First Meeting - Chapter 6
by SusieQ

Abigail saw Michael the minute they entered the foyer. Michael stopped at the counter and requested Rebecca get the remaining items they had check earlier. Abigail walked up behind Sasha and lifted her soft auburn hair from under the collar of the duster. Gently, Abigail fluffed the curls as the long ringlets dropped over Sasha's shoulders.

"Sasha, are we still going shopping tomorrow?" Abigail asked openly, as if nothing was wrong. Michael tilted his head slightly, listening for her answer.

For the past week that was all Sasha could talk about; going shopping with Abigail. Michael had encouraged the outing, and suggested Abigail as a companion. Over the phone, he and Sasha had laughed and planned some of the the items that were to be purchased.

Sasha didn't say a word.

"Sasha, you may anwswer Abigail," Michael permitted, turning to face them.

"No Mistress," Sasha said softly, her eyes fixed on Michael's boots.

Surprised by her answer, Michael looked at Abigail. She clamped her jaw tight as a shadow of annoyance swept across her face. Michael let out a short sigh, and shot her a twisted smile.

"I will call you later," Michael stated brusquely, "come, Sasha."

Sasha obediantly stayed behind Michael, following him through the ajoining lobby, across the intersection, and into the parking garage. Sasha had barely made it to the correct parking aisle by the time Michael reached the car. The six inch heeled boots were easier to walk in than most of the shoes she had, but with her hands locked behind her it took all of her concentration to stay balanced . More than once she had to lean against a parked car to regain her center of gravity before proceeding.

Michael waited until she arrived to open the door. He pulled the duster tight around her bottom and legs as she turned sideways to enter the car. Once seated, Michael slipped his arm under her thighs, lifting her legs and turning her to face forward in the seat. Taking the seatbelt he stretched it across her chest and buckled her in.

Michael looked down at Sasha as he straightened up. Her bowed head and sullen expression hadn't changed since they had exited the conference room. Michael sat down on the edge of the seat beside her.

"Are you all right?" he asked tenderly. Sasha gave an ever so slight nod.

Michael lifted her chin with his finger until their eyes met. "Sasha," Michael whispered, "talk to me." Slowly her hazel eyes pooled with tears. "Sasha....."

"Do you..... still... want me?" she choked in small, fraile voice as the well of tears overflowed, streaking her cheeks.

Instantly Michael's hands slipped behind her neck, and drawing her forward he passionately pressed his lips to hers. As an onslaught of tears ensued he gently covered her mouth with his, smothering the sobs.

Finally, releasing his embrace, he gazed into her eyes. "Precious, I will always want you," he reassured, and his warm lips again met hers. Each time he kissed her, he whispered the desires and longing he had for each part of her body.

Michael again retreived his handkerchief, wiping Sasha's nose and drying her eyes.

"Michael," Sasha sobbed miserably, "it hurt."

"Punishment generally does," he sympathized, catching another tear as it rolled down her cheek. "Are you all right now?"

A troubled expression overtook Sasha's features as she lowered her head. "I do want to go shopping with Abigail tomorrow," she whispered sadly.

Michael gave a light chuckle. "I will call her later," he said and kissed her forehead.

Slowly, Michael's warm hand moved over Sasha's chest. His fingers repositioning each breast so they rested atop the corset bra. Teasingly he outlined each small globe, bringing the soft nipples to erectness.

Sasha's head came up, and her lips instinctively found their way to his.

Michael's hands caressingly roam downward, and his lips moved to nibble at her breast. Sasha leaned her head back and closed her eyes, her thighs automatcially parting as his fingertips touched the edges of her pussy.

Just as a soft moan of ecstasy slipped from her lips, Michael stopped. Sasha opened her eyes to find him watching her, a lustful grin on his face. Heat rushed from her toes to her nose, turning her cheeks crimson.

"Maybe we should go?" Sasha suggested, noticing that Michael was also well arouse. After placing one last kiss on her lips, Michael's tongue swirled around each taunt dusty pink nipple, leaving them moist and glistening.

Sasha's dimples sliced deeply into her face as she watched Michael adjust his tight leather pants before entering the drivers side of the car.

"Tonight Master," Sasha giggled, "you will be mine."

Michael looked over at her, his smile was wide, and his blue eyes sparkled with a passionate challenge. Reving the motor they left the parking garage and started for the Manor. At the first red light Michael opened the glove compartment and removed a medium sized, egg shaped object. Sasha looked at the object then a t Michael.

"Spread your legs," Michael requested as he toyed with the object and held the steering wheel at the same time.

Compliantly, Sasha parted her thighs, wiggling a bit to loosen the duster. In the length of time it took Michael to drive to the next intersection he opened the object and inserted a small battery. Stopping at the light, Michael pushed back the edges of Sasha's coat, and began to nestle the object into place between the cushioned seat and the lips of her pussy.

"Master, what is this for?" Sasha queried, trying to see what he was doing.

"Sasha, sit back," Michael ordered, "I'll be finished in a moment."

The light turned green, and Michael proceeded to the next red light. He fiddled with the toy between her legs for another minute, looked at the traffic light, then planted a tantalizing kiss on Sasha's lips.

The light turned green, Michael stepped on the gas, and the thing between Sasha's legs came to life.

"Masssterrr," Sasha squealed. Lifting her bottom out of the seat Sasha squirmed, and strained against the seatbelt. "Master, move it, please," she pleaded.

Several minutes later, the toy fell silent, and Sasha plopped back into the seat.

"What is that?" she panted.

"A vibrator," Michael laughed, retrieving his toy. With one hand on the steering wheel, Michael reached over with the other and tightened Sasha's seatbelt; further restricting her movement. "Spread your legs again," he requested.

Sasha's knees snapped together.

"Did it hurt you?" Michael asked, seriously.

Hesitantly, Sasha shook her head.

"Then part your knees."

"No!" Sasha refused, defiantly crossing her legs.

"Okay," Michael replied with a shrug, and pulled the car over to the curb. Taking off his belt, Michael uncrossed Sasha's legs and looped it around them, just above her knees. After drawing the belt tight and buckling it, Michael slipped his fingers into the patch of hair on Sasha's pelvis. Gently he pulled up her pussy, and slid the egg down, pinning it in that tiny space between her thighs and her clitotis. "This time you will sit still, or I will spank you."

"Sir?" Sasha questioned uneasily.

"You heard me," Michael warned, and turned the key in the ignition.

Sasha's lower lip protruded, and she gave Michael a mean frown. Michael caught the look from the corner of his eye.

"I want to play when we get to the Manor, and I want you wet and ready," he commented with a mischievious smile, and pulled out into traffic.

Sasha was still staring at Michael in disbelief when the egg sprang to life again.

"Oooohhh," she gasped, and looked over at Michael who was grinning like a cheshire cat. The vibrations only lasted a few minutes, but still left Sasha panting and moist between her legs.

"Master, I have some questions about this evening," she panted once the buzzing in her crotch stopped.

"Certainly, my Pet," Michael encouraged, brushing the back of his hand over her flushed cheek.

"I heard several people mention something called a safeword. What were they talking about?"

"It is a special word or gesture used as a warning between a Master and slave," Michael answered. Sasha wrinkled her nose at him quizzically. "With each Master/slave pleasure or dicipline session the slave is taken further into their submission, but the Master does not want to injure his slave. The slave willingly endures. The Master may get caught up in his own passions, and begin to push to far. If the slave feels she is at her tolerance limit she may use this safeword to stop the Master."

Sasha nodded her head in consideration. "Why......" Sasha's voice broke off in midsentence as the egg started to buzz. Her eyes widened, her legs stiffened against the floorboard, and she held her breath against the mounting excitment her body was experiencing. Moments later the egg fell silent and Sasha gave a relieved sigh.

"Why haven't we discussed this?" she questioned passed her still clenched teeth.

"There has not been a need for you to have a safeword," Michael replied.

"What about the times you have disciplined me?"

"Those instances were minor, and there was not a need for a safeword," Michael repeated.

Sasha's mouth dropped open. "Minor!" she yelped, "they didn't seem......." Sasha inhaled sharply as the egg surged to life between her legs. "They didn't seem minor to me," she exclaimed struggling to control her voice.

"We will discuss it later," Michael said, and changed the subject. "You really do look remarkable tonight. Galiena was very...."

"I want to discuss it now!" Sasha demanded cutting off his comment.

Michael slowed the car as they approached an intersection, bridling his anger as he waited for the hum of the vibrator to subside before he answered. Once the car was stopped at the light he faced Sasha.

"I said we would discuss it later," he warned harshly. The light turned green, but the car didn't move, and Michael's piercing glare never wavered.< /p>

"Yes Sir," Sasha whispered as the corner of her mouth slowly turned down.

The light turned red again. Michael continued to wait, watching as Sasha's demanding hazel eyes grew large and liquid. "I always had someone close by when you were being disciplined. You were never in any danger."

Sasha blinked as the egg whirred against her, splashing tears passed her dark lashes. Michael gently brushed away the tears with the back of his hand.

"Your safeword will be emerald," he said, and leaned over and kiss her, "we will discuss the rest later."

"Thank you, Michael," Sasha murmured.

The light turned green again, and several horns sounded behind them.

"Hummm," Michael grunted, and straightened around in his seat. Accelerating, he changed lanes taking the East/West on ramp and merged into the flow of traffic. Traffic was sparse this time of night so Michael set the cruise control, and settled back in his seat. Sasha was again squirming, but this time her eyes were closed. Michael cautiously picked up one of the nipple clips, and clamped it securely in place.

"Oooowww!!" Sasha cried out, stiffening against the back of the seat. Michael was delighted with the sudden up thrust position of her chest. The touch of his warm fingers was light and painfully teasing as he began to fondle her breast.

A minute later, Michael realized that Sasha's breathing had changed and she was sitting too still. His fingers quickly wriggled passed her tightly squeezed thighs, and he pulled the buzzing egg free.

"Michael," Sasha whimpered, "I was so close."

"Too close," Michael laughed, "I don't want you to cum, I just want you ready."

Exasperated, Sasha slumped in the seat. "How long before we get to the Manor?"

"Twenty minutes or so. Just cool off a little."

Sasha tilted her head back, and looked over at him. "That's easier said than done." A ray of moonlight caught Michael's deep blue eyes as he glanced at her, and the spark of eagerness she saw excited her even more. "Maybe if you removed the clip, it would help," Sasha suggested hopefully.

"Yes my Pet, maybe that would help," Michael agreed, and removed the clip.

Sasha shuddered as chill bumps covered her arms, then she squirmed about briefly getting comfortable in the seat. Twenty minutes later they were pulling up the driveway to the Manor. Michael opened the garage door as they proceeded up the drive, closing it behind them as he shut the car motor off.

Michael got out of the car and walked around to opened Sasha's door. First he unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her legs, turning her toward the door, and setting her feet on the garage floor. Then he squatted down beside her knees and unbuckled his belt, freeing her legs. Sasha attempted to stand, but Michael didn't move. Instead his warm hands rubbed the spot where his belt had left a mark.

Tenderly he kissed her knees as his hands eased her legs apart. Slowly, his fingers began to knead the inside of her thighs, inching their way upward with each gentle squeeze. Sasha's breathing quickened as Michael's hands moved closer and closer to her moist pussy. The excitment of feeling his hands stroking bare skin set her body tingling. Soon his fingers reached her pleasure spot, their eyes met and his lips melted to hers in a long sensual kiss.

The inside of Sasha's thigh twitched involuntarily, and Michael moved his hand.

"Not yet, my Pet," Michael breathed, and slipped his hands under her arms, lifting her to her feet.

"Give me the duster," Michael requested, walking her to the back door. Sasha looked back at him as the coat slipped from her shoulders. "Wait for me in the kitchen."

Sasha stood in the middle of the kitchen, slowly pivoting clockwise in her six inch heeled boots. "Wow," she murmured to herself, "look at the size of this kitchen."

She was staring at the wonderfully hugh refrigerator, remembering how surprised she was the night Michael told her his address.

....... "Sasha, I've decided it is time for us to meet," Michael informed her, six months after that initial phone call. "There is to be a gathering of my associates a week from Friday night, and I would like you to accompany me."

"Oh Michael, that would be wonderful," Sasha exclaimed.

"I will mail you a small package of accessories for your outfit, and enclose my credit card along with a list of the items you are to purchase to wear for the evening. If you have a pencil, I will give you my address now."

"Yes Sir..... no wait Sir.... aaaah, wait please, Sir," Sasha stuttered, laying the receiver down. Michael could hear her talking to herself as he waited. "I need to get something to write on.... paper....yes, I need paper... and pen.... no pencil."

"I have something to ........" Sasha was talking as she hurriedly reached for the receiver, and sent it clamoring to the floor.

"Sasha, slow down," Michael ordered, once she managed to retrieve the phone.

"But, Master," Sasha protested.

"Sasha!"

"Yes, Master," Sasha sighed, "I am sorry, Sir." Taking a deep, exasperated breath Sasha started again. "I have something to write on now. Would you please give me the address?"

"That's better," Micha el praised, and Sasha's dimples flowered. "The address is 1313 Tynan Drake Lane."

"Where?" Sasha stammered, "but... but.... that's Drakedom Manor!"

"Sasha," Michael grumbled, at her outburst.

...... Sasha's thoughts were a million miles away when Michael entered the kitchen.

"Sasha, are you hungry?" Michael asked, noting that Sasha's eyes were glued to the refrigerator.

"If you are," Sasha answered politely, turning to face him.

"That is not what I asked you."

Sasha wasn't to sure what to say now. She was starving.... Michael was wanting to play...... she hadn't eaten since morning...... Michael had eaten before they left.... she didn't want to impose...... Michael hadn't mentioned meals when he planned this evening.

"I am fine, Master," she sighed, and her stomach literally grabbed her backbone; making an awful sound.

"I believe your stomach disagrees with you," Michael commented, with a significant lifting of his brows. "When did you eat last?"

"This morning," Sasha answered, wrinkling her nose. Michael shook his head, and his mouth curved into an unconscious smile as he stepped around her to the refrigerator.

"Well, you can fix us both a midnight snack," Michael announced surveying the contents of the refrigerator. "Let's see. We have everything we need to make grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. How about that?" he suggested, swinging around to face Sasha.

Sasha nodded.

Michael turned back to the refrigerator and began removing food, placing it on the butcher block counter in the center of the kitchen. Sasha stood watching, totally baffled by Michael's behavior.

How am I suppose to cook with my hands locked behind my back, she thought.

Michael nudged the refrigerator door closed with his toe, set the last item in his hands on the counter, and turned to Sasha.

"Turn around please," he requested, pulling a tiny key from his vest pocket. Sasha just stared at him. "Sasha," he laughed, "turn around."

Sasha slowly turned around, and Michael unlocked her wrist. Gently lowering her arms to her sides, Michael slipped his hands around her waist from behind; pulling her in against himself.

"Next time I say, don't touch something, I mean it," he whispered into her hair. Michael's grip tightened as every muscle in Sasha's body tensed. Turning her to face him, his right hand moved up to the base of her neck, and his left down to her bottom, drawing her close. Slowly his lips came coaxingly down on hers. His kiss was slow and sensual. When he raised his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes. "Understood?"

"Yes, Michael," Sasha whispered.

"Good girl," he praised, and kissed her again.

"Now for some groceries," Michael laughed, gently massaging Sasha's shoulders and arms. "If you will start preparing the sandwiches, I will locate a skillet."


To be continued

© SusieQ 12/13/97



First Meeting: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part14 | Part15


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