Zed strolled casually down West Beach as the sun settled lower in the sky, causing the sea to sparkling like a vast array of diamonds, which were only subdued by her classic Ray-Bans. A gentle cooling breeze blew in from the sea, softly tugging at her light muslin shawl draped loosely over her shoulders. A full-figured woman who stood at 5'10", her smooth gait, bright red lipstick, and the subtle sway of her hips suggested a level of confidence she wasn’t feeling. Having long mastered control over her outward appearance, her graceful stride gave her a level of elegance few women could achieve.
Even now, she could feel the eyes of men and boys on her as she walked past them. They watched her, even when she wore cargo shorts over her one-piece bathing suit. Reflecting on her day, she wasn’t even sure what she was doing here or if she’d passed his test. But weren’t they always tests? He was thrilling, alive, wild, but only in the moment.
Afterward, there was nothing. No words. No contact. Isolation. Emptiness. The ache in the pit of her stomach could have overwhelmed her if she hadn’t learned to ignore it. She knew she was there to please him, and no more, but she couldn’t help wanting him. Recognizing these feelings were coming didn’t provide her with any comfort. Instead, they left her feeling desperately lonely as she felt her heart slowly breaking again. It never changed.
The white sand contrasted against her tanned skin as sharply as his presence did with his absence. With each step she took away from him, she knew her heart would eventually mend, but she’d walked this path before, and each time it became a little more challenging. It didn’t help that her shame had prevented her from revealing their secret, as much as his non-disclosure agreement had. To speak a word would end everything, and perhaps worse. He could see through her like a pane of glass, and even though they discussed the same things each time, confirming her loyalty, she couldn’t have lied to him if she wanted to. She was his and would do anything to hold on to him.
Playing out the scene in her mind, Zed saw herself inspecting his favourite tools, holding them, working them, releasing them. It always started in the same way. He’d open his toy chest and let her have time with everything. Answering her questions as she went. After she declared their secret was still safe and she hadn’t breached their contract, Jack confirmed their safe and control words, despite them never changing. Zulu to end play and Yankee to proceed to the next event on the master list, as a way to bow out early if the situation became too harsh. Yankee was not used to stop the pain, only to change it.
Neither word had ever been used. Jack was always the businessman. In control. He controlled everything. The man who drove his car. The man who carried the box. The man who met her at the house. He controlled everyone. He controlled her. Jack could own her; she sighed.
Younger than his demeanour suggested, Jack was slightly taller than her, cut as if by a chisel, and clean. There wasn’t a hair on his body below his neck, and his skin was flawless. He was perfect. He was beautiful.
She could have been his mother, musing over the seventeen-year age difference, absentmindedly running her hand over her bruised knuckle, wishing it didn’t hurt so badly. “It happens,” she chuckled to herself. He never said why he picked her. He could have anyone he wanted. Jack had anyone he wanted.
The call always came 48 hours before they met. Airline tickets and her instructions followed it. Zed had never said no. She didn’t know if her heart would let her say no. She didn’t want to say no. A private car was always sent. The driver never spoke. She never spoke. She wasn’t allowed to talk to his people once it started.
The man who met her at the house gave her instructions, while she remained silent. Once the box was opened, was she allowed to speak, and just to him. That’s how play started. The game was over when the box closed. Silence returned when the box closed. Jack left when the box closed.
Her husband never asked what she did when she was away. He never asked about the marks. The bruises. He never asked. He never asked why she remained silent. He was accustomed to her business travel. Their understanding required silence.
Inspecting the large butt plug, she looked at him and asked, “This one?”
“Yes.”
“A choker collar?”
“Yes,” he repeated.
“I have no more questions. I have inspected the equipment and have found it all to be in working order for their intended purpose. I agree with the events list. I am ready to proceed.” She confirmed.
“I agree to the events list. I am ready to proceed. Clear the house.” He commanded. Jack’s men immediately left the room. When the outside door clicked, he turned back to Zed with an expectant look in his eyes, “Ms. Zed, I am yours.”
“Shall we begin then?” She asked, raising her open hand in the air and slapped him firmly across the face. “Don’t look at me. Don’t speak. Don’t move.”
Returning to the box, she retrieved the choker collar and red dog leash. She fitted the collar, attached the leash, walked Jack to the massive dining room table, and passed the leash around a table leg. Hauling firmly on his collar, he followed it until his face was level with the tabletop. “Don’t kneel,” she ordered as she tied it off.
Fetching the box’s restraining straps, she returned to the table and quickly secured them to the four-post legs. Once done, she untied Jack’s leash but didn’t release the tension. Instead, she forced his head under the table and continued to pull until he had no choice to follow. Passing under the table, his Cartier sunglasses fell from his pocket onto the floor, coming to rest near her foot.
She stopped pulling, leaving him under the table, head down, his back pressing painfully against its underside.
“I don’t understand. You said you were prepared,” Zed chastised him as she crushed the glasses under her heel with him watching, “but you are not prepared. I expected better.”
Hauling him out and back up onto his feet, she led Jack to the kitchen sink, forced him down and commanded him to open the cupboard below it. “Withdraw the dustpan and hand broom.”
Returning him to his sunglasses, she stood him in front of them. “We won’t repeat this. Clean it.”
Doing as he was told, he quickly swept the remains of his glasses into the pan and stood again. His eyes were staring intently at the small mark on the floor his gunmetal frames had made. He made no further movement once he stood up, not wanting to draw her attention.
“Tell me you are prepared,” she said coldly.
“I am prepared.”
“You’ve wasted my time. Walk yourself to the dustbin and return.” She held his leash up to his mouth and placed it between his teeth. Turning quickly, Jack did as he was told obediently.
“Lay on the table facing the ceiling.”
Sitting on the edge of the table, Jack lifted himself, turned lengthwise and laid back. His leash remained in his mouth. Casting her eye over him, she liked what she saw. His light pink coral dress shirt was open at the collar. His grey Armani dress pants were cuffed and held on with a dark brown belt that matched his Hugo Boss shoes. Custom made, of course, she thought. His socks matched his shirt.
Strapping his wrists and ankles down firmly, Jack was now laying before her spread eagle, with his head hanging off the table. Returning to his neck, she removed the leash, leaving the collar. Folding it, she placed it on the couch behind her as she walked to the kitchen.
Noticing the smell of the sea on the light breeze blowing in from the open windows, she stopped to admire the view as she retrieved the heavy medical scissors from the drawer. Absentmindedly opening and closing them in her right hand, she wondered why she’d never vacationed here. The sea was lovely. The thought faded quickly as she returned to the task at hand.
“I’d rather you’d not have distracted me. I had hoped for something else,” Zed said as she took his right foot her left hand and cut the laces off with the scissors. Taking the shoe off, she threw it towards the open patio door. Doing the same with his left shoe, she then held the bottom cuff of his pants and ran the scissors up his pant leg, cleanly cutting it up to his waist. She then returned to his right pant leg. The scissors cut through his belt with ease.
It was a shame, she thought. Such a waste of a beautiful finely tailored bespoke shirt, as she cut the left sleeve up to the shoulder, revealing Jack’s muscular arm. What a lovely arm, she told herself.
Running the scissors down the left breast, she hauled the front of the shirt out of his newly opened slacks. Moving to the right sleeve, she cut straight through his shirt collar. Now that he was more or less open, she began pulling his clothing away and dropping the bits to the floor, exposing more of Jack’s body to her hungry eyes.
Surveying him lying in his boxers and pink socks, she decided to leave them for now. Taking a seat in the chair closest to his head, she took a handful of his short dark hair and held his head up to relieve the stress on his neck.
“Better?” She asked, turning him toward her face and leaning in.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She replied, letting his head drop. Standing up, she pushed the chair to the side, placed her leg on it, lifted her skirt and brought her naked vagina to within an inch of his face.
“Eat me.” It was an order, not a request.
He reached out to her with his tongue and ran it along her slit. She was moist, so must have been enjoying herself, Jack thought, as we worked his way inside of her. He felt Zed press herself ever so slightly against his face as he worked her labia over. She had a mild, pleasant taste that he enjoyed hungrily.
Lifting his head and fighting the muscle strain, he pressed further into her, in search of her clit. Finding it, he used his lower jaw to spread her lips as he continued to lick. Her breathing was quickening, and he hoped he was close to bringing her to orgasm because the pain was becoming unbearable. The risk of not bringing her off was too much like a failure in his mind, so not giving in to the pain, he redoubled his efforts.
Zed controlled her breathing but felt the climax coming on like a train running down the tracks. His increased force inside her was having a significant effect on her, and she wanted more but couldn’t give him the satisfaction of losing control over herself.
She would cum on his face, but not because of her efforts. It was his responsibility to fulfill her needs. He’d already failed her once in his lack of preparation. To fail again would not be pleasant for him, and they both knew that.
Zed pulled back slightly, causing him to lose contact with her momentarily. She smiled as she sensed his head grinding back into her as Jack extended his neck further, knowing the pain he felt was punishing. Good. It wouldn’t be long now.
“Ugh. Ugh. Hmm,” were the only noises Zed made as her muscles tensed, her pussy spasmed, and she came on his mouth. It wasn’t intense or incredibly powerful, but she enjoyed it none the less. Reaching down, she grasped his hair from behind her leg and ground herself on his face as the waves rushed through her body. There, that’ll do nicely. She told herself as she humped Jack’s face.
Standing up again, she reversed the chair, pushed it close to the table, lifted his head and placed it on the narrow edge of the seatback. She knew the effect of relief on his neck wouldn’t last long as the pain of the narrow seatback replaced it on his skull, but the illusion would sustain him.
She also wanted him to see her. She wanted him to watch her.
Sitting on the edge of the table, she placed her right hand on his cock through his boxers and began to massage him. He’d been hard as he ate her, but his neck pain caused his erection to fade quickly afterward.
As he slowly grew in her hand, she looked out to the beach. She saw herself walking with him in her mind’s eye. They were holding hands, laughing, in love. Jack made her feel young.
His erection was finally as big as it could be and straining against the fabric of his boxers. Zed abruptly stopped rubbing his cock and walked away. Going to the fridge, she took out an ice-cold bottle of water. Opening it, she took a small sip on the way back to him.
She grasped him again and resumed stroking. With her left hand, she began to pour the water over his mouth and nose slowly. As he struggled to get away from the flow by turning his head from side to side, she cooed, “shhhhhhhh, it’s okay, take it…” softly.
Jack sputtered and coughed but didn’t lose his erection as she continued to stroke him. She loved his cock. Zed wanted it inside her. She wanted all of him inside her.
When the bottle was empty, she retrieved another one from the fridge. Picking up the scissors, she used them to open his boxers from bottom to top. The full nine inches of his phallus sprung free, and she nearly gasped when she saw it. She never grew tired of his cock.
Taking it in hand, she began stroking him again. It felt wonderful. His head was soft; his thick shaft was smooth and veiny. She could feel his power flowing through it.
After a minute, Jack began meeting her strokes with very subtle thrusts, and his pre-cum was flowing steadily. Once again, she began to pour the water over his face, causing him to gasp and struggle against his restraints. Again she comforted him with her reassuring whispers.
She held his cock tightly as he spasmed and thrashed on the table, fighting the water torture and the throbbing between his legs. She was proud of him. He didn’t utter a word as he struggled for breath.
He was ready. He would explode any second now. Releasing him, Zed stopped pouring the water, and seeing that Jack could breathe, left the room to get changed.
She was wet. Zed was always wet around him. Reaching into her suitcase, she withdrew her small vibrator. She didn’t like working when she was this horny, and Jack made her so fucking hot this was already turning into a long day. Her first orgasm wasn’t enough, so she gave herself another, which would also help prepare her for the next event.
Temporarily relieved, she put on the blue polka-dot summer dress that had been provided, along with the white bra and the thigh-high hose; she slipped on the white sandals. Reapplying her bright red lipstick, she made a kissy face in the mirror. She’d never kissed his mouth or tasted his cock, she lamented.
Tying off the white apron as she entered the great room, she saw his penis was flaccid again. She’d been gone 20 minutes. Lighting the candle she found in the box, she held it in her hand as the flame grew. Grasping his cock again, he stirred to life. Causing him to rise, she watched the flame on the long taper sway in the breeze.
Climbing on the table, she mounted him while holding the candle. She began to ride him. Her sandals flat against the table on either side of him. She watched him as she rode him rhythmically. His abs were a work of art. His pecks large and firm. His thick shoulders strained against the straps that held his wrists. He stared back at her. She ground on him, yet he didn’t betray the pleasure he felt.
God, Jack, felt so good. She never wanted to stop. She felt her third orgasm building but had to be wary of him. He had not yet earned an orgasm, but the constant edging had taken its toll on him, and she had to be careful. But god, he was just so good.
“Um…ah,” and there was her third orgasm, quiet and controlled.
Sensing he was close, Zed held the candle over his right nipple at an angle and let the hot wax drip haphazardly over it, encasing it. Letting the wax drip lazily over his chest as she moved toward his left nipple, she felt him tense with each drop. He writhed at each fall as she covered his left nipple. She felt his cock twitch inside her, but her timing was impeccable.
Standing up, she released him from her body, just on the cusp of orgasm. The candle continued to drip onto his stomach as she stood over him, gazing down on him. Drinking in his beauty.
Stepping back, she let the wax touch his bare pubic area. A single drop landed on his glistening cock head. Then she reached his scrotum and lingered there, covering his balls.
His breath sucked into his chest when the drop had reached his prick, but he made no more than a barely audible grunt. Zed looked to the corners of his eyes. Most men teared up when she waxed them. Others screamed the safe word, but not him. He stared fixedly at the ceiling now, boring a hole into it as he fought to regain control over his breathing.
Such an angel, she thought as her wetness grew again. Blowing out the candle, having well covered him, she walked to the kitchen. She took the loaf of leaven bread dough from the counter and placed it in the preheated oven.
Taking up the leash, she reconnected it to his collar before releasing Jack from his bonds. Allowing him to get up on his own, she walked him to the large plush oversized chair in the living room. Leaning him over the back, leaving his muscular ass, still half-covered in his tattered boxers, sticking high in the air.
She bound him by wrist and ankle to the chair, further stretching his limbs apart. His legs were spread wide — his wrists near the floor. The chair back pressed into his stomach.
It wasn’t long before the house smelled of freshly baked bread. It was a wholesome scent that was incongruent with the scene before her. She then cut off his boxers but left his pink socks on. They were cute. Even in pink socks, Jack was manly. She reasoned, letting her gaze drifting over him as she applied lube to the butt plug.
Approaching him from behind, she placed her left hand on the small of Jack’s back. Holding the plug in her right, she began rubbing it up and down the crevasse between his muscular cheeks until it ran smoothly. Reaching his asshole, she slowly pressed the first bulge into him until it was seated. Twisting it, she pushed harder until the second entered him. There were two more bulges. They’d fit, but it’d take time.
He’d taken the first two well enough, and with persistence and patience over the next 45 minutes, she’d finally had it all inside him. Leaving him, she checked the oven timer. The bread was almost done now.
Placing the loaf on the floor in front of him, she slathered it in butter. It smelled of home and homeliness. Wiping her hands on her apron, she stood, looking out the window toward the sea. I suppose all this has something to do with his mother, she thought, but he’d never said. She never asked. It wasn’t her place.
Slicing off the end of the bread, she took a handful of Jack’s hair, lifted him by it, and stuffed the hot buttery crust into his gaping mouth, overfilling it.
“Don’t chew. Don’t swallow.”
The short cane was the last tool in the box to be used, aside from some additional straps. She liked the cane. It cut the air well and was light in her hand.
Approaching him, she gave Jack a playful swat. His ass flinched, but there was otherwise no noise. The second one landed with some force as she tested her swing on him. She revelled at the thought there’d be eighteen more. She wouldn’t draw blood, so never struck in the same spot twice, but she was going to hurt him, alright. Her juices were flowing out of her now, and she could hardly stand it.
He took it well. Jack was red and sore, the welts already swelling by the time Zed was done. Jack was magnificent; Zed could barely contain herself. She’d come while delivering the second last blow but remained silent, letting the feeling pass over her.
She gently withdrew the plug, not wanting to disturb his prostate and make him cum. She ordered him to spit out the bread into a bowl she held and then unstrapped him.
Standing him up, she inspected him. Some of the wax had fallen off. Some clung to him still. His cock head, encrusted with dried pre-cum, wax, and pussy juice from earlier, continued to ooze. His ass glowed bright red. His face appeared calm but weary.
“You have redeemed yourself. You have earned a reward.”
Standing behind him, both facing the ocean, she began masturbating him, all the while whispering, “Don’t move,” in his ear.
He stayed still, and she brought him off quickly, coming in long ropy strings of jizz that shot out of him and landed on the floor three feet away. His sperm covered her hand as she milked him. She continued to rub his cock head and shaft to comfort him. She covered his cock with cum then wiped her sticky palm on his chest.
Jack didn’t move. He was perfection. Licking her fingers behind his back, she wanted to devour him right then. She wanted to throw everything he’d asked for away and pounce on him, but she didn’t. It was over. The events list was complete.
Placing the implements back in the box while he remained in place, she closed the lid and announced,
“It is over. You are free.”
He stood looking out, not moving.
“Thank you.” It was all he said.
She returned to her room without a word as per the usual arrangement. Zed used her tools on herself again, showered and put her bathing suit on. She needed to cool off.
Remaining in her room until the customary knock at her door, she had occupied herself with a magazine. When the knock eventually came, she didn’t respond to it or open the door. It was the man who controlled the house.
“You are free until the car arrives tomorrow at 6:15 AM. If you need anything, I have left a number in the kitchen for you. Thank you.” And so it ended as it always did. She had never been with a man like Jack. His self-control was masterful. She knew he did not enjoy the pain but endured it sublimely.
She had never rewarded him before, but this was his first near-flawless performance, she thought, trying to soothe herself. She rarely rewarded her husband and only then did it on occasion because he would be pathetic for days otherwise. Not that he wasn’t pathetic the rest of the time, but she approached him as one would a disabled child on most occasions.
She’d betrayed herself to Jack. He’d seen it. She’d told him only perfection would be rewarded, and now here she was. She’d rewarded him out of love and not for something he’d earned. She’d let them both down. And because of that, Zed wondered if she’d ever see Jack again, as she applied a fresh coat of her favourite lipstick.