A Simple Gift

By TammyJo Eckhart

http://www.kiva.net/~teckhart/
teckhart@kiva.net

TammyJo Eckhart, a dominant sadist, has been active in the BDSM community since 1993 when she moved to NYC to pursue a master's degree in ancient history at Columbia University . There she became involved in TES on a semi-regular basis as well as helping found the Columbia University group, Conversio Virium. In 1995, she continued organizing the Applemunch, a monthly dinner for those interested in BDSM. Her writing has been published in the SandMUtopian Guardian, by Masquerade Books (Punishment for the Crime; Amazons), Circlet Press (SM Futures), and Greenery Press (Justice). In her writing and in real life, she has been told that she shatters the common stereotypes of dominant women. An educator at heart, she continues her direct involvement in BDSM organizations via Headspace at the Bloomington campus of Indiana University . She helps arrange for education panels in courses and dormitories as well as working one-on-one with instructors who make BDSM a topic in human sexuality classes. She has also selectively trained would-be submissives or slaves and mentored some new tops and dominants.

Read the SCENEprofiles Interview with TammyJo

Read TammyJo's Story Journey unto Warrior

The lights of the room exploded as his body shook from the pounding orgasm she tore forth. He felt her weight on top of him as she collapsed. Slowly his eyes focused on the canopy of white silk overhead. He drew in his breath as he felt her move. Her dark scarlet tresses brushed the side of his face and chest as she propped herself above him. Her green eyes filled his sight as she lowered her mouth to his. His mouth opened and submitted to her tongue. He lifted his head with a moan as she pulled away and sat up, straddling his chest. As she leaned toward the head of the bed, the scent of their sweat and their fluid filled his nostrils. His tongue flicked out and touched her quickly.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval and swung one leg over so that she was no longer straddling him. "Just for that, the legs stay," she said.

He felt his wrists released and slowly lowered them to his chest. He watched silently as she got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Soon the patter of water was heard. He lifted up his left hand and gazed at the ring on the third finger. He had made this ring himself following her exact instructions. The delicate gold chain links had taken him weeks to perfect.

He lowered his hand after the water stopped. Soon she returned, his scent gone from her body. This saddened him slightly and he hated himself for feeling that way. She pulled the covers over both of them as she snuggled close to his body. His feet at the bottom corners stuck out, but he didn't care because her body was soft and warm wrapped around him.

"Good morning, Pierce."

He opened his eyes to her voice and her tongue probing his mouth. She guided his hands to her gentle breasts that pressed against his chest. His fingers were led along to the nipples as she sat up. She laughed and released his hands which fell obediently to his chest. He felt his ankles released as he lay still.

"Time to get up," she ordered with a smack on the bottom of his right foot.

He sat up slowly, pulling his legs up, the muscles tight from being in one position all night. He watched her pull her clothes out of the closet.

"Don't just sit there," she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. The room spun and he found himself on the floor, his head cradled in her arms.

"You know this happens when you lay in one position all night," she reminded him. "You need to be more careful."

He let her help him up and walk him around the room a few times. As soon as he was able to walk by himself she returned to the closet. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The familiar sight of his clothing for that day laid out on the floor, made his heart soar and his legs capable of stepping up into the shower. As he felt the water wash over him, he smiled contentedly.

When he had first encountered her at a night club, his friends all warned. "She's a gold digger. She knows you're kinky and she'll play you for everything you have." They were wrong. In two short months their love was legalized at a tiny country church -- the rings he made at her direction, blessed by the minister. That ceremony was for their families and strait-laced friends. Then that night they signed a contract in blood and he received another ring to signify her power over him. The year was ending now. He had to do something special for her. Give himself completely to her. But how?

His shower lasted precisely seventeen minutes, time enough to shave his body and make sure he was squeaky clean. As soon as he stepped out of the shower, she was there, standing in her bra and panties. His chest squeaked as she ran a finger over it. This won her smile. He watched with a deep sigh as she returned to the bedroom.

Quickly he dried off and pulled on his clothes. His worst jeans and a work shirt so he could continue on the landscaping today. As he walked past her, he noted that she was wearing one of her business suits. His heart sank at the thought of her going out and he pinched his thigh in punishment.

"Omelets," the note on the refrigerator read. The one underneath informed him that she was eating lunch in town, and the next one that she was in the mood for Italian. That probably meant they were going out for supper.

He had just placed the Omelets on two warmed plates, when she leaned over the kitchen island to blow him a kiss. He smiled back and replied to the signal. "Good morning, Mistress."

"Yes, it is," she said, taking a seat at one of the stools of the breakfast nook. "You read the notes?" she asked glancing at the refrigerator.

"Yes, Mistress,” he replied. He placed one of the plates in front of her, the fork already on it. "Coffee?"

"Hhmmm," she thought tasting the Omelet. "Irish cream. This is very good,” she added taking another bite.

He prepared her coffee and slid it in front of her. Standing opposite her, he ate his Omelet, making sure to finish when she did. That wasn't a rule, but he felt he shouldn't make her wait. He took her empty plate and rinsed both off in the sink.

"Got to go," she exclaimed, glancing at her watch, the one he had bought her for her birthday two months ago. She picked up her coffee mug in one hand and her briefcase in another.

He followed her to the door, taking the mug after she had finished. He felt that evil sadness creep up inside of him as she opened the door. She paused and her lips touched his briefly.

"Be home around five. We're going out." She kissed him again then hurried out of the door.

He watched her get into the Cadillac and drive off toward town. As he closed the door, he hit his head on it, cursing his feelings once again.

"So, your first year is about to end," his friend stated as he watched Pierce cart another wheelbarrow of wood chips to the back yard.

"Yup," Pierce answered as he stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow. "How long you and Marcy been married, Rick?"

"Oh, gee. Let's see," the man took his sunglasses out of his blazer pocket and placed them on. "Been with the old ball and chain for nearly three years now," Rick chuckled.

Pierce managed a smile. "What did you get her for your first anniversary?"

"Traditional is paper, but of course Marcy's tastes are higher than a mere card," Rick added. "I bought her a couple of acres of land and presented her with the deed. She's converting it to an orchard, I believe. She misses her parents' estate." Rick noted his friend's disinterest and supplied an alternative. "I heard clocks are the modern course to go."

"I gave her a new watch for her birthday," Pierce sighed. He picked up his shovel and looked at the wood chips.

"Why don't you ask her?" Rick said, uncomfortable with the other's labor.

"There's an idea," Pierce stated. He looked at his friend and held the shovel out to him. "Why don't you stay and help?"

Rick wrinkled his nose in disgust. "No, thank you. I don't how Elizabeth gets you to do all this stuff, Pierce. Beneath a Chaiseworth, I think." Rick turned away to leave but added over his shoulder, "She must be good in bed."

Pierce dug into the wood chips and dumped them on the area which surrounded an artificial pool. He smiled as he thought silently at the retreating figure, You'd drop dead if you knew, pal..

He had just stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom when the door opened and she returned. A quick glance at the clock assured him that she was early. He stood perfectly still as she walked around him. She paused behind him, pressing against his bare body. Her arms slipped under his arms, her hands caressed his nipples still firm from the hot and relaxing shower.

She moved around to face him, one part of her body at all times touching him. "I thought I would surprise you," she said. Stepping away, she took a few moments to look over his body with approval.

He parted his lips to speak but closed them so not to disturb her gaze.

"What?" she said, tossing her jacket on the floor. "Speak to me."

"It is has almost a year since you agreed to accept me as a husband," he said, his voice quaking as he spoke. "I would like to give you a gift to show my gratitude, Mistress." He paused a took a deep breath, "Do you have a suggestion?"

She reached up and touched his cheek, feeling him flinch slightly. "Am I terribly cruel that you fear even asking a question out of love?"

"No. Never cruel," he replied, his chest filling with sorrow at the obvious pain his question had caused her. "I, I'm not very good at picking out gifts," he offered.

"Something simple," she said. She stepped away and fixed her eyes upon him in a more commanding gaze. "Remove my shoes." He knelt on one knee then the other. He slipped each shoe off as she offered it to him.

"Now the hose," she instructed, standing over him. He reached under her skirt and released the hose from the garters. Slowly he rolled them down her firm legs.

"The shirt," she ordered softly, her eyes sparkling. He stood up, his height only inches above hers. Taking his time, but gauging the speed by her breathing, he unbuttoned each pearl button. He slipped the silk shirt from her body, his breathing now audible. He touched her white bra strap in hope.

"No," she stated. A smile touched her lips as he let his hands fall to his sides. "The skirt."

Kneeling again, he loosened her belt and laid it by her bare feet. Next he unbuttoned it and slipped it down her heels to reveal the white garter belt and white bikini briefs. He looked up anxiously.

She walked behind him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Stand up," she ordered. As soon as he stood, she pressed her now naked form against him. She kneaded his buttocks with her hands and her hips. Teasingly, she moved her fingers slowly around his hips until they caressed his pubic area, occasionally venturing to touch his now hard cock and balls. His legs shook beneath her touch so she removed her hands and backed away a step. "Turn around," she whispered. He turned, his body flushed and ready for her. "You know what I want," her voice sound musky as she pushed him to his knees by his shoulders.

He didn't need further instructions. His tongue flicked out and teased her nipples. He caressed her breasts as he circled them with tiny kisses. His lips and tongue followed the curves of her body down her stomach and pubic mound. Her thighs opened to his gentle, hot probing tongue. When her fingers grasped his hair, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.

"Aren't you glad I came home?" she asked as he paused in his attentions to make sure she was comfortable.

He smiled, his blue eyes almost black from desire. "Yes, Mistress," he croaked then dove between her legs with his hungry tongue. He could feel her glands swell in response to his attention. His hands caressed her thighs and moved up to her breasts so he could feel her breathing better.

Her fingers intertwined in the bedspread as she felt his mouth suck up the lubrication that now flowed freely from her. She moaned and clenched her thighs around his head as she felt her pelvis flood with blood. "Go!" she ordered, her fingers now wrapped around his brown locks of hair. The room whirled and she heard her own breath gasping then stopping, gasping then stopping. She screamed as the pressure exploded from her.

The orgasm increased her strength and she rolled them over, pinning his arms beneath him. Her eyes burned into his as she crashed onto his shaft. Her muscles still clenched and within seconds, he was rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. Their hips ground together as she pushed, forcing him in further and further. "Wait!" she demanded when she noticed him opening his mouth to beg.

He opened his eyes a crack and moaned in desire, but kept his lips sealed. He gasped as she stopped moving. He opened his eyes wider as she grasped him by the chin.

"Eyes on me!" She smiled as she begin to move, enjoying the great internal struggle he fought just to obey her. "On the count of ten we come together," she mandated their pleasure.

His vision blurred even though he managed to keep his eyes open. The room seemed to dim and spin as she counted higher. He felt his cock trapped inside her, her muscles doing all the work. At her word, he heard himself scream as she milked him dry.

She shuddered, the second not being so strong as her first. She let him relax inside her, enjoying the feeling of her contractions. Then she climbed off of him and lay next to him. "Come to the shower with me," she whispered, biting his ear lobe.

Later that evening while they sat at their favorite table in one of the city's finest Italian restaurants, he ventured to clarify her answer. "May I ask what you meant by 'something simple,' Mistress?" he said the word very softly. She prized discretion in public but he wished to show her his full respect.

Elizabeth frowned slightly. "You don't have to get me anything, Pierce."

He bowed his head and leaned across the table. "Please," he begged, "let me give you things. Let me worship you that way as well." He was sure that this brought a blush to her cheeks.

"Just something simple," she replied.

"Like what?" he pressed in as humble as a way as possible.

She licked her lips and sat back in her chair. "Your heart on a silver platter," she joked.

"You already have it," he replied with a sad look.

She quickly grabbed his hand and kissed it. "Then what more do I need?"

"Hey, Pierce!"

He looked up to see a dark haired woman in a pink linen suit walking toward him. He leaned on his shovel. "Hey, Marcy!" His heart had that same sinking feeling he had experienced during the last month they had dated.

"Hey, it looks nice," Marcy commented as she looked around at the landscaping he had completed. "I like the gazebo especially," she complimented him as she stopped only a foot or two from him.

"Hi, Marcy. Rick's not here if you're looking for him," he added, hoping she'd leave at the news.

"Oh, I know. He's on the phone for the charity auction." She took a step toward him. "You've done a lot in three months," she said, glancing back at the gazebo.

"So, what do you want, Marcy?" He heard the harshness in his voice and was pleasantly surprised.

Marcy batted her blue eyes and pouted. "Ah, come on, Pierce. It's been four years already. Give me a break."

He glanced away and noticed the curtains in the mansion move. "What do you want, Marcy?"

"To invite you, and your wife," she and with a sneer, "to our celebrity auction this weekend."

Pierce looked at her in interest. "What's that?"

"Well, it's a benefit for the construction of a new research facility for STDs," she explained. "Some of the biggest names in show biz will be auctioning off a day of their lives. They'll do anything," she whispered, moving closer to him. "Bet Elizabeth would get a kick out of that; bet you would too."

"Stop screwing with my head, Marcy," he tried to sound firm but found his mind jerked back to their year together.

Honesty might be the best approach, Pierce had told himself when he had met the brunette at a local singles bar. So he had introduced himself and said he like to be tied up by women. The woman hadn't blinked an eye but had simply taken him to her home where she had tied him to her bed with scarves. In the morning she had said her name was Marcy.

For eleven months, he had told himself over and over that he was in heaven. A woman who tied him up whenever he asked, one who went into porn shops with him and even watched movies with him. He could ignore the little comments she made about how sick and dirty it all was. He had to because he just knew he'd never find another woman from his same social class who'd do these things to him.

Finally, he had convinced her to go to an S&M club in the city for the anniversary of their first encounter. She didn't say anything as they drove to the club, nor when he handed her a black bag with the toys they had collected over the year. But when he sank to his knees outside the club door and waited for his collar, she exploded.

"You're doing this in public!" she screamed, throwing the bag to her feet. "Why can't you be a man, for Christ's sake? I think, sure he's my class and he's nice, I'll go along with his little games, but fuck, you get off on this don't you?"

Pierce looked up at his girlfriend in surprise. "Marcy, I've always been honest with you. If you weren't ready to come to a club..." he paused and stood up. "I'll take you home."

"Get your perverted hands off me!" she screamed and pushed him away.

Pierce just stood there dumbfounded as he watched the best thing in his life walk away and hail a cab. Giggles behind him made him turn back toward the club slightly. There in the doorway stood three women in full leather. The two blondes laughed the loudest while the redhead simply smiled. With effort, Pierce crouched and picked up his toy bag and returned to his car.

"Let's screw something then," Marcy said, her hand slipping inside of his jeans and jolting him back to the present.

"Well, Pierce, darling," his wife suddenly called from the house. "I didn't know you had company."

"Great timing," the brunette muttered, stepping away.

"Why what a surprise to see you here, Marcy," Elizabeth said as she joined them. "Care for a cookie?" she offered, shoving the platter she carried between her husband and his ex.

"You bake?" Marcy asked with a snort of laughter.

"Yes, I just made them." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and glanced at her husband.

"I didn't encourage her," Pierce said, almost sinking to his knees right there, but her glare stopped him.

The women exchanged challenging stares before the brunette chuckled and glanced at her shoes. "I came by to invite you both to the charity celebrity auction this weekend."

"Oh, that sounds interesting," Elizabeth said. "Do you have any literature on it?"

"As a matter of fact, I was just about to give it to Pierce when you joined us," Marcy replied, opening the purse she carried over one shoulder. "Here, it describes the cause and the celebrities who have agreed to participate." She glanced at the man as she continued, "I thought it might be something you two would be interested in."

"Well, anything for charity," Elizabeth said. She stared down the other woman until the brunette glanced at her watch and excused herself. "Please tell Rick that we'll see you both at the auction!" Elizabeth called after her. "Bitch," she mentioned under her breath. Without a word she turned on her heel and walked back to the mansion.

He dropped the shovel and followed close behind. As soon as the door was closed he prostrated himself at her feet.

"Get up," her voiced sounded tired.

Pierce followed her to the kitchen and silently watched her remove the last batch of cookies.

"That bitch made me burn these!" she exclaimed, dumping them into the trash can. She brushed her hair back from her face and finally turned to him.

Immediately he dropped to his knees. "I told her to leave, Mistress," he pleaded.

Elizabeth lifted her hand, noted his flinch, and simply tucked one auburn curl behind an ear. "I know. She's still got the hots for you though."

"I don't understand it," he said taking her offered hand and standing up. "She tops me for a year, fucks my mind up bad, then leaves me saying I'm a sick pervert." He followed her to the kitchen table and sat down across from her. "Then, as soon as I meet you, she starts making a pass at me, and she's married to my best friend, too!"

Elizabeth handed him a cookie. "She's confused because she wants to be a dom but she thinks it's sick. Goddess knows, Rick won't let her." Sticking a cookie in her mouth, she walked to the fridge and got the milk jug. "Be careful at that auction," she warned, returning to the table.

"I'll stick to you like glue, Mistress," he promised, pouring milk into two glasses she had earlier placed on the table.

"No," she corrected him, "I can't go."

He set his glass back on the table. "You can't go?"

"I have a business trip this weekend," she stated.

Pierce looked blankly at the table. "Are you commanding me to go?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, it might be fun and you need to spend a little time around your peers," she added. She handed him the brochure. "You might find someone to help you landscape."

He sat and watched her leave the kitchen. He wanted to run after her and remind her Our anniversary is on Monday. You can't leave me for the whole weekend. Instead he waited for a few minutes then found her in the front room, about to watch one of her favorite movies. He knelt next to her seat. "Will you be home by Monday, Mistress?"

"Yeah, I should be home by Sunday evening, but not in time for supper," she added as the name of her favorite star appeared. After it vanished she managed a smile at her husband. "Don't worry, I won't forget our anniversary. I have something special planned for you."

"Thank you, Mistress," he blushed and bowed his head. "I have to put away the landscaping materials and take a shower before dinner." When she didn't reply but only stared at the black haired, almond-eyed actor, he added, "May I be excused?"

She nodded and waved her hand in dismissal.

Pierce frowned as he left the living room. He fought the desire to glare at that actor. Seeing the auction bulletin, he muttered, "Are you in here, stud?" The names were in alphabetical order, so it took a few pages to find it. A smile crept onto his face. "Something simple, huh?"

Pierce looked around the auditorium. Hundreds of his financial peers had come along with hundreds of spectators. He turned when he heard his name.

"Pierce!" Marcy called as she approached him with outstretched arms. "I'm so glad you came!"

He allowed her to hug him briefly then pushed her away. " Elizabeth sends her regrets," he said, then immediately regretted it when his ex cooed in interest. "I'm here for the charity, Marcy."

"Sure you are," the woman said as she took his arm and started walking around the room with him.

"Marcy?" he decided that she was the most person to ask. "Are any of the guys, you know, like me?"

Marcy rolled her eyes. "Perverts? Subs? Yeah, there are quite a few. That's why they came."

"Could you tell who they are?" he asked casually.

Marcy stopped moving and looked up at him. "Why? You want to compare notes?"

"What does it matter, Marcy? I'm willing to pay a lot," he said, looking at her without fear and with his mind solidly focused. Elizabeth had given him that strength, the strength that Marcy and society had taken.

After a moment of thinking, his ex held out her hand. "Give my your bulletin and I'll mark them for you."

Fifteen minutes later, he had been saved from her presence by Rick, and was thumbing through the bulletin. He smiled as his hopes were confirmed.

Bidding started on the next hour. Prices were high, especially for the superstars. That's why he wasn't surprised to find his own bid up to five thousand. It was between him and a woman whom he recognized as a member of his country club. She kept throwing him dirty looks. Pierce simply shrugged and upped the bid.

The auctioneer looked at the woman who shook her head and walked away. "Sold for seven thousand five hundred dollars to Mr. Pierce Chaiseworth!"

Pierce went to the clerk and wrote out the check. Soon his purchase joined him. "So, you're Kurt?"

"Yup, that's what my mother tells me," the young man, actually his age peer, replied casually.

"OK if we hang out a bit?" Pierce asked.

"Whatever you want, Sir," the actor said with a bow and a twinkle in his eyes.

The two men walked to one of the cafes that had sprung up around the auditorium. After ordering two coffees, Pierce tried to smile at the actor. "So, what made you agree to this humiliating auction?"

The actor's eyes twinkled again. "Hey, it's a good charity cause and it's fun, you know?"

Pierce shook his head. "Fulfill a fantasy or something for you?"

The actor chuckled. "What makes you think that?"

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself up there," Pierce said then leaned back in his chair. "Plus I saw you in that collar a few years back in that street hustler movie. Very nice," he whispered.

The almond shaped eyes focused on their buyer as the actor leaned back in his chair with a frown. "You into that, Sir?" he asked, his voice held a challenge.

Pierce felt his cheeks redden as he remembered the last test that Elizabeth had put him through before agreeing to marry him. He tapped the table in nervousness but forced his eyes to look back at the actor. "You mean men or S&M?"

Kurt leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. "Both?"

"Only been with one man," Pierce replied uneasily. "You?"

"A few, but I usually don't do men," the actor added. "I bottom on occasion. Helps relieve the stress of acting," he said.

"I'm a lifestylist," Pierce said, finally feeling more at ease. He sipped at his coffee while the other man looked at him trying to appear nonplussed by the comment.

"I don't get it," Kurt said. "If you got someone steady, why you want me?"

"For my mistress," Pierce explained. "See, it's our anniversary, and I want to prove to her that I'm not..." He paused, searching for the right words.

"Possessive?" the actor suggested, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, possessive. See, she owns me, but I don't own her." Pierce frowned. "Sounds crazy, huh?"

The actor shrugged. "I've seen weirder stuff at discos in Hollywood ." He finished his coffee and leaned across the table. "So what do I do, Sir?"

"Come back to our place, I'll fill you in on the plan. She should be home late tonight." Pierce stood up as did the actor. "You got a car here?"

"Nope, didn't think I'd be needing it," Kurt replied with a grin.

After dinner, Pierce took the actor to the guest room.

"Nice house," Kurt said again, as he sat down on the bed. He picked up the card, fastened to a pink ribbon which lay on the bed. "So I wear this and nothing else?"

"Unless you have a problem with that?" Pierce said. "If you don't want to do this, just tell me and you can help me with the landscaping," he reminded the actor.

"Nah," the actor stood up and looked into the bathroom. He turned to his host with a smile. "She looks very pretty," he said referring to the picture he had been shown earlier. "And you said she honors safewords and there are condoms?"

"Yeah," Pierce had to swallow before he could reply. "Well, I'll get you in the morning. Good night." Pierce left the room and hurried to the main bedroom. Shutting the door, he finally allowed himself to sigh deeply.

He went to the bathroom and took a thorough shower, making sure he was closely shaved and completely cleaned. Please come home soon, he thought silently as he closed his eyes and let the water fall upon him.

As soon as he could make his skin squeak, he turned off the shower and stepped out onto the bathmat. He rubbed his skin dry quickly, his body chilling. He ran into the bedroom and turned the heater on low. After the goosebumps vanished he cleaned up the bathroom, pausing to glance in the mirror. Am I as handsome as him? You're the best you can be, he assured himself. He crawled into bed, making sure he was on his side.

Pierce opened his eyes as soon as he felt something sliding up his inner thigh. He swallowed once and spoke as loud as he could, "Who are you?"

A giggle and a push onto his stomach was his answer.

Recognizing the sound of his mistress' voice, he relaxed and opened his legs as her hand continued to travel up his inner thigh. He felt the bed move as she crawled up next to him, laying her body along side him. Her other hand stroked his hair and the fingers on her first hand now traced around his anus. As she poked her finger in to the first joint, he clenched his legs shut in shame.

Immediately, the finger was withdrawn and he felt her get out of bed. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he heard her return. Instead of a vocal answer, he felt something cool and hard touch his anus. He relaxed his muscles and let the plug easily in to where it just brushed his prostate gland. The plug was pulled out and pushed in an increasing tempo. His cock poked into the mattress in response.

As the tempo of her thrusting increased, his fingers wrapped themselves in the sheet as he tried to be patient. A particularly strong thrust pushed his gland sharply and he sucked in his breath loudly. A drop of sweat fell into his eye. "Please?" he begged quietly. The thrusting stopped, the plug in. He glanced over his shoulder, only to have her hand grip his hair and shove his face into the pillow. He didn't struggle and within seconds he was released and could breath again.

That hand now rested on his bare back and she patted in time to the thrusting of the plug. Pierce's fingers dug into the sheets and he bit his lip as the pressure built up inside. His breathe came in loud gasps as he desperately fought his voice. Please, please, please, he silently yelled.

"Scream!" she commanded shoving the plug in as deep as she could.

Pierce arched his back as he screamed in pleasure. He propped himself up above the growing hot wet spot on the bed. The plug was slowly pulled out and he felt her get off the bed. He turned his head just enough to see her disappear into the bathroom. He hopped off the bed and pulled the sheets off before his ejaculate stained the mattress. He stuffed the sheets into the laundry chute.

"I'm home," she said, standing naked in the doorway separating the bathroom from the bedroom. "Shower?" she asked, stepping aside.

Pierce couldn't meet her eyes as he slid passed and into the shower. Quickly he washed the already drying cum from his stomach and crotch. He dried himself off quickly and grabbed new sheets from the linen closet in the bathroom. He didn't say a word as he replaced the sheets and she stalked him closely, making sure her body bumped his. As soon as the sheets and blanket were in place, he turned to face her and found himself flat on his back and her on top of him.

"I missed you, baby," she whispered as she nipped his earlobe. "Talk to me," she said.

"I missed you so much, Mistress," he repeated over and over as he hugged her close.

The alarm rang and he opened his eyes. He watched her glance at the clock then angrily at him. "It's early," she muttered and pulled the sheets over her head.

Silently but quickly Pierce scrambled from bed. He hit the shower and quickly pulled on his work clothes, sighing in relief to see her still under the covers. He snuck out of the bedroom and knocked on the guestroom door.

"I'm ready," the actor answered the door in nothing but the anniversary card tied around his neck by a pink ribbon.

"I'll get breakfast ready and bring it up to you," Pierce reminded them both. In less than twenty minutes he returned carrying a tray of hot coffee, english muffin with jelly, Omelet and two strips of bacon. "You sure you want to do this?" he asked as he handing the actor the tray.

Almond eyes twinkling, Kurt nodded. "Just open the door and trust her," he added.

Pierce nodded and opened the bedroom door. He couldn't look in, so he simply closed the door and ran downstairs and out to the back yard. Calm down, you don't have the right to feel this way, he chastised himself. He paced under the bedroom window, wondering what course of action she would take. As soon as she appeared at the window he froze.

She looked down at him, her face expressionless at first then breaking into a grin. She simply shut the curtains, signaling that she was accepting his anniversary gift.

Pierce nodded, wiped the tears from his eyes stubbornly and went to the tool shed to get his equipment.

A glance at his watch when he paused for lunch told him it had been over four hours. Pierce cleaned the countertop off and took his sandwich outside when he couldn't hear the cries from the main bedroom. He sat on the ground next to his shovel and looked up at the bedroom window where an occasional silhouette might appear. With a determined sigh he turned away from the window and concentrated on the sculptured back yard. Elizabeth was always telling himself that he sold himself short. With a chuckle, he remembered their three years together.

It had started back at the club, that same night in fact. After driving around for an hour, he had decided that the only way to deal with this was to just do what he had intended to do. He froze when he found himself in the parking lot. Except she won't be there to buy me, he thought in horror. With a deep breath, he got out of the car, locked the door behind him and walked as calmly into the club.

Pierce felt his legs shaking as he walked onto the auction block set up at the center of the club. He had his black leather collar on, his black jeans torn in strategic places, and plain white t- shirt and white sneakers. Why am I doing this? he thought miserably as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light.

"Oh, no, it's the loser from the parking lot!" a woman's voice yelled out and was immediately followed for a roar of laughter from the crowd.

"Yeah, bring on something worth our money!" a man's voice ordered.

"Hey, like you lack club credits," someone from the back of the room sneered.

Pierced glanced at the auctioneer who winked at him then spoke. "Come on, folks! Everyone has a right to be auctioned off if they want! So, this is Pierce, swears it's his real name, and he has wandered around our club for several years but finally got the nerve to be put up for sale."

"Whose putting him up?" a man's voice near the stage asked.

"He is putting himself up!" the auctioneer replied.

"Total newbie," the man replied.

"Should be your speed then, John!" someone heckled from the back of the room.

"Gentlemen please!" the auctioneer pleaded. "The auction please!"

"Yeah, let's hurry and get some first class material up there!" a woman's voice ordered. This was one of the women who'd seen him outside, Pierce decided when she spoke and his eyes found her and her two friends.

"Yes, so," the auctioneer wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the information sheet Pierce had filled out when he had entered the auction. "Says that he has had one owner but has only experienced a little bondage and humiliation! Says he wants to learn more!"

"I got something he can learn," the man in front jeered again. Pierce swallowed and swore if that's the only action I can get, then, hell, it must be better than nothing.

The auctioneer saved him with a quick comment, "Says he's hetero, John! Now can we have serious bids please?"

It seemed to take forever, but Pierce knew it was one of the quickest sales of the night and one of the lowest prices. He found himself led over to the group of three women who had witnessed Marcy's dumping him, and his heart fell into his stomach. The redhead took out a thin leather leash and attached it to the D-ring at the front of his collar.

"Why did you waste your money on that?" one of the blondes commented. "His kind crawl to our doors every day."

"He's never been at my door," the redhead replied; her voice was feminine but firm. She led him over to a small table. She nodded when he pulled out her chair for her. "Get me a ginger ale," she ordered, looping the leash around one of his wrists.

Pierce went to the bar and got the drink. When he returned, he paused, wondering how he should offer it to her. The books said one thing, Marcy wanted another and the computer chat group said something completely different. He decided to simply stand still, just within her line of vision, until she spoke to him.

The redhead appeared to nod slightly then spoke softly, "On your knees and hold the drink up to me".

Pierce obeyed, then waited until she motioned for him to sit in the other chair. He removed the leash from his wrist and laid it on the table so she could take it.

They sat for almost an hour, watching the auction in silence. He never turned his head to see the auction directly, but kept his eyes on her even when she turned her attention to the block. Both of her friends bought men who seemed to know that. One man on the stage was looking pathetically at the redhead as his bidding rose. At one point, the bidding slowed so the redhead raised her hand and spoke, telling the room that he was one of her clients. His price was the highest male bottom bid of the night.

When she finished her ginger ale, the redhead put her little black purse up on the table. "How much was the drink?'

Pierce blinked a couple of times then found his voice. "Three dollars, but don't worry about it, ma'am."

The redhead smiled and took out the money. As she placed into his hand, he noticed that her eyes were green. "I bought you, you didn't hire me."

"You're a pro, then?" he asked, his hopes dashed for a real relationship but he saw an opportunity to move into the pro scene where at least he had the money to get what he wanted, needed.

"What makes you think so?" She seemed amused with her question.

"Well," he glanced around and noticed with a touch of envy that her two friends were working over the men they had bought. "Well, you said you trained that one guy and his price went way up, so I figured you must be good enough to be a pro."

She laughed out loud then, and Pierce felt like sinking into the floor. Then her hand was on top of his and her voice spoke gently, "You sell yourself short".

"Huh?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat as she took the leash in hand again.

"Up there, your stance was why your price was so low. You need to be more comfortable with yourself." She stood up and led him to the coat check. "I prefer to play in private, unless you'd be more comfortable here."

Pierce glanced back into the main room. Never be alone with a play partner you just met. 'Wherever you want to go," he assured her.

"Good." They got their coats and left the club. Instead of catching a taxi immediately she led him along the side walk. He moved as close to her as he could, growing more uncomfortable as they moved further from the club. She stopped at one corner and raised her hand. Soon a taxi stopped. Ignoring the driver's comment, they got into the back seat.

Pierce sat next to his owner for the evening, his breath jagged as he worried more and more whether he was being foolish. If I had to, I could take her out. He followed her in a daze out of the cab and upstairs to the penthouse of one of the best buildings in the city. The door was answered by a young woman in rubber maid's uniform, her hands cuffed in front of her. Pierce blinked in confusion as his coat was taken and the maid led him into what appeared to be an ordinary living room.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" the maid asked.

Pierce ran one of his hands through his hair and shook his head. He stood up when the pro returned, this time wearing a handsome cream colored robe. She sat down in a chair and motioned for him to return to the couch. The maid presented her mistress with a steaming cup. "You may retire for the night, Amy," the redhead stated.

"Yes, Mistress." The maid rose then sank back to her knees. "Mistress, may I please?"

The redhead looked directly at her and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

The maid rose with a sob, but managed to leave the room gracefully.

Pierce turned his full attention back to this strange woman whose home he had obviously entered.

"May I look at your toy bag?" she asked as she sat her cup down on the coffee table.

"Yes, of course," he picked up the bag he had sat on the couch next to him and stood. Following the maid's example, he offered her the small bag.

"You learn quickly," the woman complimented him. "Stay there," she ordered softly when he started to move. She held up each item and asked him about it. She rewarded each blush this examination caused him with a smile. "What's your name again?" she asked when she handed the bag back to him.

"Pierce," he replied. "What's yours? Sorry," he said when she frowned at the question.

"You have potential but you are very raw," she replied as she stood up. She unclipped the leash from his collar. "Follow me," she instructed him and led him back to the door.

Pierce was clearly disappointed but tried to redeem himself by kissing her hand when she offered it to him.

"Here," the woman said, dropping a card into his palm. With a parting smile she shut the door on him.

Pierce stood outside the door for a moment and looked at the card. Mistress Elizabeth: Professional dominatrix and editor. Owner of Cinderella's Other Fantasies, a store in the city he and Marcy had visited. He said the name out loud, tasting the sound, "Elizabeth."

"Hey, Sir," Kurt tapped the other man on the shoulder again.

Pierce looked up and quickly stood.

"She wants you upstairs with her lunch," the movie star stated again.

Pierce nodded and went into the house. As he prepared the tray, he noticed that the man was shoving the wood chips into the carefully marked areas. He went to the door and called out to him, "Hey, you don't have to do that!"

"She said I should," Kurt replied. He smiled and paused to take off his shirt.

Pierce bit his lip as he saw the welts already turning a nice black and blue color. He picked up the tray and went slowly up the steps, determined not to ruin this day for her with any jealousy he might still have.

The door was open and he found her sitting up in bed waiting for him. "Come in," she said with a wave of her hand. He came to her and laid the tray across her lap. "Stay," she whispered as he turned to leave.

He stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. At her subtle signal, he pulled off his shirt, stepped out of his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans. The socks were next then he slid the jeans down to reveal his bare body. "Close your eyes and stay perfectly still," she ordered.

His legs felt numb, his back ached and he had an increasing itch on his neck. It had been hours for certain since he had delivered her lunch. During her shower he remained in position and he felt her move around him as she dressed. Then he heard another set of feet in the room and stiffened. A blindfold was placed over his eyes and earplugs placed in his ears. His arms were strapped back and his hands cuffed. Leg cuffs were also attached and a blanket tossed around him and straps tightened over it. Then the room tilted as he was hoisted up and carried.

He recognized the trunk of the car when he was placed in it from the familiar scent and feel of the steel on his feet. A trip. The special evening she talked about? He relaxed and tried to stay awake as the car moved. It stopped once for more than a mere traffic signal then drove on further.

When it stopped again the engine was turned off. A few seconds later, the trunk opened and several pairs of hands lifted him out and carried him. His feet were set down on something slick but soft. The blanket was removed, and his arms and legs released only to be spread-eagled against a frame behind him. Then the earplugs were returned and he could hear several soft female voices and gentle classical music. He didn't open his eyes when the blindfold was removed.

"Open your eyes, Pierce," Elizabeth commanded.

After a few seconds he could see her in the brightly lit room. She was in her full working leathers, and almost all of her top friends were in the room as well along with a few of their bottoms. He swallowed as a gentleman he recognized and dreaded held a needle up in front of him.

"It's been one year, Pierce." Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips. "Are you mine completely?"

"Yes, Mistress," he replied automatically. His eyes followed the needled as it was wiped with a cloth. Not this, not this. He looked at his wife with pleading eyes.

"Your gift to me was wonderful," she told him softly, licking her lips in the professionally seductive manner that he had seen floor men who claimed to be tops or gay. "My gift to you is to accept your final limit being crossed."

He rolled his eyes up and moaned slightly. I've have a tattoo, a brand, been fucked by a man but not this, please. He met her eyes and focused on the emerald depths entirely. His fear decreased, his mouth spoke, "Do it".

"Look at me, directly in the eyes and don't look away," Elizabeth said as she moved closer until the piercer's hand rested on her thigh telling her that was as close as she could get. "Stay focused no matter what," she whispered.

The room narrowed to her eyes and her voice. The pain felt like mere pricks with a sewing needle in his right ear, his nipples and his the skin around the head of his cock. Sounds slipped into silence and the world turned green as she stepped right up to him and embraced him carefully.

"Happy Anniversary, darling," she whispered in his ear.

~~~

As of the late spring of 2002, her "kinky family" is comprised of Tom, her husband since 1992, and Fox, her live-in slave/pet since 1999. She is constantly seeking new information and opinions about BDSM even on subjects she is not personally interested in, because as an academic she feels that one can never know enough and should always view things with an analyzing eye. She has been the "Featured Book Reviewer" for KinkyBooks.com since summer 2001, and her reviews are used by several BDSM organizations in the USA . Her republished reviews also appear on Mischief's Fantasy Shop, as will several original reviews.

Copyright © 1996 Tammy Jo Eckhart. No portion of this document or any automatically-cached copy thereof may be republished, redistributed, archived or printed without the explicit written permission of the author and the publisher, Masquerade Books.

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