A bit of trust and a piece of wood

"I know. It's been a while. But, we talk on the phone all the time." At least once a week we talk to each other. We've known each other for a while and are old friends.

"Hard to share a cup of coffee on the phone. Got a pot on right now. It'll be ready in a couple minutes." With that, she led me into the kitchen. "So. What do you want me to make for you? You said you needed my expertise."

Maggie does custom cabinetry and wood working. I had called her for her skills with wood, a few days prior.

I set about explaining that I wanted a good wood, something that would take a bit of abuse and stay true. Something nice looking, but sturdy. She rattled off a bunch of different woods that fit my needs.

"Maggie, I trust your knowledge of timber." I assured her. "You figure out what will work best. I'll go get the drawings and specs I have from the truck."

"I'll have the coffee poured and waiting." She called after me.

When I returned from the truck with my backpack, she was true to her word. Two steaming cups of coffee sat on the table, waiting. Setting the pack down on the table, I pulled out my notebook. Opening it, I slid it over to her.

"Hmm, looks like a cricket bat. Need a strong wood for that. But, the dimensions look all wrong." She said the last part with a mix of curiosity. "And, in different sizes..."

"What are these for?"

"A gift for Dina."

"You're wife?"

"Yes."

"The hell kind of sport is she taking up now? The handles are all wrong for her hands." Maggie asked with a laugh.

"The paddles are for me. SHE, is the sport."

"Ex-cuse me?" Maggie looked at me slightly sideways, with a hint if fire in her eyes. "You BEAT your wife?!" She finished incredulously, slightly raising out of her chair.

"No. I do NOT beat her." I said, in a controlled tone I normally use during
play". Outside a close knit group, no one knows about the other side of Dina's and my relationship. I would have to explain it to Maggie. But, on my terms.

"Maggie, sit down while I explain this to you." The darkness falling over my eyes, and my commanding tone, set her back down. "I am the Master, and Dina is a slave. We have a Master/slave relationship, and that works on the exchange of 'power'. Dina gives me the 'power' to be her Master. I can do nothing, without her allowing it."

"Outside, at work, she is an independent, rock solid, in-command, self-reliant leader. At home though, with me, she gives all her control away. She allows me to be in control of every part of her."

"And because she gives me that power, that control, I command her, I am her Master. And when she misbehaves, or doesn't follow orders, or is just generally being cranky or bitchy, it is up to me to rebuke and discipline her. She finds that a great aphrodisiac."

"Hence, the paddles. She tends to need discipline on a regular basis."

I could see Maggie digesting the whole relationship involved. Not easy to do when the person you knew, is not the person you now know. "Maggie, do you trust me?"

In the course of heartbeats, a war was waged, and won, in her head. "Sure. Always have, always will." Then with narrowed eyes, she asked, "Why?"

"Let me show something to you."

"What?"

"Follow me." I said. Then, reaching into my pack, I pull out a short bit of rope I always keep handy. After all, you never know when you'll need it. And I led her to the dining area just off the kitchen, a total of ten feet away from where we just sat.

Standing there, looking at the rope, then at me, she asked, "Okay. Now what?"

I spun one of her straight-backed chairs around to face the kitchen area. "Sit." I commanded, in a gentle tone. Still looking at me, she sat down.

"You trust me not to hurt you, right?" She nodded a little hesitantly. "Good. Put your hands behind your back and don't move." When she did, I wrapped the rope loosely around both of her wrists and tied it off.

She questioned me with her eyes.

"First, I am going to show you something. Then, I plan on talking to you"

I put my fingertips on her arms, at her elbows. "Now, close your eyes, and keep them closed. If what I am doing gets too out of control for you, and it will test you, then say your first two names, completely. That is your 'safe word'. You say that, I stop everything, untie your wrists, and leave. Understood?"

She licks her lips nervously. "Yes," she replies.

"Good. Now I am going to move my fingers up your arms." And as I say those words, I slowly trace upwards with my fingers. Goosebumps break out on her arms and a light shiver chases through her.

"With butterfly-wing kisses, I am going to trace your face." And I do. Bringing my finger tips up her neck, and around the outsides of her ears, and across her forehead. I lift my fingers off at the top of her face.

"Nervous?"

"A little."

"That's fine. Just remember your safe word."

Touching her sides with my fingers, just above her belt line, she jumps slightly. "Now. With a lighter touch than you felt already, I am running my fingers up your sides, towards your armpits." With the rib-knit shirt she is wearing, I can see the muscles in her sides expand as she takes a deep breath of air. Her back arches slightly and she pushes her chest forward from the effort.

"Now I am tracing the edge of your bra. Up to the top and down the center. Now across the bottom to the outer edge. I am going back to the top and bringing my fingers down to your nipples. Circling them ever so lightly and now dragging my nail straight across them."

In spite her small breasts and padded bra, the outlines of her nipples were clearly visible. Maggie's breathing was labored as well.

"Still okay?" I asked.

After licking her lips and swallowing, she replied in a husky tone, "I'm fine".

"Good. I'm going to touch your knees now." And I brought my fingers to the outsides of her knees. "I'm going to bring them to the insides of your knees and push them apart. Remember your safe word?"

"Yes." She replied a bit breathy.

I pushed on her knees until her legs were fairly wide apart. "I am tracing your inseam with angel light pressure. Up your thighs to your crotch. Ever so gently. Now I am dragging my fingernail up and down your crotch seam. Feel the vibrations there?"

"Yes," she gasped. Her body was starting to shiver visibly. The start of the first letter of her name was on her lips. But Maggie never completed it.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes." The word came out explosively. Maggie was starting to pant a little for air.

"Do you need to use your safe word?"

"No." Then, after a moments hesitation, "How much more is there?"

"A little bit. Then we're done. Are your excited?"

"Yes."

"Well then. We're almost there. While I'm scratching on your inseam, I'm going to bring my other hand up to your side and trace back up to your chest."

I touched her side, just above the belt line, again. "Feel my fingers tracing back up to your breast. Straight across from the side this time. I don't think you need me to take the scenic route around your bra. Feather light and ticklish, I go up your side and across to your nipple."

Maggie's breathing is ragged now. Licking her lips and panting, her body is trembling of its own accord, the excitement level has gotten so high.

"Maggie? Open your eyes." I tell her.

As she does, it takes her a moment to focus, between the haze of her excitement, and the sudden burst of light after keeping her eyes closed for so long. When she does focus, she sees me sitting in the kitchen, my legs crossed and the cup of coffee in my hands. Confused, she blinks several times and shakes her head. I stand and move the chair closer to her, and sit back down.

"You and Dina are a lot alike. You're both head-strong, independent people, that need a Master; someone to share power with."

"You've had a dozen serious relationships and a couple marriages. Every one ended the same, physical, emotional and mental abuse. You try to give them the power to control you, and they take it. They don't share though. And when you try to back them off when they push too far, they still can't stop taking. They do not have the control, so they end up hurting you. What you've ended up finding, is bullies, not Masters."

"While you were sitting here, after touching your arms and face, I only touched you here, here, and here." Touching her on the waist, on the knees, and one last time on the waist. "No where else. The rest of the time, I only talked to you and enjoyed the coffee."

Surprise and confusion battled on Maggie's face, trying to absorb the events that happened. And as the war raged on, I untied her wrists and dropped the rope back into the backpack.

Turning, I looked at her. "That's, what a Master can do for you. Think about it."

Picking up the pack, I opened the door and reached outside. I pulled my arm back in and deposited two rolls of wrapping paper against the wall. One was black, with white handcuffs, whips, and stockades printed on it. The other was the negative image of the first.

Over my shoulder, I told Maggie, "Have them done, wrapped and delivered by late morning, next Saturday. The prints and sketches are on the table, along with enough to cover the material and expenses. See you then."

And I left.

to be continued...