The elegant lamps, like glowing, wrought iron flowers in bloom, marked Caroline’s advance. She was so close now — close to the house, close to faltering. Each step was a new torment. ‘A mile in her shoes’ she’d once heard someone say, and she understood it, lived it now. How far the road was behind her she didn’t know, but it seemed like she had walked for miles, the five-inch heels at first feeling snug and looking amazing, now a sight that elicited only pain and a grudging tight-lipped frown. She could do it, she told herself. All she had to do was keep going. Her eyes tracked up, counting each passing lamp, marking her progress. Closer now, she focused on the lights. Four more to go. Three. The house grew with each step, looming like a dark castle, its high, thick columns rising up to be swallowed by the low-hanging branches of the giant oaks. Two lamps now, and the front steps beckoned. Would she just wait there for someone to emerge and take her in? And how much longer could she stand? Her thighs were screaming now, her calves long ago fallen to silent agony. But each shaky step brought her closer — closer to the captivity and freedom she had chosen.
One lamp left to pass. She swallowed, gritted her teeth and watched it loom ever closer, until she noticed another of the lamps to the left around the side of the house. It hung limply over a little black wrought-iron gate, creaking in the evening breeze. Just underneath it, her eyes found Ethan Kingfisher standing in a dark suit and tie, waiting and watching. He leaned casually against the brick gate house there, his broad smile half in shadow. He beckoned, and she altered her course to meet him, a flood of relief cascading down her flesh to meet the rising torment. She grunted and pressed on with renewed energy, trying desperately to stand up straight, to focus and come across as both determined and still elegant, sexy. But she was exhausted, her legs trembling. It had taken almost everything she had to make the walk in those pumps. She was so close, blinking back the tears that threatened to ruin the moment.
“We’ll see how hard you’re willing to work to satisfy me, pet,” he muttered when she was within earshot.
He smiled again, big white teeth between thin lips, the hint of a five o’clock shadow gracing his jawline. When Caroline finally came to a stop in front of him, he pushed off from the brick and faced her with a glint in his eye, a sudden firmness in his mouth. Her glint was gone, if it had ever been there. The walk had taken it out of her, as she knew now it was meant to do. If there was any rebellion festering, when doubt or anger or resentment might still linger, the walk had dispelled it completely. What she felt when she stopped in front of him was acquiescence, compliance, surrender. What she’d not expected but what she found now was a desperate desire to be on her knees, to comply if only to get her feet out of the stilettos and get the treacherous stretch of asphalt behind her forever. The day’s heat and the long walk gave him a woman ready for a command, and she felt it from top to bottom.
But she would have to wait and endure a little longer.
“Ah, Caroline,” he started, taking his time and raising his hand up to touch the ribbon around her neck. “How lovely you look tonight. All pretty in your bow.” His fingers lingered on the silk and then slid lower between her breasts, feeling the slick skin of her stomach until his hand reached its destination and pushed between her legs. She opened her stance instinctively, a little moan escaping her lips.
Were her feet pained from the shift or was she simply aroused and surprised that he would immediately place his hand on her pussy? She couldn’t tell right away, but it didn’t matter any more. His fingers were all she could feel now.
“Good girl.” He stared straight into her eyes, and they smiled back at him. “And wet, I see.”
She mumbled something, then cleared her throat and spoke more clearly the second time. “Yes. Yes, I am. Do you like it?”
“Your bow or your pretty wet pussy?” He smiled again, focusing on her eyes while his fingers spread her open.
Her hips shifted under his touch, involuntarily as far as she knew, and she’d pressed her pussy into his palm before she even knew what she was doing, rocking her hips forward, ignorant of the pain in her legs. His question was already forgotten. All she knew then was that her nipples were hard and throbbing, just like the little nub that had settled into his palm. If only he would lean in and kiss her, she thought. If only he would push his fingers inside her right then—it didn’t make a difference that someone might be watching from the house or even walking by. Let them watch. She was right where she wanted to be. He was so close and yet so far away. She could smell his cologne, subtle and smooth, smell it mixed with the day’s sweat. His navy suit was crisp and cut with an eye for perfection, in sharp contrast to this loosened tie, itself a deep purple that made him look avant garde and dashing. Even if he hadn’t been touching her, she would have been wet.
Stylish dress, serious money, and a sharp mind, she thought—the kind of man that might own a woman as a slave. The kind of Master a girl would want to own her.
Then without warning he stepped forward, his free arm wrapping around her waist, his fingers rocketing up inside her, and he held her close, his hot breath playing across her neck as he whispered into her ear and began to fuck her furiously. She leaned into him for support, the sudden onslaught leaving her breathless and teetering as he drove into her. She moaned around his words. “You are my slave now, Caroline, and you will be my slave for a year starting today. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she breathed, barely able to speak. She was already peaking, the invasion so unexpected and yet so welcome. She wanted to clutch him, to hold on for dear life, to turn her head and kiss him, but she was helpless to do anything except take what he was giving her and listen to his voice.
“I will fuck you, work you, punish you and make your cum at my whim, when and how I want, and you will do only one thing for me in return. Do you want to know what that is, Caroline?”
“Yes,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath. The ferocity of his thrusting was overwhelming her, nothing like she’d ever imagined, certainly nothing like she’d ever felt. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably; she could feel her strength wavering. She wasn’t sure how long it would be before she could no longer hold herself up.
“That one thing that you will do? For me?”
“What will I do?”
“Obey, Caroline. You will obey.”
The word hit her like a bolt of lightning starting at her head and traveling down her body firing off every synapse until it gathered between her legs and exploded.
“Yes.”
“Those are the terms of our contract, pet. Obedience. Are we clear?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“And who am I?”
She saw the word before she spoke it, like a neon light across a dark sky, but it wilted on her lips as she teetered on the precipice of an orgasm. The word came out in a whisper that barely crossed the space between them. “Master.”
“Good girl,” he said, his breath hot on her cheek. “Now come for me, slave.”
Caroline obeyed.
Author’s Note: And so here we are. This is part 5 and actually as far as I’ve ever gone with the story. The rest is an exercise in scheduled creativity because I plan to keep posting every Friday. (The parts average about 1500 words, so that shouldn’t be a problem.)
That’s not to say that I don’t have most of this story planned out; I do. I know how the story goes, and I know how it ends — in fact, I’m very excited for the ending, to be honest. And while I do have a lot of the rest of this story planned out, if you’re a writer, you know that things can go off the rails because, in any chapter, something could happen that you didn’t expect.
I’ve had this happen many times, and it was always fun.
At some point, the characters may take over the story. If you’re not a writer, you may not know about this little odd thing that happens. I don’t expect that to happen with The River, but you never know. I do know that I like the ending of this tale, and I like how things aren’t going to go for Caroline how she thinks they’ll go.
Caroline has been pretty sheltered in her life up til now, little more than a trophy wife, to be quite honest. And she may or may not realize this or even care, but she does know that she’s in over her head. What she doesn’t realize is that Ethan is not what she thinks he is, and therefore she won’t see what’s coming. The story's main thrust (pun intended) is to destroy her world, ruin her expectations, and push her to step up and overcome them. I feel confident she can, but as always, it will get worse before it gets better.
This story will be free all the way, but little tidbits will be added, including some seriously sexy audio snippets for paid subscribers. Either way, expect 40+ episodes, which, at an average of 1500 words, puts this at the low end of novel length.