion of pleasure." Evoking the memory, I can feel the singe, and my chest clamps as I think of the way I felt lost in his eyes and longed for his touch. Even now, I still tingle. "My quick, heavy gasps and sighs made Rodney lean close to my ear. 'Little one, do you want to cum?' I could barely whisper out a yes to him; I was so engrossed in the sensations. His lips were brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered more, 'You will, but only if you take the fire on the very tip of those beautiful, hard, pink nipples while I still rub your hot, wet pussy. Can you do that?' Until that point he had only danced around that sensitive area with the cigarette, never directly touching it. It never even crossed my mind to say no, but I sat a moment too soon thinking about what it may feel like because Rodney began to withdraw. I panicked as his hands were leaving and blurted, 'Yes, please, Sir, please, do it!' His fingers resumed their work in my slick folds, his tongue licked the area right below my earlobe, and I felt the first swift bite directly to my pointed nipple. I bit my lip to keep the whimper in. Then, another rapid snap to the other side. With that little assault, I clenched around his fingers and my body shuddered. Even as I quaked lost in this phenomenal orgasm, I felt him bathe each stinging nipple with his wet mouth, soothing, sucking them.

Still, he was not done with me after I came down from that high he had given me. Rodney grabbed my hair, which was pulled to a ponytail on top of my head, and twisted it around his hand. He used my hair to pull me to standing as he stood as well. With a jerk, he yanked me forward over the arm of the chair, my bottom now pointing toward the ceiling. When I heard the crack, I knew what was coming next."

I answer Akiyo's nonverbal but obvious inquiry. "Surely, you've heard someone take a belt, fold it in half and quickly pull? The cracking sound it makes?" She nods, "Well, from that noise alone, I understood that a whipping was about to occur. It's funny. There is this anxiety of the first strike. One can almost psych themselves out from mulling over it too long, especially when the Master is snaking the leather down your backbone, under your cheeks, over the back of your thighs. Not knowing where or when or how hard the strike will be, it's mentally more excruciating than the lick of the leather. Once that first lash hits, though, the scorching heat, rhythmic pulsing of skin, the dull ache once the bite subsides is simply," I breathe, "glorious." Even now, I sense stirrings down below from the memory of Rodney's belt. "Rodney tested me that evening for sure. He switched between wallops with the folded leather and cracks from further away with the full length of the strap, the tip biting, burning." I close my eyes, reliving the sensations. "My hisses inhaling on each thwack bit by bit altered to whimpers. While there was agony, that torment was mixed, no added, to the carnal cravings. The intensity of both feelings, pleasure and pain, heightened my sensitivity. I promise if he had even placed one finger near my cleft, I would have exploded immediately," I titter. Akiyo grins, though she still seems dumbfounded.

"Interspersing the whipping, Rodney would yank my hair, contorting my body back to whisper in my ear, 'You love this don't you, you filthy, depraved whore?' The words...you would think that they would make me want to push him away, fight him off, but they only made me want him more. Once I could barely moan or answer verbally to Rodney, he stopped. I was slumped still across the arm of the chair, my face in the cushion, spent, nonetheless still not released.

Yet, our time together was still not finished. Ice cubes. He ran the freezing squares across the burning flesh." I shiver as though I can actually feel the ice even now. "His tongue lapped the droplets distracting me for the moment when he stuck the melting block right into my wanting hole. I jumped, and once again he tugged on my hair. Even as my hot little pocket melted the ice completely, my flesh became almost numb, and I believed at this point that I would surely be denied another orgasm since I was granted one that night as I stayed in my position, Rodney no longer touching me. I was wrong.

I felt the pressure of his stiff cock entering my pussy, his hands squeezing into my hips. When I felt his balls against me, he twisted my hair around his fist, pulling my head back. He nipped my ear saying 'You've been flawless.' My chest ballooned with happiness, and another emotion, perhaps love? I wanted him. I wanted him to want me, for more than just one session. Rodney was who I wanted as a Master, Dom.

As he began to ride me roughly, I came back to reality noticing Jimi and the others standing audience to our display. Jimi showed no emotion, except for the blaze in his eyes.

Even with all of those eyes watching over us, the only thing I felt was Rodney, slamming into me, jerking my hair, biting my neck, Rodney. I climaxed like I have never before in my life, never since, a detonation of my pussy from the trigger of his cock. He collapsed atop me, running his lips from the crook of my neck up to my ear, and the minute that Rodney whispered, 'I want you for mine, Libby,' I knew that if he really meant it I would run away with him right then. Then, he removed himself from me; I immediately missed his body connected to mine. I sank to my knees, back into position, only catching his eye one last time when he brushed my cheek with his fingertips to say, 'Thank you, Sir.'

My focus once again was on the fibers of the carpet, but my head envisioning those emerald eyes, his voice, my inner turmoil. I imagined myself at Rodney's feet, not Jimi's. Though Rodney was harsh, there was also affection in his attentions. It sounds odd when you think about all of the things he had just done to me, but he had a tenderness that none had ever shown me before. It was a combination that I had always longed for. I began to fantasize about living with Rodney, not Jimi, sharing a life, a home...Once I had the courage to disobey by seeking him out with my gaze, his back was disappearing through the door, and Jimi was glaring at me in disapproval. At that moment, I did something that I never had. I prayed. I prayed that I would see Rodney again, and if I did, I would offer myself to him."

"Did you, Libby? Did you wind up with Rodney?"

I feel my eyes glisten, "No, Akiyo. I hoped. I made excuses to wait to start planning the wedding. I pushed it off for as long as I could. Finally, I took it as a sign that Rodney was not going to come back into my life. He's my one that got away."

CHAPTER FIVE

"Libby, you're getting out soon, maybe even the end of this week. Would you like me to go to your home and get anything for you or do anything for you? Maybe I can get groceries or just go freshen up the place for you before you head back home once we find out your discharge date? You've been gone quite a while." Akiyo has continued to visit me after her shifts end, no matter the time, and as I am always here.

"That is very kind of you, but you don't have to do that, Akiyo."

"I know that I don't have to, but I would like to make sure that when you get home you are as comfortable as possible."

"You are a godsend, Akiyo. I really don't know what I'm going to do without seeing you every day," I laugh, but I mean it. This young woman has become a confidant, and friend to me. It's been fun having a girlfriend to chat with, even if she is young enough to be my daughter, for that matter.

"Now that you are allowed, would you like to take a walk? We can talk and maybe sit on the portico by the gardens. The flowers are blooming. Besides the fresh air will be a nice change, don't you think?" She assists me in standing from the bed and helps me as I slip my arms through a second hospital gown backwards, wrapping the opening around my front to cover what would surely be my exposed bum otherwise. "See, Libby, I can at least go get you some things to wear, a robe or something, so you do not have to bear these anymore."

"True enough," I cave to her offered help. "Okay, I'll give you the key, if you truly don't mind."

Akiyo loops one of my arms through hers, keeping me a little balanced as we begin our short trek to the outdoor seating area for staff, family, and patients who are well enough to enjoy it. "So tell me, Libby, did you ever marry Jimi? Did you go through with it?"

I pat her hand on my arm with my free hand. "Oh, yes, I did," my voice has a tinge of sadness, however, I smile slightly as Akiyo helps me to one of the seats in the shade of the gardens. She then takes the seat next to me. "As I said, I pushed off the planning for quite a while after that night, giving excuses of being focused on work, then not being able to decide on a big wedding or small, colors...At first, Jimi seemed okay with the plans moving slowly. Then, he began to become more persistent. I never quite understood why especially because we never made the move to live together beforehand. Hell, we rarely spent a full night together, and never at his place. That should have been my second sign. The first was my hesitancy to even go through with the wedding." I shake my head and focus on the orange, yellow, purple and pink mums and marigolds among the green. Sigh, "I was in denial, I guess. But yes, we did eventually marry. It was funny because we had a better honeymoon than I had anticipated. Then we came home, and outside the door of his house, he kissed me gently, sweetly. I thought that maybe all of my doubts were just needless worries, and we could be happy. I had finally come to live in his home, or domain. Yes, domain describes it better because it was not a home. When the honeymoon was over, everything changed. From the first day back, the moment my suitcases hit the floor inside of that door, he dictated over me in all matters.

You see, before then, he only asserted his rules when we were in scene. My outside life, my time with friends, my work, he never spoke a word of it. I lived just as normally as everyone else outside of our kink, until that moment. Any hope that I had of us being happy was quickly squashed.

I do not joke when I say that he handed me a list, an actual paper list of his rules." I give a curt nod, when Akiyo jerks her head and opens her mouth flabbergasted. "Yes, he handed me this list and told me that he expected me to memorize it by the next day, and to begin undertaking all of the responsibilities that were now mine, and mine alone, including directives on my behavior in public with or without him. He then led me to the bedroom and opened one of the closet doors. He had taken it upon himself to buy me a wardrobe that he deemed suitable of the woman who was his wife."

"What the hell?" Akiyo gasps.

Raising one shoulder, I answer, "I rationalized that due to his work, he wanted his wife to be seen in the quality of style that would only seem appropriate to a CEO of a rather well-known proprietary trading firm. There were many business dinners and events and galas where I was expected to be on his arm, quiet and pretty, as he schmoozed and played Mr. Bigshot. I deemed it to be an acceptable request since I had agreed to enter his world. In fact, I found it slightly humorous because of his secret and what most considered perverted inclinations." I make light of it now, but I recall my heart cracking during this instant. "I just assumed that he needed me to look the part of a trophy wife. I went along with it, and thanked him as it was a magnificent wardrobe that before then, I would have never imagined owning."

Akiyo's stern face gives away that she believes that I accepted the situation without difficulty. She sees right through me, and I cannot face her. I turn back to watch a bee flit amongst the blooms. Folding my hands in my lap, I continue the tale.

"Along with the makeover, Jimi thought it best that I also improve my conversation skills. Though, my foul mouth was deemed perfectly fine during our times of play, anytime other than when deemed permissible by him, I was expected to speak with the utmost decorum."

"Mmmhmm," Akiyo hums out in a manner of understanding.

I acknowledge her, "Yes, you're right. I did not always speak in this classy way. For goodness sake, I was a free love, free spirit, hippie," a slip of a chortle skims from my lips. "But, at first, the demands seemed...sensible." The reminiscences engross my whole self. I swear that I feel my stomach churn and the lump in my throat. "The first time," I swallow audibly, "the first time that I did not live up to his standards at a client dinner, he reprimanded me in front of everyone. He did it in a way that was comical to those around, hinting at my idiocy, but under the table he poked into my outer thigh with a two pronged seafood fork. The gesture letting me know, obviously he was not pleased with my behavior. When we returned home, he banished me into the guest bedroom until he gave me permission to enter his again. He told me that he did not want to hear my shrill, disrespectful voice. He did not speak to me for three days, not one word, not one glance. He did leave a list adding to my responsibilities." I rub my hands remembering the feel of rawness in those days. "The household chores were ever increasing. I had long stopped seeing my friends. Eventually, I was staying up most of the night trying to tackle my list to perfection after my days at the office. Jimi decided that in order for me to be a better wife that I should give up my job. Granted I did not have an affluent job as a secretary, but I enjoyed it. Believing that it would make Jimi happy, and perhaps a little less strict, I complied."