Vanilla No More

[Calyxxx]

Phyn fell silent again, trying to think of a good question. She knew she had to come up with something decent.

Finally, she spoke again.

"Why have You chosen the life You have? Why become Master?"

 

[ezwriter]

"Why have You chosen the life You have? Why become Master?"

An excellent question my dear. And the short answer is: because it gives me pleasure. To have my needs served; to have my will served.

What is life but the commerce of power? Having it, holding onto it, showing others what you have. To have a beautiful woman at his side is a sign of power for a man. When you walk into a room, all men desire to be you. Look at the trophy wives you see around here - young women with much older, much richer men. They've bought that affection. If a younger, richer, better looking man comes along they'll be gone.

But your affection, my dear, I've earned. Because your attachment to me isn't over something as trivial as money; it's about something deeper. My hold on you is absolute, and you will never leave me. And that certainty and that power are things I think all men would want.

Look I handed you $10,000 this afternoon. You could have left me. I don't know your name or anything about you. I'd never see you again. And you came back.

So to answer your question, it's the devotion of beautiful women I crave, just as you crave giving it."

He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing it firmly.

 

[Calyxxx]

Phyn smiled and blushed a bit as he took her hand and kissed it. She couldn't hide the grin on her face and for a moment completely forgot that her panties were sitting out on the table. She picked up her wine glass again and had another sip.

 

[ezwriter]

The panties, though, remained on the table... when he ordered for her, when they were served, when the wine was refilled - there for the waiters and captain and busboys to see and, no doubt, comment on in the kitchen.

Wine might inure her to the indignity of it tonight, but she would need to find a more essential defense to it - a strength or resignation - if she was to become truly his.

And there they lay at last when the leather folder with the bill was set upon the table and picked up and returned again. And only when Master pocketed his credit card did he also grab the thong from the table and stash it in the pocket of his sport coat.

He took her hand and escorted her out. And indeed she noticed that heads turned as they crossed the dining room. A gentleman and his gorgeous prize. Though few could guess that once inside the black Porsche, this elegant beauty would be made to draw her hands behind her back so that they could be chained to her neck collar. That without asking, she slid her knees apart so that her Master could slide his large, strong hand up her thighs to caress her sex.

And none could guess their destination - a dimly lit club in a questionable neighborhood named Cuff'd. Where he brought the roaring motor to a halt and led his slave inside.

 

[Calyxxx]

Phyn breathed what seemed to be a gulp of air she had been holding all night as she watched her master finally pick up and pocket her thong. She smiled to herself as they walked from the restaraunt and obeyed eagerly as her hands were chained to her collar. They reached the club and she stepped from the vehicle, much more confident in her role in life than the last time she had been there. She stole a secret glance up at his face as they stepped through the door.

 

[ezwriter]

Phyn breathed what seemed to be a gulp of air she had been holding all night as she watched her master finally pick up and pocket her thong. She smiled to herself as they walked from the restaraunt and obeyed eagerly as her hands were chained to her collar. They reached the club and she stepped from the vehicle, much more confident in her role in life than the last time she had been there. She stole a secret glance up at his face as they stepped through the door.

Once inside, he took hold of her long black French braid and led her across the dark, crowded club. Here again, all heads turned as Jess returned with his prize in tow - now dressed to kill, trained to serve, a master's prize.

He wouldn't kneel her on the floor - not in this pricey gown. Instead, he led her to his booth and bent her at the waist over his table so that the toes of her shoes rested on the floor, but her belly and torso and face lay flat on the table.

Jess hiked up her dress to expose her ass and pussy to all and slid into the booth. "Let's see what sort of bees your pretty flower attracts," he mused, grazing his fingertip over her elegant features.