“I have identified each of you as fitting this profile. Now, if you elect to stay, you will be given training in how to express this innate order in your lives. Your marriages will improve as will your own contentment in life. Take your time. Discuss it with your spouse. If you decide not to participate, you may leave now.” Stephen sat down and took a sip from his coffee cup.

Marc turned to Rebecca with a determined look. “This feels right to me, Becky. I was a bit sceptical at first, but I’m sure this will work. Good call.”

Rebecca was horrified. She could sense all her carefully guarded control would be stripped away if he was allowed to continue, and that was simply not tolerable. She pushed herself back from the table and raised her voice.

“If you think I am going to let you boss me around, you are out of your little tiny mind! I’m leaving!” She stormed out leaving Marc to follow if he wanted.

Back upstairs in their opulent room, Rebecca hunted around for their bags. The staff had unpacked everything and put it away so she felt totally disoriented as she searched for her things. After a few moments of frantic searching, she found the suitcases and started to pull open drawers stuffing her clothes into the bags without her usual careful folding and packing. A minute or two later Marc entered their suite. He stood glaring at her with his hands on his hips, anger radiating from him like a black cloud.

“What the hell was that all about? Do you specifically look for ways to embarrass me? This was your idea in the first place. Becky, I love you and I want our marriage to work, but you have to try, too.”

Rebecca took a deep breath and looked at her husband. He was a good man; kind, resourceful and highly intelligent. But he just didn’t spark her interest as a lover anymore. She was tottering on a precipice. Re-dedicate to the marriage or fly. It could go either way at this point, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. She knew how to soothe his feathers quickly so they could get out of there. She put on her most conciliatory face and tone.

“I’m sorry you were embarrassed, Marc. Really I am. But the way he was going on, all I could think of was how Dad always bullied Mom. I just have to get out of here. I promise we’ll try again, but not here, please. You pack. I’ll go get the car and meet you out front.”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. Pulling her suitcase behind, she headed out the door.

Rebecca waited in the Explorer for an eternity. Finally, her husband appeared at the door in deep discussion with their host. Marc was carrying a short stack of books and the two men stood at the top of the stairs talking. The October night was chill. She was trembling. What was taking so long? Stephen was obviously explaining something. The wretched man talked with his hands! Marc nodded and looked towards the car. Rebecca was just reaching for the horn to hurry him along when Stephen handed him what looked like a business card. Marc looked at it carefully before nodding yet again then slipped it into his wallet. They shook hands and Marc turned to the truck. He tossed the books in the back, got in and started the engine. Rebecca tried to say something, but Marc gave her a hard look and she decided silence would be a better option. Clutching the car blanket close around her thin coat, she turned her head to watch as the passing trees and fields turned silver in the moonlight.

Her dinner sat heavily in her stomach and she had drunk too much wine. Damn. She always did that when she was scared and nervous. She thought about the amazing manor house they had just left. She remembered the beautiful service of the girls and the casual elegance of the chatelaine Claire. Stephen’s wife? She wasn’t sure what their relationship was, just that when they walked into the dining room together the energy between them was unmistakeable. Rebecca could never compete with Claire. She felt terribly, terribly betrayed and foolish. The whole thing had been like a dream. Stephen had touched her so deeply when they met. Not physically of course. Rebecca had to be honest in that he had not ever implied the least thing improper, but her fantasies really didn’t take that into account. He was the most powerful and sexiest man she had ever met. She had masturbated to the image of his eyes and the memory of his voice for weeks before she decided she had to see him again even if it meant dragging Marc on the Retreat. She was drawn to him like a bee to honey. More like a moth to the flame. And now she was burned. A slow hot tear trickled down her cheek.

The worse part was Marc was right. They had to do something about the marriage. Now she added guilt to the knots in her stomach. She had justified going on the retreat to herself to see if she would react the same way to Stephen again. She needed to know if there was something wrong with her. She needed to know if she could be aroused. Marc certainly didn’t do it for her anymore. Well, Stephen certainly still aroused her, but when he walked into the dining room with that amazing flower of a woman on his arm… Becky felt the burning flush of embarrassment all over again. This would be a long ride home.

Rebecca woke when the truck lurched onto a rutted country road. It was not quite dawn. Where were they? This wasn’t the way home. The cold grey sky yielded its moisture in a steady rain obscuring the view from the car window. Marc drained the last of his coffee and stuffed the crumpled cup into a bag behind the seat.

“Where are we going? How long have we been on the road?” Rebecca sat up in her seat and tried to get her bearings.

“Good morning to you, too. Obviously, we’ve been driving all night. Eight hours by my count.” Marc gave her a sideways glance as he continued.

“As to where we are going, I am hoping it’s not divorce court!” Marc was silent for a minute before continuing. Becky held her breath. Her mortification from the night before kept her mouth firmly shut.

“Rebecca, our marriage needs an overhaul. We both know it’s not working the way it’s going, but I’m not willing to give up on you yet. So I’ve decided that since we both have the week off, we might as well use it. We’re going to the cabin. Or at least, I’m going to the cabin. You have a choice. In about a half hour we will pass through St. Anne’s. If you want to go home, you can catch the bus from there. However, if you want to work on our marriage, we’ll have our own retreat, just the two of us.”

Marc stopped the truck for a moment and turned to her. “But there will be rules, Rebecca Jane. Look at me! This is the last chance. Do you understand? And this time we do it my way. Do you trust me?”

Rebecca felt something inside flip over and clutch her belly. He was different! This was no longer the mild mannered man she left home with yesterday. Perhaps he really did care. Perhaps he was willing to pay her more attention. Perhaps there was a chance. Before she hardly knew she was answering, she said, “All right, we give it one more go. Your way.”

He nodded and they carried on down the road. It was raining hard by the time they got to St. Anne’s. Rebecca felt completely battered, physically and emotionally. The shocks on the Explorer must need repair, she thought. Either that or the road does. She was hungry, thirsty and needed a bathroom. Marc pulled into the gas station and stopped the engine. Rebecca reached for the door handle.

“You stay here,” Marc commanded. “I’ll be right back.” He pulled a rain slicker from the back seat and jumped out.

“But I have to go to the bathroom!” Rebecca complained.

“You don’t want to go here,” he said as he pulled the coat on. “Trust me on this one.”

He closed the door and went to speak to the attendant. Rebecca’s bladder was almost painful. She reached for the door handle again. After all, how bad could it be? She pulled her coat over her head and got out. Marc was chatting to the attendant on the other side of the car as she headed across the cracked pavement to the tiny, rundown office.

She stopped when she heard the growling. The biggest dog she had ever seen was walking directly towards her. His malevolent yellow eyes seemed to bore right into her. She tried to move around him, but his growling got worse. Cold sweat broke out all over her thinly clad body. She started to move back to the truck but he cut her off. He seemed to be herding her into the woods! In a panic, she threw her coat at him and ran for the truck as fast as she could. One of her spike heels got stuck in a crack in the pavement and broke as she fell.

She screamed as she hit the deep puddle and threw her arms over her head in anticipation of the inevitable attack. She heard a shrill whistle and then Marc’s strong hands were pulling her upright.

“God Becky, I told you to stay in the car! Now look at you! Your dress is ruined and you’re completely soaked. You’ve lost your coat, too.” Rebecca caught a glimpse of the big dog loping off into the woods with her coat. “Back in the car! Now!”

Marc opened the car door and thrust Rebecca inside. She was shivering in fear and cold and wet. Marc was right. Her dress was ripped, her pretty sandals broken, and she had skinned her knee and hands when she fell. She gently wiped her hands and knee with the remnants of her dress, then pulled the blanket over her shoulders and waited for Marc to get back in the car.

When he climbed in beside her, he started the engine and turned up the heat. Then he pulled the blanket off. “Get out of your dress. You’ll catch cold.”

“Get my case from the back,” Rebecca said as she pulled the tatters of her gown over her head. Marc helped her pull it off then tossed it out the door and drove away.

“Marc! I’m naked! I’ll freeze!” Panic was making her voice sound shrill. Marc handed the blanket back to her.

“You won’t freeze. You’re not even completely naked. Actually, I like you in that red thong. You’ll be warmer wrapped in the blanket and we don’t have time to wait until you get dressed. So here’s the deal, Becky. I will take care of you. You will be warm and fed as long as you are polite and do as you’re told. At any time you can ask to leave and I will drive you to the bus station. But if you do, the marriage is over and you will never see me again. Got it?”

Rebecca looked at her husband for a long time. “You can’t be serious! You’d leave me if I decided to go back home?”

“I’m sorry but yes. The marriage isn’t working and we’ve tried everything else. Frankly, I’m unwilling to keep you any more as we were. We change, both of us, now, or we forget it and divide the spoils.”

Two weeks ago Rebecca would have leapt at the chance of an amiable separation. But today everything had changed. Marc had changed. All of a sudden he was much more interesting. At any rate, he would take her to the bus station if she asked, so she didn’t have to go now.

Rebecca considered her options. The car was safe and warm and, after her encounter with the dog, she didn’t want to be alone.

“I’ll stay.”

“Good. Now you won’t be so tempted to disobey me again, eh?”

When they got to the general store, Marc took all the bags and locked them in the trunk.

“Ok, you wait here, seat belt strapped on, and don’t move. I’ll find you a bathroom.”

He was gone a long time. The grocery boy came out and put the cardboard boxes of food in the back of the Explorer without even looking at Becky. Still she waited, squirming in her seat. He was folding up his Cell phone and tucking it away as he finally emerged from the store and got into the truck. Rebecca’s bladder was in urgent need of release.

“About bloody well time! How long does it take to get a few fucking supplies? And who the hell were you talking to? Don’t you get it? I have got to get to a bathroom, Marc!”

Marc looked at her in dismay. “Such language. And here I was all set to reward you.” Marc started the engine and the truck lurched out of town.

“What!?! Come on Marc. I really need to pee.”

“Beg for it. First, beg my pardon for your disobedience and your language then beg for permission to pee.”

“Fuck off!”

“Your choice.”

The truck hit a rut sideways and the jolt sent painful shocks through Rebecca’s belly. So this was his game, eh? Well, she would not give in. Beg?! Forget it. She’d pee in his truck first.

Marc seemed to read her mind. “That blanket will be your only covering from now on, so be careful with it. You pee in it, you’ll be wearing it for days.”

She glared at him, anger closing her mouth in a hard line.

She remembered the cabin was a good hour’s drive out of St. Anne’s into the woods. She wondered if she would be able to make it.

After about half an hour she was in such agony, she could hardly think. She decided to give him his fucking apology. “Ok. I’m sorry I got out of the truck, and I’m sorry about my language. So can I pee now? Please?”

Marc looked at her sideways. “You call that begging? We’ll have to work on that I see.” He paused a moment before continuing. “Because your begging lacked any hint of sincerity, you are going to provide a small service for me.”

He stopped the car and grabbed the blanket, tossing it into the back. “It’s been ages since I got any satisfying sex from you. I want a blowjob.” He opened his fly and pulled out his cock. It was hard and straight. Rebecca could hardly believe it! She felt a hot thrill of excitement race through her body, the pressure in her bladder only adding to her arousal. Nevertheless, she was not going to give in that easily.

“Are you out of your mind? Here? I’m naked and I have to pee and you want a blowjob?”

“It’s your own fault you’re naked. I’m offering you a way to make up for it, and you’re resisting. I keep giving you choices, Becky. This one is simple. If you want to pee, it’s a blowjob, beg nicely, or I can take you back to the bus. What’s it going to be?”

Rebecca felt like her whole body was on fire. She was shivering and burning at the same time. Her skin crawled. She couldn’t choose the bus now. This had become a battle of wills. She knew what he was trying to do and he wasn’t going to win. She would show him how much she could take without giving in. She would not beg, that’s for damn sure, and it had been such a long time. So the blowjob seemed like the best option to get what she wanted. Besides, she would give him the best blowjob he’d ever had. His come would spurt so high they’d have to clean it off the windshield. He would regret ignoring her for so many months.

“All right, I’ll do it.”

Marc reached over and slid the passenger seat all the way back. “On the floor,” he commanded. Rebecca slipped onto the floor as Marc crawled over to her side. He straddled her and Rebecca reached forward to take him into her mouth. Suddenly she felt his hands in her hair. He pulled her in and started to fuck her mouth. Becky gagged as his cock pounded into the back of her throat. Her reflex almost caused her to lose control of her bladder, but Marc pulled her back and forth in a steady rhythm she quickly adapted to.

Rebecca felt her own arousal growing. She really wanted to climb on top of this premier erection and get her own release. Her cunt was dripping and swollen around the thin ribbon of her thong. She tried to exert some control, to play with her tongue the way she knew he liked. It was starting to have the desired result. His cock was throbbing and his grip on her hair was faltering. She reached up to his balls with one hand and down to her clit with the other. Yes, any minute now, he will throw back his head and scream his release. She might even swallow it. She rubbed her clit hard and fast.

Instead, he tightened his grip in her hair and pulled her off his cock. “That’s enough.” He opened the car door. “Ok, out you get. Be quick.”

Rebecca was caught off balance. She knew he was close to coming. God, she was close too! Why had he quit? She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and collected her wits.

“Marc, I’m naked! I can’t get out like this! Give me your coat!”

“Rebecca, I have driven all night. I’m tired and hungry and I’ve had enough of your rudeness and your complaints. You only get the blanket and I’m not going to let you get it wet. If you want to pee, Becky, do it now. No one will come along to see you. Or you can wait till we get to the cabin; it’s only another half hour or so.”

Filled with frustration, Rebecca scrabbled out of the truck and hurried under a large pine. The big branches shielded her from the rain as she pulled off her thong and crouched to pee. The scent of her urine mixed with the fragrance of the pine tree as her long, hot stream soaked into the soft ground. Her throbbing clit burned with release and she felt a lovely gentle orgasm shudder through her body.

She started to cry quietly with the relief. She needed to think. The thong was the only thing available to wipe herself with but she couldn’t stand to carry it back to the truck. She dropped it in the needles. Part of her wanted to stay under the welcoming boughs, but she was cold and wet so she hurried back to the truck and jumped inside. A small voice in her head was grateful Marc had not locked her out. He passed her the blanket when she closed the door.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.” Marc put the car in gear and they drove the rest of the way in silence. Rebecca lost in her thoughts. What was going on with her? She was always in control of everything, but nothing had gone right since dinner last night. She thought she would wake up in her own driveway, but instead, she found herself naked in the rain peeing under a tree! The worse part was that orgasm. It was truly wonderful, even such a small and gentle one. It was the best she’d had in too long to remember. Her husband had turned into a monster and her traitorous body thought it was the sexiest thing in the world!

She looked at him carefully as her body warmed up again. She remembered how sexy and exciting she had found him when they were courting. He still had a full head of dark hair with just a bit of grey at the temples. His unshaven face made him look so much like his voyageur ancestors. A small sliver of a thought crept into her mind. Over the past few months Marc had distanced himself from her. She had been rude and obnoxious and he had kept giving her more ‘space’ until they were hardly living in the same house anymore, until all she felt for her husband was distain at his weakness and despair at his indifference. Her behaviour really had been horrible last night, and she should have listened to him at the gas station, but his reactions were completely new and different today. He was showing strength and power. She wasn’t afraid. She knew the instant she wanted to leave, Marc would take her, but she’d be damned if she’d run away until she found out what was going on here.

When they got to the cabin, Marc pulled the rain slicker over his head.

“Wait here,” he commanded and he fetched the groceries out of the back of the truck. He made a couple of trips then opened the passenger door, holding his coat open for her to shelter underneath. They ran to the porch then quickly inside.

The cabin was small but snug and comfortable. A couple of chairs, a bookcase filled with three generations of favourite tomes and a table were in the main room. The tiny kitchen was at the back behind the massive wood stove and a ladder led to the sleeping loft above. Rebecca sourly remembered there was no bathroom in this cabin. The outhouse was a short walk out back.

“Unpack the groceries, Becky. I’ll get the fire going then we can have breakfast.” He started to arrange the wood. Rebecca wrapped the blanket closer around her shoulders and went to the kitchen. Marc had bought a good supply of food, flour, sugar, coffee, and plenty of canned goods. Even some eggs, fresh fruit and veggies, though these would not last too long without refrigeration. She greedily bit into an apple as she unpacked, savouring the sweet wetness.

This was a hunting cabin. Marc had once spent an entire winter up here all alone. He knew the surrounding land intimately and Rebecca had no worries that they would be perfectly well provisioned. There was always the possibility of an early snowfall trapping them there, but it wasn’t as if they had children to worry about. They didn’t even have a cat. The stove flared to life under Marc’s expert touch and the cabin was soon toasty warm.

When Rebecca returned to the main room, she noticed some changes. Most of the furniture was missing for one thing. She looked around for her suitcase and couldn’t see it anywhere. There was only a single chair left and Marc was sitting in it.

“Do I get my clothes?” Rebecca asked carefully as she pulled her blanket closer.

“Maybe… later… when you’ve earned it.” His dark eyes sparkled mischievously and Becky could feel her cunt throb at his words.

“For now, get me some breakfast. The apple you took will hold you for a while. If you need anything else to eat, ask me first.”

“What?! Marc, I only had an apple. I’m still hungry.”

“Yes, I know. But understand this, my girl, I control everything.” Marc got up and approached her. He was a big man. Rebecca had forgotten how powerfully built he was. “Your only choice is obey or ask to leave. I don’t know how much clearer I can be. And another thing, this is my cabin and you are my wife, all mine.” His finger traced her delicate jaw. “You will address me as Sir.” His words were low and dangerously quiet as he towered over her. Her hands were hot and her belly was on fire. She fought an overwhelming desire to drop to her knees and held his eyes.

“Now quit your whining and get my breakfast. The cabin is warm enough now, and this will just get in the way.” Marc took the blanket, leaving her completely naked. He turned her to face the kitchen and gave her a little push. “Besides you have a lovely body and I like to look at it.”

Rebecca blushed as she moved to the kitchen and crossed her arms over her chest trying to cover herself.

“Stop. Don’t do that. I want to see your breasts. I think I will keep the cabin warm enough so you don’t need the blanket at all. Perhaps later, if you’re good, I’ll fuck you.”

Her traitorous body answered him with a hot wetness between her legs again. It had been months, perhaps longer, since the thought of sex with Marc had made her feel so hot! Now she had felt this twice in one morning! She could feel his eyes follow her into the kitchen.

Rebecca was an excellent cook but her mind was elsewhere. She scorched the toast and the eggs were a bit dry. She served it anyway, but Marc took one bite of the eggs and put down his fork. He picked up the toast and turned it from side to side.

“This is not up to your usual standards, Rebecca.” Marc’s voice was quiet, icy calm.

Rebellion, fear and anger flared in her, “Well then, cook it yourself!”

“Don’t you dare use that tone with me!” Marc thundered to his feet, knocking the chair over and looked at Rebecca hard. She felt like a knife had been plunged into her belly, the anger radiating from him was palpable.

Marc clenched his fists once, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he just reached for his rain slicker and stalked out.

Rebecca just stood there, feeling much more naked than she had just a few moments ago. It didn’t take long though and he was back. He hung up his rain slicker and turned to face her.

“I’m sorry, Becky. I lost my temper. I’m tired, and this is not easy for me either, but those are just reasons, not an excuse. But I will promise you it will never happen again. I swear on all that is holy, I will control myself. If I get angry, and I probably will, I will deal with it and control it.” Marc took another deep breath and continued. “Now, on that note, I think I had better sleep. You can eat the breakfast. Please do not wake me.” Then he climbed up to the loft and went to sleep.

Rebecca was alone with her thoughts and feelings for the first time since they arrived at the cabin. To say she was confused was a gross understatement. She needed to think but couldn’t get her brain to function. Everything she thought she understood about their relationship was out the window. Part of her said that Marc had lost his mind and she should just get out, but whenever she considered that option, her body would stop her. He had never lied to her, never given her the least inclination that he did not mean exactly what he said. And clearly her body was responding to this ‘new’ Marc in ways she thought long dead.

A growl from her stomach reminded her of Marc’s instruction to eat. As she picked at the remains of the breakfast, a thought occurred to her that turned the egg in her mouth to ash. This was actually one of her oldest fantasies. She had never told a soul, hadn’t even thought about it herself in over ten years. When she was very young, just at the dawn of her sexual awakening, she had a recurring dream of being abducted by pirates and kept as a slave in a small cabin. Of course, in her dream it was a cabin on a ship rather than a cabin in the woods, but the rest was the same. All it needed now was for Marc to chain her to the deck at night!

Suddenly she wasn’t the least bit hungry and the cabin was far too warm. She needed to do something, anything to keep her from chewing her fingernails to the quick. She had always used housecleaning as a form of meditation, so she hunted around for the broom and mop and gave the tiny cabin a good scrub down.

She was just finishing and had regained her composure when she heard Marc rousing in the loft. He was talking on the Cell phone, but she couldn’t make out his words. By the time he descended from the loft she had a pot of soup simmering on the wood stove and the cabin was spotless.

After lunch, Marc sat in the chair and Becky made a pillow out of the blanket at his feet. Her heart swelled with pride when he praised her cooking and she found herself honestly grateful when he told her she could pour herself some coffee. But she declined food. She was still feeling pretty shaky. He allowed her to borrow his rain slicker to make the trek to the outhouse but retrieved it when she got back inside, rubbing her body vigorously to warm her up again.

They talked all afternoon as the rain continued. She found herself telling him things she thought long buried. She spoke of her grandmother and how much she missed her, her fractious relationship with her sisters and her distain for her mother. All her fears about her job came out. How she knew at some point they would find fault with her and fire her, even though she was the top producer in her division. She finally told him about her fantasy. She cried more than once and Marc comforted her and stroked her hair. Never once did he ridicule her or try to get her to stop.

Eventually, Marc lit the gas lamps as dusk fell and Becky asked if she could make him some dinner. Marc smiled as he agreed. He opened a bottle of wine, poured a single glass and corked it again. When she brought him his plate, he pulled her down beside him.

“You have done enough today, Becky. Now I will take care of you. No. Don’t touch, I’ll feed you.” He poked a piece of the food with his fork and held it to her lips. She reached forward and took it delicately between her teeth, her eyes never leaving his face. He licked his lips and gave her anther piece. After they had finished the plate, Marc gave her a sip of wine, and went to get more food.

Conversation stopped as Rebecca was too aroused by being fed to talk. Her skin crawled. She wanted to be touched but was afraid to ask for it. Marc, too, seemed disinclined to talk, content simply to share the food and wine.

When the meal was done, Marc dipped his finger in the last drop of wine and traced a lazy, wet path from her neck down to her breasts. He circled one nipple, then the other, while he watched her face carefully. Rebecca thought she would swoon. She closed her eyes and parted her lips hoping for a kiss. Marc smiled, reached down and kissed her on the cheek.

“Clean up the kitchen and bring me some tea,” he whispered into her ear as he stood up and tugged on his trousers. He reached for his rain slicker and headed for the outhouse. Becky swayed with the touch and took a deep breath. She was so hot. Why wouldn’t he touch her? Today had started so badly, but then this afternoon had been wonderful. She couldn’t remember ever being so comfortable and happy with Marc, despite sitting naked on the floor, or perhaps because of it. But she really wanted to be fucked. Didn’t he say he would fuck her if she were good? Maybe things hadn’t changed that much after all. How many nights had she gone to bed wanting to be touched and not feeling anything? Now her whole body was aflame. She thought he wanted her. No, she knew he wanted her, that bulge in his pants could only mean one thing. But she had no idea why he was walking away. Rebecca wiped the tears from her cheeks as she went to make the tea, using the familiar movements to build her armour again.

When they finished the tea, Marc looked at her thoughtfully.

“So you’ve managed to get through the whole day without asking to be taken to the bus. Not bad, Rebecca. Not bad at all.”

“There, you see? I can act like a good girl when I have to. So can I get my clothes back now?”

“Yes, I see that you can. And no, you can’t have clothes yet. I told you I like to see you naked. Tomorrow we ramp things up, but now it’s time for bed. You haven’t earned the right to sleep with me yet, so you can stay down here, by the fire. Don’t let it go out.” Marc headed for the loft.

“Marc?!? Hey! I don’t understand. Why can’t I sleep in the bed? Come on. Be nice.”

“Well, I suppose it’s only fair for you to know. I told you this morning you are to address me as Sir. You have not. My breakfast was poorly cooked, yet you served it anyway…” Marc continued to list all the small things she had done during the day. It was a long list. With each item, Rebecca had to agree she had not given her best. She was angry he was being so picky and amazed he was paying such close attention.

“Now, it occurs to me that I haven’t been clear in my expectations, so I won’t punish you for these things today, but I will tomorrow. It’s too bad really; I was going to enjoy fucking you. Good night, Becky.” And with that, Marc climbed the ladder.

His words made her sway. He was denying both of them, and for what? A well cooked piece of toast?

“What am I supposed to sleep on?” she called after him.

A pillow and a quilt came tumbling down on her head. Becky gave a big sigh then her anger took hold once more. Punish! Who does he think he is! We’ll see about that! She banked the woodstove and arranged her bedding. The quilt was big and thick and the floor clean, but even though she was quite comfortable, it took a long time to fall asleep. Too much had happened today to make sleep easy.

The morning dawned bright and cold. Becky added wood to the stove and huddled into her quilt until the tiny cabin warmed up enough for her to crawl out of her cocoon and get some coffee on. Then she heated a large kettle of water to give herself a sponge bath.

After breakfast, Marc sat her down and explained to her the new rules. He was making up for his lack of detail the day before. He told her exactly how he expected her to behave and how she was to keep the cabin. Everything from how he liked his coffee and how to arrange the cans in the cupboard to how to ask to go to the outhouse.

“Do you think you can remember all that?” He asked when he had finished.

“Of course I can.” Becky cast him a quick glance, “Sir.” The word almost caught in her throat. She found herself wondering how closely he was going to pay attention to all those details and decided she better tread carefully.

Marc smiled. “Good, because I’ll punish you if you mess up. Now let me look at you. Stand up.”

Becky stood, feeling more self-conscious now than in all the years of their marriage. He had always seen her naked, but never in this obviously appraising way. Becky held herself a bit higher and pulled in her tummy.

“Hands behind your head, elbows back. Good. Now turn around. Slowly. I want to see everything. Stop.”

Becky was facing away from him when he stopped her. She was blushing furiously, her hands hot and wet.

“Lovely.” Marc’s finger traced a slow line down her back and over the swell of her hips before stopping to cup her ass. “Truly lovely and all mine. Spread the legs. A bit more.”

Becky could not disobey if she wanted to at this point. Her body really was his and was responding directly to his commands. If the humiliation didn’t kill her, the arousal just might. Her cunt was throbbing and her belly clenched. His hands ran up the backs of her legs and she shivered.

“Hold still, girl. I want to see more of my property. Bend over.” With one hand on her back he pushed her head down. “Are you enjoying this? No, don’t talk. I’ll see for myself.” His fingers ran up the inside of her legs and along her cunt slit. She was wet. She could feel her juices cool on her skin. “Yes, I see you are. I’ve just thought of a couple of more rules for you. I want your body always available to me. Keep your lips always slightly open. Never cross your legs or your arms.” His finger dipped into her cunt. Becky felt his breath on her ass. God, he was so close. She heard him breathing deeply. His voice was low, almost a growl. “Ummm, delicious. I think I will just throw out all your panties. I never want this covered up again.” His free hand reached up and grabbed her breasts as they hung over. Becky swayed finding it difficult to keep her balance. “Ok, up.” He came around in front of her.

Becky straightened and released her hands. Marc’s fingers were still deep inside her and he pulled her tight against his body. The roughness of his clothing felt so delicious on her skin. Becky remembered the new rule and kept her lips parted. Marc grabbed her by the hair and kissed her roughly, taking possession of her mouth. She submitted to the urgency of her passion, pressing herself even closer to her husband’s body, his cock rigid and insistent against her belly.

“Remember, at any time, you can tell me to stop and I will. You just say St. Anne and off you go. But as long as you are here,” his voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper, “I’m going to fuck you.”

Becky felt herself being forced to her knees still facing the wall. A terrible feeling of longing and emptiness washed over her as he withdrew his fingers from her cunt.

“Very beautiful. Although I don’t recall giving you permission to drop your hands.”

Becky quickly laced her fingers behind her head and spread her knees.

“Wait.” The command sounded like one he would give to a dog. Becky could hear Marc move around the cabin, her awareness sharpened, her whole body reaching for him. Finally his footsteps came up behind her and she was plunged into darkness as a scarf was tied around her eyes.

“Up you get.” Marc’s strong hands helped her to her feet and turned her around. She took a few steps before he forced her to her knees on the softness of the quilt then was pushed face down over a pillow, lifting her ass slightly. Marc quickly lashed her wrists together behind her back.

“This body is my playground today. You will not be allowed the least bit of control.”

Becky tried to resist at first, but it was too much. Having her hands tied and her sight taken away had focussed all her awareness on the careful and systematic arousal he was practicing on her body. He started at her feet and covered every part of her with bites and kisses, all the while murmuring commentary on her beauty and desirability. She felt treasured for the first time in years. He fed her sensations of pleasure and pain; a long caress, gentle probing of her various openings, kisses, bites and pinches. No part of her body was immune to his attentions.

Just when she thought she would explode, he untied her hands and turned her onto her back. The weight of his body pressed her into the quilt as he lifted her hands above her head and lashed her hands together again. She had no idea what he had tied her to, but a quick testing tug proved she was not going anywhere. He continued taking inventory of her body. She was aflame with passion and thrust her hips up in clear invitation. She wanted to feel him inside her body. She wanted to be filled.

“I’m going to mark you.” His voice was almost a whisper as he sucked the skin of her throat into his mouth. Becky writhed with the delicious torment. Hickies! He was giving her a necklace of hickies! She could feel his cock hard between her thighs and tried to distract him from his task by squeezing her thighs together. He answered her attempts with a low laugh and pushed her thighs apart easily.

“You will have to learn to ask for what you need!” He continued placing his marks on her throat, each one pushing Becky’s passion higher.

“Fuck me, Marc,” Becky gasped.

A slap landed on her breast. “You call me Sir. Remember? Do not presume to use my name until I give you permission.” Marc pressed his weight harder into her belly and took another bit of skin into his mouth.

Becky was shocked at the pain, but it only fed her passion higher. She was so close to coming. He was holding her on the edge and she needed release.

“Please.” It was almost a whisper, more of a moan.

“Ummm? What was that?” Marc finished with her neck and started on her breasts. Little bites all around her soft mounds while he held her nipples tightly between his fingernails.

“Oh, God!” She tried to move away from him, and towards him. “I want you in me. Just fuck me. Please!”

“Can’t hear you.” His fingers tightened on her nipples. Becky screamed her passion and pain bucking beneath him in a futility of effort.

“Please, Sir! I need… ah! I need you…” She could hardly believe what was coming out of her mouth, but it felt so right. Suddenly, something snapped inside her. She started babbling her pleas, pushing her body into her husband’s, thrashing under him, pulling at her bonds. She did need him; all of him. This was her completion. She was a wild thing completely out of control, but safe in his arms. He held her tightly, his cock throbbing between her legs. She pulled against her bonds trying to move her cunt closer to his cock.

“You are mine. Say it!” His voice was an anchor in the tempest of her passion.

“Yes! I’m yours! All yours! Please! Take me! Fill me! Please, oh God! Please! I need you…”

She felt his cock push against her cunt. She stopped thrashing, gasping for breath, pulling her legs as far apart as she could, hoping and praying for him to enter her hard and fast.

He held her with his cock just barely in.

“Do you give yourself to me?”

“Yes, oh yes. Absolutely. Please.” She had ceased to be Rebecca and was just a need to be filled.

A single hard, brutal thrust sent her into screaming climax. She clamped down on him as her world exploded into colour. He pulled back and let her catch her breath for just a moment.

“I accept you.”

His thrusts were hard, deep and deliberate, each one stripping more of her away. She climaxed several times by the time Marc pulled out and flipped her back onto her stomach. With a quick movement, her hands were released and re-tied behind her back. She felt battered and used, filled and fulfilled. He spread her ass cheeks, opening her. He pushed his cock deep into her again then straddled her legs, pinning them together. He was deep inside her as she rode the waves of sensation. Something probed at her anus and instinctively she stiffened. She was answered by a spank on her ass.

“Open for me, slut.”

Becky relaxed and the intrusion filled her further. She was impaled, completely overwhelmed and climaxing again. He had her absolutely and she submitted to his use. He was her universe and each sensation he gifted her with simply drove her higher. He fucked her for a long time. Becky floated, hardly aware of the pounding of her body and the eventual release of her husband.

Afterward, they lay entwined in the afterglow of their lovemaking; warm and satiated. Marc stroked her hair and her arms, gently touching her new necklace of marks.

“You did very well. Such a good girl. Such a perfect slut. Now I want one more thing from you.”

Becky could not imagine what more he would want from her. She felt like she had given him everything, her body and soul, but it was ok. She had never felt such passion and, if she was honest, such contentment. She had even stopped being conscious of her nakedness. She looked at him in expectation, almost losing herself in his lovely, dark eyes.

“I want your name. Just as I stripped you of your clothes, I am stripping you of your name.”

The girl felt like she was falling, but the rightness of it held her. She was safe with him. He would take care of her.

“Yes, Sir.” She smiled as he kissed her gently. “Will I get it back?”

“Perhaps… later. Or perhaps I will give you a new one.”

They just finished decorating the Christmas tree when Marc picked up the phone to dial the number Stephen had given him before they left the manor. It had been a hard week at the cabin but worth every tear. There had been setbacks, of course, but after that first lovemaking, the path was set and there was no turning back. Of course it helped to be able to call the manor and get some advice from Master Stephen when he had run out of ideas. When she finally submitted, fully and deeply, it had been truly awesome. Marc was a bit scared of the level of responsibility he had taken on, but knew she was worth it.

He had given her the name Raissa and she thanked him fully and sincerely; her pride and happiness clear. She was still Becky in public of course, but at home she was Raissa and he was Sir. For the past two months they worked hard integrating this new dynamic into their regular lives, but it had worked. So far. Now it was time for the next step.

The phone rang a few times before it was answered.

“Hello, Alexander Waring here.”

“Hello, Mr. Waring. My name is Marc Ducharmes. Stephen Rutka gave me your name. I was wondering if I could speak to you about some submissive training for my wife, Raissa.”

Please tell me what you think :

©2005, felicia Mansur. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

This is mine! Read it, Enjoy it, Tell your Friends!