“Yes… At least, for today… my Lord. I looked you up. I had learned you had separated, and that you were selling the farm. I thought I’d give you a little surprise.”
“A very pleasant surprise,” I laughed. From where I was, I saw a smile cross her lips. “We will go inside the house. I will need to decide if I want you.”
Her smile froze and her body tensed. “It’s always a power exchange. Not just that you are willing to give yourself to me, but that I am willing to take and accept you.”
There was a deep exhalation of relief. “Of course, my Lord. As you have always taught me.”
I stood up and dusted the barn floor’s dirt from my jeans. “How much do you still remember, swallow?”
“Everything, my Lord. You made sure of that with your palm, your strap, your paddle and your flogger.”
“On your feet then, and follow me.”
She scrambled to her feet, picked up her clothes that had been neatly folded nearby, and took her place two paces behind me to my left side, and her head down. We crossed the yard and I opened the front door. She walked through, stepped to the side, and waited until I was inside as well.
“Off you go to the kitchen. My green tea.” I could not resist a firm swat to her backside. The resounding smack of flesh echoed through the almost empty house.
I settled into my chair. It was positioned facing the kitchen so I could see her. She was little changed from 18 years ago. She had essentially the same figure that I could remember, but I could also tell that she wore the badges of motherhood; those wider hips, pendulous breasts and pleasantly jiggly bits that oscillated as she moved. And unlike the energetic youthfulness of years past, there was a refined grace about her movements around the kitchen. The red palm print from my smack added a hint of colour.
She came back into the living room with my tea in both hands, gliding in with perfect form. She dropped to one knee upon approaching the right of my chair, then her second knee, before resting back on her heels. Her head down and her back straight, she brought the cup up to her lips. She kissed the rim lightly, and then offered it up to me, so the cup was at my hand level. “Your tea, my Lord.”
I looked down at her kneeling form and appreciated that she remembered everything. Almost everything. She had knelt down with her knees slight apart so as to offer me a tantalizing glimpse of her pubes. I used the toe of my boots to nudge her knees together. There was a brief flash of dismay on her face, but also understanding, as she completed her service form. I accepted my tea.
“18 years, my swallow. Tell me about the years since we were last together.”
She had followed her heart and had a full life. Love, betrayal, adventure, dismay, joy, and grief. She experienced and learned from other Doms and Mistresses. But she found true love, parked away the D/s lifestyle, became a doting mother, and embraced the calling of domestic suburban housewife. But with her children growing older, she had begun to hear the call of submission from deep in her soul.
I shared with her what I did when I had also moved on. In the early years after she left, I had tried to find another sub to replace her. While I enjoyed those times, those subs were not her. Along with focusing on my career, I too had found love and shelved my dark passions. But I eventually realized that fatherhood and even marriage, were just not my thing, so I was on my own again.
“I have not forgotten you, my Lord. You were my first Dom and Master. To me, you will always be my only one. Our paths had branched 18 years ago, and the Fates had determined we were to cross paths again.”
“And your family? Your husband?”
“He knows. I have been open to him and he knows about our past. But he also knows he can’t be my Lord and Master. So we have come to a mutual understanding. That every once in a while, I can serve a Dom… that I can serve you.”
I walked to the hall closet, and returned with the blue Rubbermaid container bin. I opened the lid. I laid out the two pairs of wrist and ankle cuffs. The black latigo leather, oversewn with bright red straps and polished chrome fittings still looked almost new. “15 years, my swallow. That’s how long it’s been since I had last used them. But I do maintain them every year to make sure they remain in good condition.” The matching triangular collar came next. “You were the last one to wear this. No one else deserved to serve me in them.” Finally, I laid out the strap and the flogger. These were the most basic and fundamental tools I had and all that were needed.
“I remember them, my Lord,” she said. “Please accept me… You must!”
“You are presumptuous!” I growled.
“Oh! This sub begs for forgiveness at her indiscretion.”
I noticed an old wooden clothespin at the bottom of the bin. She always had sensitive nipples. I wonder… Although her eyes were downcast, she saw me bring the clothespin up, opening them, and approach her. Before she could react, I had them on her left nipple, slowly letting them close around the berry sized nipple. “Stay in position and do not move!” I commanded, before letting my fingers go.
She swayed and hyperventilated with short rapid breaths. A plaintive mewling escaped her lips. “How does that feel? Yellow, red? Or will you call SAFEWORD?”
“Re… re… yellow, my Lord!”
“You have become soft. You used to wear brand new ones with springs that were fresh, on both nipples and your clit while being flogged and you would call green?”
“It has been… too long, my Lord!”
It certainly has, I thought to myself. By then, I had counted 30 seconds. I flicked my hand sharply against the clothespin so it flew off the nipple with a snap. She shrieked. Yet she remembered enough of her training, and she did not immediately move to soothe her anguished nipple. She maintained her position, kneeling in place albeit slightly hunched and with a sway. But she had kept her hands down on her thighs, clenched into tiny fists.
“Yes, you have softened, but there is hope. There are some things that you still remember. So for today, I will consider your request for submission.”
There was a pause, as she pulled forth the memories from her past. She looked up at me as she tried to remember the words. “My Lord Falcon. I, swallow, humbly submit myself, my body and my mind, to you totally.” I waited, and she realized what she forgot. “For… today.”
“I accept you as my submissive, swallow. For today. Eyes down and kneel for binding!” Her head snapped back down with a smile on her lips.
She assumed the commanded position, still kneeling, but moving off from sitting on her feet. Her knees and ankles were side by side. She straightened her arms in front of her, wrists crossed, angled up to me. This positioned allowed me to easily place the wrist and ankle cuffs on her. As I finished the final strap on her ankle, I gave her thigh a gentle slap. She easily remembered that was the command to resume her submissive kneel. Again, she knelt with her knees apart, showing me that pink furrow she knew I loved.
I tapped her knees again with my boot’s toe. “Yes, you want it badly, my swallow. Wearing my cuffs, kneeling there, you want to be used,” I said. “But I’m your Lord and Master for today, and until you show me you are a worthy submissive that deserves it, you’re not getting fucked.”
She pressed her knees together. While it may have been many years since she had submitted to anyone, I knew her much better than that. She needed more than a simple clothespin. If she thought she could just waltz back in, thinking I would go easy while we reminisced… No, she needed, wanted and expected much more from me, and I would not disappoint her. She blushed, as she realized I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“As always, we will have a safeword, which if used by yourself or me, will halt all proceedings. The safeword is SAFEWORD. The two control words are YELLOW for caution, RED for limit. Understood?” It did not matter how well we knew each other. I always placed safety first, for both of us.
“Yes, my Lord!” There was a slight pause before she finished quietly with: “This sub will not call safeword today.”
I smiled. Yes, that was the swallow I knew so well. “As for the collar, you will not wear my collar until I deem you have truly earned the privilege to wear it again.”
“Yes, my Lord!”
I picked up the clothespin from where it had flown off her nipple. Playfully I squeezed it open and close a couple time. I could tell she was watching me even while she dutifully looked downward. “You still remember, that a submissive belongs totally to her Master?” I opened the clothespin and held it to her other nipple.
“Yes, this sub is yours.”
I slowly let the clothespin grab her nipple, until it hung on by itself. “That I may, and will, touch you, command you, punish you, as I see fit?”
Her breathing became rapid short breathes again. “Yes, my Lord!”
“On your feet then… quickly! Back straight and chest out!” I snapped. She scrambled to obey. And just as she completed her move, I flicked the clothespin off her. She managed to stifle her shriek this time, resorting to simply sniffles as she fought back tears.
But I also knew that training was never just about pain. I leaned down and took that bruised nipple in my mouth, engulfing it in wet warmth. My tongue gently moved in circular swirls over the perky nubbin. Then I moved to the other nipple and repeated the tongue bath. Her sniffles quickly turned to sighs, and a deep purr came from deep within her.
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