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Owned Intro and Chapter one

Owned
Introduction

Slipping the red dress over her head Emilea took notice of her heart pounding, almost painfully so, against her breast. It seemed strange to her that her reactions were so magnified, her own senses heightened at just the thought of getting ready to see him. Taking a slow deep breath she tried to calm herself knowing that Sir would not want her getting worked up before she was in his presence. She looked in the mirror, surveying herself, her fingers tracing the beautifully engraved silver jewelry that adorned her neck. Smiling absently, her eyes closed, recalling the day that Sir had blessed her with the gift of her collar. Her skin felt so alive, almost electrically charged as she thought of him, a surge deep in her middle caused her to gasp, the sound bringing her quickly back to her senses.
Taking the hairbrush from the counter she pulled it through her long dark hair, feeling it tug with a bit of resistance as she did. This simple act caused her to gasp as her mind flashed to the image of Sir, gently pulling her hair as he showered her with pleasing sensations. Her body began to tremble. It would not be long now until he arrived home. She was to be ready and waiting for him. Those were his instructions. He had laid out the red dress for her and left a note that she was to put it on at 6pm and be knelt waiting for him at the front door when he arrived at 6:30. As she glossed her lips pink she took note of the time and began making her way to the door, turning off each light as she went. She left only the lamp in the entryway on. Laying the kneeling cushion next to the door, she took her position. The clock read 6:29. The anticipation of his arrival was almost unbearable. Her body trembled as she watched the clock. The digital readout finally flashing to the moment she had been waiting for, 6:30, and with that she heard Sir's key turn in the lock.



Chapter 1
Magic

James left work promptly at 5:45 knowing that Emilea would be waiting at the door for him when he arrived home. His father had drilled it into his head that a man's word was his honor. To be tardy in ones arrival was to figuratively say to the party waiting, “My time is far more valuable than yours. I will arrive at my pleasure and it will be your pleasure to wait for me.” James's father never tolerated such treatment of anyone, by himself or his children.

As he walked to the car he recalled returning a girl home late from a date when he was in high school. Her father had said she was to be home by 9pm. His dad and hers had been in the Navy together for many years and had remained close friends until his fathers death. They had left the coffee shop and arrived in the young girls driveway at 8:58, leaving what he thought to be plenty of time for a good night kiss at the door. He had hesitated in leaning in to kiss her, filling the time with nervous chatter about school and sports before he finally worked up the nerve to plant his lips on the teenage vision that stood before him. It was a moment in time that to this day brought a smile to him.

He returned to his car for the drive home, the trip being but a small distraction from the smell of cherry lip gloss and the lingering sense of her on his lips. When he finally arrived home he entered the house to find his father sitting in the darkened living room. “Why are you up dad?” He could feel the angst tugging at his stomach, knowing that his father was not waiting up to hear about soft lips or the sweet fruity smell of lip gloss. His father stood up slowly from the chair, facing James. “What time did Mr. Ellsworth tell you to have his daughter home?” James thought for a moment, fighting through the brain fog that was Christina Ellsworth. “Um, I believe he said 9pm dad. Yes, I am sure of it, 9pm. I got her home in time. In fact when I pulled into her driveway it was 8:58. I remember checking the time on my watch.” His father studied him sternly. Looking up and down his narrow frame, almost sizing the boy up. “James Mr. Ellsworth called me. I know that you did not get Christina home by 9.” James stared at him rewinding the events in his mind, knowing that he had gotten the young lady home on time. “James, when a man tells you to have his daughter home by 9pm that means inside the house, on the other side of the locked door. It does not mean that she is standing on the front porch being malled by a teenage boy until 9:02. Since you saw fit to dishonor this young lady, yourself, and your family by not respecting Mr. Ellsworth's wishes, you will be confined to this house for two months, a month for each minute that he had to await his daughter's safe return to the inside of his home.” It was hard lessons like this that had imprinted within him a strong sense of character and an abiding respect for his fellow man.

As he merged onto the interstate his mind was filled with thoughts of Emilea. She was the love of his life. He had known it from the first moment that they had met. She was wearing the red dress as she walked past him. They were both at a friends wedding but did not know each other. James had hoped that she was crossing the room to talk to him but it had not been so. She was heading over to visit with a group of women who had gathered for the bouquet toss. He watched her as she smiled and laughed with her friends. Her eyes twinkling with excitement, her cheeks blushed pink by the champagne, and her smile playing warmly across her face. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was a vision. She looked away from her friends unexpectedly and she caught him, watching her, adoring her from across the room. She looked down nervously to avoid his stare but he could see that she was still smiling, her cheeks warmed with blushing from the unexpected gaze of a stranger.

James couldn't stand it. He had to meet her. When the foolishness of the flower toss was over he made his way toward her, drawn by some invisible force, unable to resist the urge to bask in her sunlight. She turned around just as he closed the distance between them. He was standing too close for comfort but unwilling to step back from her. He was caught up in her eyes for too long, creating an awkward silence. “Hi my name is James, I am a friend of the groom, um, would you like to dance?” As her lips parted to answer he was overcome by his need to hold her. He took her hand and lead her swiftly to the dance floor leaving her friends staring after them and Emilea looking back shaking her head at them not knowing what this crazy man was up to. As they arrived at the dance floor all she could say was, “Emilea, my name...is um...Emilea.”

He took her in his arms on the dance floor pulling her small frame in close to his. Taking her hand in his, he held it just inches out from his shoulder, his other hand taking charge of the small of her back, easing her in closer to his body. She stared at him, her big brown eyes trying desperately to figure out what had just happened. Her lips parted slightly, he could hear her breaths quicken with the excitement of being taken to the dance floor unexpectedly by a stranger. He stared into her eyes, studying her, not speaking a word. His vision expanded as his own deep breath pushed him back from her a bit. He never looked away from her eyes, but his own could not help but see her chest expanding with air, each breath commanding the rise and fall of her full breasts. Every ounce of energy within him was atune to her. He could feel his heart beating strong in his chest, as though it was trying to escape him wanting to be closer to her. Suddenly feeling dizzy, he realized that he hadn't taken a breath in some time. Without regard for the fact that her effect on him would be evident, he drew in a sharp deep breath letting it fill his lungs and push away the sense of light headedness that was becoming more and more overwhelming.
He closed his eyes, focusing on his other senses, wanting to experience her fully in that moment. He could smell her perfume. The scent becoming stronger and stronger as her body heated, betraying her by reacting to this man who she did not know. The sound of her breaths coming more quickly as her senses became more acute, her arousal for him building. The feel of her trembling hand clinging tightly to his in an attempt to steady herself. James opened his eyes dreamily, staring again into hers. She stared into his searching him, trying to find something that would explain this deep connection she was feeling. He looked at her and spoke softly, “Emilea, close your eyes, I am going to kiss you now.” Her eyes widened, was he serious, she wasn't just going to close her eyes because he told her to, though she found herself secretly wanting to comply. James looked at her, taking her in, his eyes piercing through her. He spoke again, slightly louder, but gently, ensuring that she had heard “Emilea, close your eyes.....do it now.” Emilea could not resist. She let the champagne take its hold, no longer wanting to fight the weight of her eyelids as they slowly veiled the image of the man before her. She could feel the surge of what seemed an electric current shoot from her stomach down through the deepest parts of her at the anticipation of his kiss on her lips. She felt his hand on the small of her back, firmly pulling her into him, and though she knew she should resist, the resolve to do so was not in her. James leaned in, brushing her soft lips with his own. He kissed her gently at first, not wanting to cause her to have an obvious reaction that would draw attention to her and cause her embarrassment in front of her friends.

As he kissed her, he felt her body relax slightly, her breasts pressing against his chest, her stomach pulled in close to his hips, her lips yielding to his. With that, his passion for her overtook him and he took her mouth with his own, the taste of her soft pouty lips, her soft tongue sliding over his bottom lip in search of his, his tongue meeting hers with enthusiasm. He was so involved in this passionate exchange that he didn't even realize it when the band stopped playing. They stood on the dance floor kissing, consumed one with the other, until they heard one of the band members, who had been drinking, say “Hey you two, I don't play drums in your bed, don't fuck on my dance floor!” With that the guests burst out laughing, many of them having enjoyed to excess, the open bar. The raucous laughter jolted Emilea and James back to reality. They separated, standing next to each other, looking back at the crowd. James could feel that Emilea was wishing that the floor would open up and consume her from this spectacle that he had created.

His heart immediately filled with guilt over having embarassed her. He playfully took her hand and pulled her in close to him whispering in her ear as he did, “I am going to spin you around, once it's done....bow.” Emilea took hold of James's hand and spun around gracefully. When she came to a halt, standing there holding James's hand, he looked at her and said Emilea, bow.” With that they both bowed deeply and graciously to the crowd. Everyone watching the display burst into loud applause at the site of the couple bowing to their adoring fans. Emilea looked at James, smiling, relieved as the guests went back to talking and visiting as though nothing so interesting had happened. It was a magical memory. He had never been so affected by anyone. She was beautiful, inside and out. She had an energy about her that was impossible to resist. The memory filled him with an intense desire to be near her. There was nothing that he found more pleasing than having Emilea in his arms. His face buried in her soft brown hair, smelling her, taking her in.
As he drove down the expressway toward home, thoughts of work filled his head. He tried to push them away and focus on the pleasant images of he and Emilea, but there was no fighting it. The thoughts flooded into his brain filling him with angst and worry. What had Michael Anders been doing in his office? Why was he going through his files? What was he looking for? Things had gotten very strange this afternoon. Why was his key card not working in the secured zones? Something was not right and he intended to figure it out...but not now. As he turned into the driveway he redirected his attention to his beautiful submissive wife, who would be waiting for him just inside the door.

Chapter 2
Untitled

James opened the door. There she was, kneeling, clothed in the red dress. His heart was overcome with love for her. He closed the door, laying his keys on the entryway table. He bent over and gently kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. He knelt down on the floor in front of Emilea, and took her in his arms. As he held her tightly he could feel the stress of the day melt off of him. She let out a long sigh, letting his comfort wash over her. “I missed you my Sweet Sir.” “Oh Emilea, my angel, I missed you too baby. Look at you! You are a vision, just like the day I first saw you.” James leaned back, looking at her, taking her in. He stood up, pulling her up to her feet as he did, taking her hands and stepping back from her to survey this precious gift with which he had been blessed. “Emilea, you couldn't be more pleasing to me, do you know that?” She smiled broadly, blushing.
He loved that. He loved that she still blushed, that she was still so affected by his words. “James, I missed you all day long. I was so excited this morning, when I found your note with the instructions. I just knew you had something special in mind for me. What is it! Tell me!” He loved her enthusiasm. She was every bit as in love with him as he was with her. He considered it his high honor to make sure that Emilea was happy and well cared for, and she surrendered herself to him joyfully. They had the kind of relationship that others only dreamed of. “Well Lil One, if I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?” He smiled coyly at her, knowing that the anticipation was driving her crazy.


“Now, if you open the front door I think you will find something on the porch that you might like. If you will take care of that matter, I will run upstairs and clean up a little so we can leave. We wouldn't want to be late now would we?” He took Emilea's face in his hands and kissed her, first on
the forehead, then her nose, then finally her soft lips. Placing his finger under her chin, James tilted her
head up so that he could look into her eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for? Don't you want to know
what your surprise is?” She smiled, kissing him quickly then hurrying to the front door. James left her to her discovery and ascended the stairs to ready himself for their date.

Emilea opened the door. She knew what to expect. If there was a present on the front porch for her it was always flowers. James had always made sure she had her favorite flowers on date night. She loved that he was always so thoughtful, never taking her love for granted. She opened the door to find a large vase full of white daisys, her favorite. Picking them up she noticed something strange. One of the flowers had been taken from the vase and laid carefully on the porch railing toward the back of the house where the porch wrapped around. “That's strange” she thought aloud. “I wonder why he put a flower over there?” She walked to the corner of the porch and picked it up, held it to her nose and smelled it. Nothing was there other than the daisy. “Hmmmm. Well that's strange.” Emilea put the flower back in the vase and turned to walk in the house, but stopped as she caught a glimpse of something moving at the edge of the porch, just past the steps. Turning quickly to investigate, she saw that nothing was there. “Must have just been my imagination” she said under her breath as she walked back inside.

James stood in the bathroom staring into the mirror. His hair was peppered with grey. He could see that the “smile lines” on his face had grown deeper since he had fallen in love with Emilea. Lines that he displayed joyfully every time he so much as thought of his sweet bride. James stood, lost in his thoughts, taking his personal inventory, when he heard the closet door close. He smiled, wondering what “extra touch” Emilea had decided to add. She needn't do anything more than draw sweet breath for James to find her beautiful. He finished tying his tie and turned to go into the bedroom, to see what his sweet girl was up to. He surveyed the room with a puzzled look. “That girl is quick....what did she do, just grab something from the closet and bolt down the stairs?” He laughed to himself. He took note of the open window. “She is terrible for leaving windows open.” He smiled, finding amusement in her absent mindedness. Closing the window he made note to put the screens in sometime next week. It was getting warm and it wasn't wise to have windows standing open at night. Bats were pesky little creatures that were notorious for finding there way into open windows, and Minnesota nights were often plagued by these “flying rats.”
James buttoned his jacket as he descended the stairs. Emilea was in the dining room putting the large vase of flowers on the table. She was so beautiful, smiling, humming quietly to herself. He often wondered how he got to be so lucky. A beautiful wife, a comfortable home, wonderful family and friends, and a good job....his mind wandered again, thoughts of work intruding into his mind. He pushed them from his mind. He was determined not to be distracted by work. Emilea was his focus and he would not be deterred in making her feel loved. He walked up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, nuzzling in close to her neck. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
She jumped at his sudden presence. “James, you scared me!” She turned to face him. Smiling as she delivered a playful punch to his chest. James leaned in closer to her, kissing her lips softly, then becoming more possessive as he felt her lips yield to his. She tasted so good. Her lips soft, her tongue intoxicating as it entwined with his. James slid his hands down grabbing her bottom, lifting her dress to explore her soft skin. Emilea gasped. James could feel goosebumps rise on her skin as he slid his hands up the small of her back. He continued his ascent hooking the hem of her dress as he went and pulling it over her head. She raised her hands as he continued kissing her. Sliding the dress up the length of her arms, he stopped at her wrists, pulling her arms back slightly and letting the dress fall so that it encircled them. James abruptly stopped kissing her. “Stay just like that Emilea, keep your arms over your head while I look at you.” She shivered from head to toe, her chest flushing with heat as he took a step back and admired her naked form. He took his finger and traced down her body from her collarbones, down between her breasts, past her naval to the line where her panties would have been, had she had been permitted to wear them.
James had told her after they had gotten married that there was no need for her to wear panties anymore, her head had spun at the idea. “Not where any panties. Well I have to wear them.” Why? James inquired. “Well...I ..I mean...I... its ..I ..I don't know... I just have to.” James had smiled at her. Loving that she held nothing back from him. “Why do you have to?” He always pushed her to consider everything he said. To really examine why she thought the way she did, why she made the choices that she did. He had opened her mind to so many things, freeing her of small encumberances that did nothing but bind her. “Well, I don't know, I guess I just always have.” She had looked at him with big doe eyes. “Do you like wearing them Emilea?” She thought about it for a few minutes. “Well, I never considered whether I 'liked' it or not. I have just always worn them. Sometimes out of necessity of course, but most times just because I always have.” James smiled. What a beautiful creation she was. She always impressed him with her willingness to consider new ideas. “Well lil one, I would like to suggest that you only where them if necessary from here forward. Can you do that?” Emilea had removed her panties at that moment, not even questioning his suggestion. In fact, she had so loved the freedom of not wearing underthings that she now wore a bra only when modesty called for it.

James admired her form, taking her in. Every bit of her. He started at her feet, noticing that she
was curling and uncurling her toes in anticipation of what he might do next. Then her legs, trembling slightly, with goosebumps standing out from just above her knees claiming every inch of her skin the rest of the way up. Then her hips, curving softly, gracefully up to her waist. The indentation providing the perfect resting place for his hands on so many intimate occasions. Looking further up to her breasts, full, inviting, with pink nipples standing out in excited expectation of his touch. His gaze trailing up her chest to the sensitive skin just at and beneath her collarbones. This area being one of his favorites, as the slightest touch or kiss would elicit soft moans and shivers of delight through her entire body. He admired her shoulders as they blended up perfectly to her neck. He stared at the curve just beneath her chin, territory that most people disregarded, not realizing how charged with sensation such an inconspicuous spot could be. Emilea would tilt her head back at the slightest of touches to that part of her neck, inviting him to kiss her there.
He raised his own chin so that he could stare at her lips, as his gaze drew ever closer to her eyes he could see that she was growing weak in the knees. He moved in close to her, taking her firmly in his arms as she let out a sigh of relief, unable to endure his loving inspection any longer. He took the soft round fullness of her bottom in his hands and lifted her swiftly onto the table, laying her back as he did, so that she could rest her outstretched arms over her head. As he continued taking in the art that was “Emilea” he began removing his own clothing. He pulled out of his jacket and hung it neatly on the back of one of the chairs. She watched him as he painstakingly removed each article of clothing, folding it neatly and laying it on the adjacent chair. The table was cold against her skin, though not unpleasant. James had taught her to perceive things as they were, without assigning “good or bad” to them. The hard oak pressing up against her back provided a pressure that was not unlike the firm hold that James would sometimes take of her as they were making love, steadying her as he took her hard.

The correlation reminding her that “hard” was often a very pleasant thing. He removed his slacks, creasing them carefully. Emilea could not hide her displeasure at his slowness any longer. “Jamessss, do you have to move so slowly?? James smiled at her. “You, my sweet girl, need to learn patience.” He eased off his boxers, picking them up off the floor and folding them neatly as he placed them in the chair on his slacks. “Honey, please, why do you make me wait?” Emilea pleaded from her position on the dining room table, squirming restlessly. She wondered how he could always maintain his composure when he wanted to. She would be trembling and squirming, unable to speak in complete sentences, and he would calmly whisper to her to relax. She didn't want to relax. She wanted to be “wound up.” She loved that just the thought of his hands on her was enough to make her wet. She wanted him....now.
James moved slowly toward her. He put his hand gently on the calf of her left leg and slid it to the bend of her knee, lifting her leg and moving it to the side. He did the same with her right leg, making space for himself between them. He bent over Emilea, lowering himself to kiss her belly, pulling her bottom to the edge of the table as he did. James trailed kisses over to her hip, enjoying the curve leading up to her breast. Tracing soft slow circles around her breasts with his fingertips as he lightly kissed the skin beneath them. He was careful not to touch the pink areolas or her nipples, though he knew that they were begging for his attention.
Emilea gasped at his touch. He knew her body well. He had made a study of her, seeing it as his joyous assignment to explore every inch of her. Discovering with each gasp and every soft moan that escaped her, what excited and pleased her. He trailed his fingers up to her neck, stroking softly from her earlobes to her collarbones. She shivered and squirmed beneath his fingers, her eyes closed, lost in his touch. His hands trailed down the length of her body, to a few inches below her naval. He lingered there, kissing her softly, sliding his fingers down her thighs and back up the insides of her legs. His fingers so close to where she wanted him to touch her that she arched her back sharply trying to meet them each time he came close; moaning her complaints as he drew his hands back each time. James knew that it would not be in Emilea's best service to give in to her wanting so soon. He wanted to “take her to the mountain top,” he always sought to take her further than she thought she could go. Frequently accomplishing this by making her endure far more than she thought she could withstand. “James, please...you're killing me!” Emilea squirmed, pushing her hips up to meet him, aching to feel his touch. He would not give in to her pleas. “Shhhh Lil' One. It's OK, try to be still.” He put his hands on her hips and gently pressed her down into the table, holding her there until she calmed a bit and stopped resisting his physical direction.
He could hear her breaths slowing as she calmed at his firm touch and his gentle instruction. She knew that it would do no good to pressure him into quick action. He would never yield to such a request. She knew that James would make her wait. She tried to relax, letting her body ease onto the table beneath her. He knew what was best for her, in everything. Her best interest was paramount. She could feel James pressing down on her hips, preventing her from pushing up toward him. “Slow breaths Lil' one.....in......and... out. She tried hard to focus on her breathing.
Her mind wandered back to their first meeting, at the wedding. She had seen him, standing there, watching her from across the room. She had wanted to dance with him, wondering what it would feel like to be in his arms. To have him hold her close. She had been unwilling to resist the firm authoritative way that he had taken her to the dance floor. It had been swift without being demanding. He always seemed to take what he wanted without taking anything from her. He “knew” her. He made it his business to understand her, inside and out.

James stood quietly in between Emilea's legs, watching her closely, studying her. Her eyes were closed. He was pleased by her concerted effort to breathe deeply with him. He relaxed the downward pressure of his hands on her hips as he could see that she had followed his instructions to relax. He would reward her by driving her crazy again. He trailed his tongue down her left inner thigh, kissing and nibbling as he went, evoking sharp gasps from her as her resolve to stay calm was again lost. She had bent her knees and pulled her feet up, resting them on James's shoulders. With each kiss of his lips, every delicate lick of his tongue on the inside of her thighs, her back would arch and her hips would then rise trying to catch his teasing kisses with her erotic center. Her breaths drawing sharply into her lungs as soft pleading moans escaped her. “James, please, you're killing me! Why do you keep making me wait? I...I ….can't stand it....please.”
James couldn't resist her need any longer. Placing his hands on the insides of her thighs he exerted firm pressure outward and Emilea let her legs fall apart, surrendering her most intimate parts to him. Her intoxicating scent rose to meet him as he made his descent to take her in the most intimate way. He kissed the petals of the delicate flower that was blossoming open for him. Trailing his tongue along her swollen lips and suckling the precious pearl that was hiding within it's protective cover.
Emilea pushed against James's shoulders, so overwhelmed with sensations that she was unable to control her strong legs. She had managed to push herself so far across the table that James was now having a difficult time reaching her and he feared she may inadvertently push back too far and fall off the tables edge. “Emilea sweetheart, you must be careful my love, you are going to topple right off of the table if you don't stop squirming.” He could see that she hadn't heard him. She was lost in their love making, her eyes closed tightly, head tilted back, she was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling quickly with each gasping respiration. She was beautiful, totally surrendered to him. She was pure poetry and James never grew weary of admiring her.

He put his hands beneath her bottom and gently pulled her back to the edge of the table where he stood. She didn't seem to notice that he had repositioned her for safety's sake. He stroked her soft swollen lips with his fingers, soaking them in her excitement. As her back arched he slipped his finger deep inside her and he felt her velvety warmth grip his finger possessively. He positioned his finger so that the pad of it was facing up and he began to firmly massage the roof of her pussy. She reacted powerfully, crying out to him. “James...wait...oh my God...wait...it's...oh my...its...so...wait...Oh my God...I can't...I can't!” “You can't what Emilea?” Her whole body was trembling now, her hips pushing up fervently into the pressure of his finger. “I can't....I can't...wait...Oh my... James...it's too much...wait...I can't stand..I...it's...I can't stand it!”
“Do you need me to stop Emilea? You must use your word if you need me to stop sweetheart.” They had set up a safe word for Emilea's comfort before the first time they had made love. She had been involved in a relationship that had put her in harms way more than once, and though James would never hurt her, he had given her a safe word so that she would feel assured that she could always call anything to a halt if she felt the need. She didn't respond. She didn't seem to hear him. He decided that it would be best to move their lovemaking to the bedroom so that she would be more comfortable. Gently pulling his hand back, he scooped Emilea up into his arms and with seeming effortlessness he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.
Laying her on the bed he noticed that she had opened her eyes and that she seemed to be searching his. “Well there you are Lil' One. It seemed that maybe you had floated away for a bit.” She stared back at him, her eyes wide open, her lips slightly parted, her breaths coming slower now. “Emilea, do you remember your safe word?” She didn't answer. “Emilea,” he took her face in his hands and moved in very close to her. “Are you ok sweetheart? Can you tell me what your safe word is?” She seemed to come back to him, he could see the recognition in her eyes. She looked at him, clearly overwhelmed. “Tell me what your safe word is Emilea.” “No,” she replied. “No?” James answered back. “Do you remember it?” “Yes, I just don't want to say it.” James smiled at her. This time he was the one that shivered from head to toe. Her honesty was disarming. He eased her back onto the pillow and he kissed her, first on the forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. She moaned softly at the feel of his lips against her and James felt a surge of excitement shoot through his entire body. He gathered her into his arms and he took her mouth roughly with his own, his passion taking him over. He intended to consume her.

He slid down the length of her body and placed his hand flat against the area beneath her naval applying firm pressure, he slid his hand down over her wetness all the way to her bottom, then lifting it and repeating the motion until his hand was wet from her. James pushed his index and middle fingers against her warm center applying gentle pressure until they slid inside her. He positioned his fingers upward to massage the spot that had driven her so crazy only moments earlier. James pushed steadily upward flexing and curling his fingers inside her, feeling her g-spot steadily swelling against his fingers. Her hips rocked rhythmically keeping time with his stroking fingertips.
Emilea was overcome. “James! James! I..can't....I...James!” “Yes you can Lil' One, yes you can, it's ok, you are safe, I am right here. Cum for me.” “No, James, No...Oh my God, I ….No!” “Emilea, do not tell me no” James spoke firmly to her. “You are going to cum for me, you can't fight it.” She had such a difficult time letting go in this way, she had such an imbedded fear of losing control. James continued to push her. “Emilea! Release!” He knew she could not resist the command. He had been training her body to react to that word ever since he had began making love with her so many years ago. He knew she would not be able to resist for long. “Release!” “No! No! Oh my God James! I...I..it's...I...too much..I...I...can't! No!” James would not allow her to openly defy him in this way, she had her safe word if she needed it and she was not using it. He slid his fingers out of her and moved himself between her legs. Lifting her legs and placing her feet on his shoulders, he slid his hands under her bottom, raising her slightly. He centered himself against her and with one swift thrust, he took her. “Ohhhhhhhh! James! Ohhhhh!”

“That's it Emilea, good girl, you are going to cum for me.” She squirmed trying to push back in the bed, away from him. Hooking her legs with his arms he pulled her back to him. He rested her feet on the bed on either side of him and slid his hands up Emilea's quivering frame. He slid all the way up to her wrists, pulling the red dress with him as he went. Wrapping the dress around her wrists, securing her hands with it, he was now able to hold both of her hands with one of his. Sliding his free hand back down her, he paused taking her chin in his hand. He lowered himself to her, kissing her deeply. Teasing her tongue with his, stifling her loud cries with his lips, making her words inaudible as he twisted his tongue around hers.
Her pussy was amazing, soft like silk, hot and wet with her passion. James took slow deep breaths, pacing himself. He would never allow himself to cum until after Emilea had. He pumped forcefully into her. Taking his free hand, he positioned it directly beneath her belly button, pushing down firmly, as he drove his hard cock into her. The opposing forces driving Emilea crazy. She worked hard to resist him, trying to free her hands, to push herself backward with her feet. James took her harder. “Ok Emilea, that's enough. You are going to cum for me! RELEASE!” His command was loud and firm. It was more than she could take. With the word still hanging in the air, Emilea felt her body react to him. Her pussy contracting wildly, her hips bucking up against him, she wanted him deeper, harder faster. She did not have to tell him. James knew what she needed. He looped the dress on the curled metal of the headboard and took hold of her hips, thrusting his swollen cock into her over and over again as she came in torrents, soaking him and the bed.
He unhooked her hands and flipped her over onto her stomach, hooking the dress on the lower loop of the metal framed headboard. He slid two pillows under her pelvis and spread her legs with his knee. Taking hold of her hips he slid back into her, taking her deeply. She cried out again. “James, oh my God, James! I can't make it stop!” She was cumming again, her whole body shook violently. He steadied her, holding her hips firmly as he drove his throbbing cock deep into her middle. “Good girl Emilea! That's it. That's it sweetheart! Cum for me!” He could feel her pussy contracting and relaxing squeezing him, he knew that he could not hold back much longer.
He slowed his pace as her climax subsided, sliding his hands down to her bottom, kneading the soft flesh as he slid slowly in and out of her. “Ok baby, one more time.” “No..James..No....Oh my God...I can't!” “Emilea, Do...Not..Tell..Me..No!” With that, he pulled her up to her knees, placing his hand between her shoulder blades to keep her top half low on the bed. He filled her swiftly with his hardness, “RELEASE!!” Emilea could not stop it. Her body surrendered to his command. She cried out over and over into the pillow, her words inaudible until all she could do was moan. . “OHHHHHHH!” With that James allowed himself the sweet pleasure of filling her with her reward. He pushed into her as deeply as her body would allow, and he came. His cock contracted so strongly that he began to feel dizzy, almost faint, he wondered if this was how Emilea felt. He took slow deep breaths as he pushed into her, holding her hips firmly, he flooded her with his seed. He could feel the firm squeezing of her around him. As his breathing became more regular, he slowly pulled out of her, removing the pillows and lowering her back to the bed.

As he unhooked her wrists from their tether, he spoke softly to Emilea. “there's my sweet girl, you did such a good job sweetheart. You are so beautiful.” He kissed her forehead gently, then her nose, then her lips. She responded with slurred speech, her eyes were closed but she wasn't asleep. She was difficult to understand. She was in her special place. She called it “the deep.” A place that she had described to him when he first took her there. She said it was dark and warm, and she had the sensation that she was floating. To him she appeared almost drunk. Her speech garbled and slurred, she was unable to perform even the slightest of movements. She was limp as a rag doll. If he had to describe her condition to someone he would have called it “hypnotic.” She was in a deep place, wherever she was. It took her a long time to respond to him. Her breaths coming slowly, each one filling her lungs at a pace that had worried him the first time he had witnessed it. “Emilea, are you in “the deep?” She didn't answer. “Sweetheart, are you ok?” “I....ohhhh... dark, floaty, its...I....warm......mmmm.”. He positioned her in the bed so that she would be comfortable. He laid down beside her, rolling her over onto her side and curling himself around her, surrounding her with him, making her feel safe. He knew it was important that he stay awake and keep a close watch on her until she was out of “the deep.” He knew not to leave her there alone because one time, she went to a different place..”the bad deep” is what she called it. She had slipped in so quickly that he couldn't readily get her back. It had been terrifying for her as she relived memories of the most awful event of her life. It had been terrifying for him as well, watching her physically fight off her attacker, weeping, begging for James to get her out of the “bad deep.” He would sit up with her all night long if need be. He would never allow her to go back there again.
He whispered softly in her ear, “Emilea, you are my sweet girl. You did such a good job. I am so proud of you. You let yourself go, you let yourself go all the way, to “the deep.” I am so so proud of you baby. I am right here with you sweetheart, I've got you. You are safe baby, so so safe.” He took his hand and put it on the middle of her chest, above her breasts, and pressed gently. Sighing deeply she seemed to sink even further into the soft bed. James tucked the down comforter around her holding her tight to him for nearly an hour. She lay peacefully, her breathing slow and deep, intermittently asking him “Is it day?” James responded “No Lil one it's night. This confusion would sometimes last for a few hours with her asking the same questions several times. “Ok, Emilea, it's time to come out. Time to come back to me sweetheart. He sat up against the headboard and pulled her into his lap. Stroking her face he continued to coax her out of the special place. He kept encouraging her. “Yes, baby, that's it, come back to me, it's time to come back now.” She slowly started to move, curling into him, she grasped his hand and held it against her cheek.
“I am so so sleepy James.” “I know you are baby, will you drink some water for me?” “Yes”
she replied. James leaned over and pulled a bottled water from the mini fridge next to the bed. Opening it he held the bottle to her lips. “Drink for me sweetheart.” Emilea drank deeply from the bottle, finishing nearly half before James took it from her so that she could take a breath. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, she responded to him, kissing him in return. She smiled up at him, “I love you James.” James smiled back at her, “I love you, “Mine.”” Emilea loved it when he called her that. She loved that he claimed ownership of her, taking complete responsibility for her every need. “Drink some more for me now.” James held the bottle to her lips. She finished the water and slumped back into his arms, exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to take her again, to consume her, but he knew that she needed to rest.
“Ok, let's get you comfortable, you need to sleep now.” “But I'm not tired” Emilea complained. She always did this. She would try to convince him that she wasn't tired. It always tickled him that she thought she could convince him with such an unconvincing lie. “I know what's best for you Emilea, you are going to go to sleep now because that's what you need.” He moved her on the bed, positioning her on her side as he again moved close to her, spooning her. “Sleep now Emilea.”She didn't resist him. She settled into bed next to him, sighing peacefully as she quickly fell off to sleep.

James lay awake for a long time listening to her breathe, loving her, loving their life together. As he lay next to her in the bed, he noticed that she must not have closed her closet door when he was in the bathroom earlier. He slid out of bed tucking the blanket around her as he made his exit. Walking over to the closet door he saw that all of her clothes were all pushed to one side of the closet, “perhaps she is doing some spring cleaning” James speculated aloud. Turning on the closet light he noticed mud on the floor. He turned to ask her about it but thought better of it. He could clean it up tomorrow and she needed to rest. He needed to sleep too, as morning always came too quickly, and he had to be sharp if he was going to sort out what was going on at work.. He walked back to the bed, realizing how tired he was. Pulling the heavy comforter back he looked at Emilea's naked body. She was so peaceful, still, curled up and hugging her pillow. He stood watching her sleep until she started reaching out, feeling the bed, looking for him in her sleep. What an honor that was to him. Even in her deepest sleep she wanted him close to her. He climbed into the bed and curled up next to her, his love, his wife, his beautiful submissive. Putting his arm around her and taking her breast in his hand, he sighed deeply, closing his eyes, consciously relaxing all of his muscles, breathing as he had instructed Emilea to earlier. Sleep finally took him. As he slipped deeper and deeper, he had the sensation that he was falling, being plunged into a darkness that was fraught with strange and disturbing dreams, foreshadowing a future that was unpredictable at best and dangerous at its worst.