I met Alan at a two-week management course on virtual teams. Thrown together as a group of twenty-four strangers, it is always amazing how much people reveal during the psychologically loaded group exercises at such courses. He was mostly listening but whenever he said something, it always cut to the point. On several occasions, he related his comments to me and as time elapsed, I felt him taking me more and more apart.

He was one of those people you do not particularly notice first, but whose presence takes over as time goes on, almost a head taller than my 168 cm, well built, dark hair turning gray, gray eyes, in his mid forties, me in my late thirties. I was increasingly irritated by him, and was therefore the more surprised when he asked me out for dinner.

The dinner showed him from a different side. He was a psychologist working with the police in Australia, following up on international internet crimes. I told him about my work. Even though dual citizen of Canada and New Zealand, I was working at that time second level management at an international not-for-profit organization in Geneva. He was a good listener and I felt an increasing attraction to him. I finally asked him point blank, "What is it about you that is so absolutely irritating to me during the course?"

"I feel attracted by you and I was testing you. Ever heard about b/d? I am a dominant male; you seem to be a female sub." His bluntness surpassed mine by far.

"What are you talking about?"

"You like bondage?"

"What is it your business?" I turned a darker shade of red.

"You do." He chuckled

He tickled the details out of me. I had used bondage with a previous boyfriend, both of us turned on by it, but it had not gone very far. My boyfriend was transferred by his company to a different city, and our ways separated. I was always 'sub' and could never even imagine being 'dom'.

Alan pretty much left it at that. We went out together a few more times, and our attraction to each other grew. We discovered joint hobbies such as traveling, cooking and keeping fit. He was into rock climbing, I preferred to go mountain biking and the gym.  

He finally invited me to join him on a three week holiday in Australia later in the year. He would introduce me to rock climbing and some other 'rope tricks'. He planned to rent a holiday cottage about three hours from Sydney. To my own surprise, I agreed.

Things usually turn out differently than you think. While at the management course, interviews had been held for replacing the director general position at my organization and on my return I was informed about the new appointee. I knew the person and was sure about one thing - I would not be able to work under him. So, I gave notice.

I immediately got a couple of job offers from other organizations, but wanted some time to think. A six-month break sounded like a good idea. I put my things in storage, cancelled the lease on the apartment and by the time I stepped on the plane, I was free as an eagle. I did not tell Alan, given that it did not influence our vacations plans.

The other thing that turned out differently was the flight to Australia. It was overbooked ('we are so sorry...') and I was down-graded from frequent-flyer business to economy class ('you will of course get a refund or could travel three days later on business class...'). Worse, a technical defect grounded us for over 16 hours, spent at the airport in Kuala Lumpur ('we will advise you about any progress...'). By the time I arrived in Sydney, I had not slept for over 48 hours.  

It was early morning. Alan was waiting with a smile on his face and a kiss. He saw my disheveled appearance, took hold of my back-pack and suitcase, and maneuvered me to his Land Cruiser where he lowered the front seat.

"Good news you can sleep, bad news it will take us close to three hours to get to the cottage."

My head hardly hit the neck rest before I was sound asleep, not recording any detail of our trip to the mountains. Next thing I was aware of, he lifted me out of the car. Good by me, I thought and blanked out again.

It was night when I finally got my senses back. I had no idea of time and the room was absolutely dark and quiet. It took me about five seconds to establish three things. I was lying under a cool bed sheet, I was naked and my hands were handcuffed in front of me. Otherwise, I was fine, except that I was hungry and thirsty, smelled of time too long spent without a shower, and needed to pee.

After the first adrenaline rush, the issue with the handcuffs only caused a smile. I was less happy about being naked.  

I fumbled around until I found a light switch. At least I was alone. The room was furnished with a king-size bed, two night tables, a dresser and a chair.   Whitewashed stone walls, wooden beams under the roof, two doors. I did not see my luggage.

I more closely examined the cuffs. They seemed like the real deal and tightly locked around my wrists, not enough to hurt but no way to slip out of them and not a lot of slack from the links in between.

I got out of bed and tried one of the doors. It opened into a bathroom. I peed. A look into the mirror confirmed the need for a shower. It was awkward to do so with handcuffs, my back definitely failed to get its due attention. But I found soap and shampoo, was able to wash my hair and overall felt clean and refreshed afterwards.

My luggage was nowhere to be found. I finally wrapped the bed sheet around me and opened the second door. It led into a dark hallway. I saw light under a door, knocked.   

"Come in."

I walked into a large living area including a lounge, dining area and kitchen. Alan was sitting behind a laptop at the dining room table. He looked up and smiled.

"Slept well?"

"Yes, thanks. Where are my clothes?"

"Outside on the washing line."

"No, I mean my suitcase and backpack."

"Oh, they are still in the car."

"Could you please get them?" I was getting annoyed.

"Tts, tts. Are we grumpy after a long flight? I am pretty sure you have collected information about what you can expect when you enter the lair of a dominant male. Even more so given that you agreed to explore some new territory. So, welcome to my territory. I tell you, I like you just the way you are. Except for... that."

With a rapid move, he pulled the bed sheet from me.

He must have seen my fear because he added with a much softer voice, "I guess you also trust me that I will not rape you. What about you sit down and I get you some food? You must be starved."

He got up and walked over to the stove, taking the bed sheet with him. I was a little bit at loss, but then walked to the other side of the dining room table and sat down, arms in front of me. He brought a plate heaped high with rice, curry chicken and salad. A bottle of red wine and a glass stood next to his laptop. He got a second glass, filled it and placed it next to my plate.

"Can I have some water, please?"

He took a glass jar from the fridge and filled another glass, proving that he was amendable to reasonable requests, so I was hopeful for my next request.

"Can you take these off?" I lifted my hands with the cuffs.

He smiled. "Part of the dress code for females."

Well, what could I do? I was hungry and fights are usually not won on empty stomach. The food and wine were excellent and I dug in.

"What are you working on?" I nodded towards the laptop.

"We are trying to wrap up two cases and I want to ensure that everything goes smoothly. I trust the other members of the team, but there is just too much at stake to completely tune out over a three week break."

"You have internet connection?"

"Yes, through satellite phone."

He smiled as he watched me trying to cut a larger piece of meat. I was determined to act like eating with cuffs was my daily routine. He refilled my wine glass.

I casually asked, "So, you insist that I am naked for the next three weeks?"

"No, the climbing harness could damage that lovely skin of yours. Hence, I will give you something to wear when we go mountain climbing."

Well that was a comforting thought.

With a sigh, I finished eating. I moved my hands in front of me, trying to get some of my modesty back. He removed the plate then said, "It is almost one o'clock. Why don't you lie down on the sofa while I finish my emails?"

The sofa looked comfortable; there was not enough space for two, which spoke in its favor. Also, the wine had made me tired again, so I agreed. As I got up, he took a key out of his shirt pocket.

"Come here." He opened the cuff on my left arm, then very quickly pulled me around and recuffed my hands behind my back. With a glance at my breasts he said, "Much better."

"Alan..." He pressed a finger on my lips, went over to the sofa, picked up a woolen blanket and motioned me to lie down. I gave in. He spread the blanket over me and tucked me in. I closed my eyes. I heard him coming back once more and felt him fastening a second set of steel cuffs around my ankles. Let him have his fun, I thought, and then fell asleep.

Later, he carried me back to the bedroom. 

The smell of coffee woke me up. The bedroom was flooded with sunlight. Alan was sitting in the chair, a coffee cup in his hands, dressed in a pair of shorts.

"Good morning, Peanut."

My nakedness was decently covered by the woolen blanket but the two sets of cuffs were still on me. My shoulders were stiff. As I tried to pull up my legs, I realized that he had added a chain between the ankle cuffs and the foot board.

"It does not look like I will be going mountain climbing today." I said with an ironic undertone.

"Later. What do you want first, breakfast or a shower?"

"What about a coffee, then a shower, then breakfast."

He returned with a second cup, helped me into a sitting position, then sat down next to me and held the cup to my lips.

"Not how I usually drink my coffee." I said after the first sip.

"It is all about achieving the purpose."

I had to agree then saw that his eyes were straying on my now exposed breasts. I blushed.

Once the coffee was finished, Alan unlocked my ankles and took me to the bathroom where he undressed. He saw my hesitation.

"Hey, I gave you the bedroom with the bathroom. What do you expect? That I do not shower for the next three weeks?"

He unceremoniously pushed me inside the shower stall and followed. While he got busy with turning on the water, I checked him out. He had a great body and was well endowed, slightly hard but far from fully aroused. I felt my crotch tingling. He turned around, saw my glance and smiled. "I hope you like what you see."

He started soaping me up. He was extremely thorough, did not miss a single crevice. I had to make all effort not to moan. He left it at that, rinsed me off, washed himself then turned the shower off and toweled us both dry. I verified that he had become harder.

As he walked me through to the dining area, he put his hands on my shoulders and started to massage them. "Sore?"

I nodded. He got a key and opened the handcuff on my left arm, then motioned me to sit on a dining room chair. They were made of wood, quite heavy, with arm rests. He fastened the open cuff around the back right leg. Then he got a second pair and reciprocated it with my left arm. I was more comfortable, but as exposed as ever before.

He got himself dressed, then made breakfast and prepared two plates, two glasses of juice and some more coffee.

He started to eat. I looked at my plate, then at him then rattled my cuffs. "How do you expect me to eat?"

"Well, tell me what you want. Egg? Sausage? Toast? Juice? Coffee?"

He made me ask for every bite. The day did not appear to start easy. While feeding me, he asked about my work.   I told him about the resignation and plans for the next half year. He probed a bit but otherwise simply assimilated what I told him.

After breakfast, he freed me. "Do you mind to clean up while I get your luggage and prepare the climbing gear?" I didn't.

While I was finishing up the dishes, he watched me. "You are very beautiful, you know." Then, "Even more so when you blush and are aroused." I was swearing at my body.

He got me out of my predicament by saying, "Let's get you dressed for your first lesson in rock climbing."

He had put my luggage in his bedroom which was no more than a spare room with a single bed. Indeed there was no second shower.   I did not need much imagination to figure out where this was leading to.

He was happy with me putting on some cutoffs, a T-Shirt and socks. I did not dare to ask whether I could move my luggage into my bedroom.  In the living room, he gave me a pair of climbing shoes, a helmet and a harness. I had emailed him my measurements and they were a good fit. He helped me with the harness and mounted one of his own.

He packed some food in a backpack, then added ropes, carabineers and a whole range of other mountain gear I did not readily recognize.

It was around ten when we left the cottage. It was a beautiful day, but still surprisingly cool. The cottage was overlooking a forested valley, no other buildings in sight. The cottage had a wooden deck with a table and chairs. Next to it a Jacuzzi covered with a canvas. I didn't see any problems spending three weeks at this place.

We started on a path behind the cottage, walking through pine forest. It took us about ten minutes to get to our first neighbor. After close to an hour, Alan stopped next to a 100 meter high cliff. It looked daunting.

Over the next hour he gave me an introduction to rock climbing. He was patient, made sure that I understood every detail. He asked me to try my newfound knowledge on the first part of the wall while he secured me. I realized it was not so easy, but got more confident as time went on. He pointed out how to put my hands and feet to get a good grip. Once I slipped and fell into the harness. A rush of adrenaline, but the security rope held.

Then he asked me to secure him. I was a bit scared. He was a good amount heavier than I was. He proved to me that I was able to hold him and explained the physics of securing while hanging in the ropes.

The cliff was next. I had my doubts that I would even get half way up and was absolutely surprised when we reached the top with no major difficulties.

The view was great. I heard voices far away, otherwise we were alone. We sat down and ate lunch.

"You know, b/d is like rock climbing. It depends on trust and security. It's a partnership where both sides rely on each other. And, like in rock climbing, you can go further and further, explore each others limits."

I was again surprised how entirely casual he was about these things, so I explored the topic further.

"Or, like a marriage." He looked at me with surprise.

"Yes, like a marriage."

"How comes you do not have a permanent partner?"

He was silent for a while and I wondered whether I had gone too far.

"I had a partner. Her name was Helen. She and I were almost perfect. She loved to explore the limits in rock climbing, b/d and our partnership." He smiled. Then after a brief period of silence, "She died in a car crash six years ago."

"I am sorry." I indeed was; I felt the pain in his voice.

"So what about you?'"

"No, never seemed to have run into the right guy. And there is... was... my job. It kept me more than busy."

"What about children, ever thought to start a family?"

"Yeah ... you know I love kids to pieces. But I am also aware that I would have to make a compromise with my job. I would have difficulties to cut down on work, and I do not want the kids to be the victim of that. And I would need a guy. You and Helen ever thought about it?"

"Helen and I were too addicted to each other to consider it an option. Who knows how I would feel, if I indeed had children."

He broke the spell by saying, "Let's get off this cliff." He looked at me. "Are you tired, or do you want to go down the way we came up? There is a foot path that leads down about half a kilometer from here."

I was stepping closer to the edge, looking down. It seemed, we were much higher than when we were coming up. With trepidation I said, "Okay, I can try."

"You like to push your limits. But 'trying' is not good enough. You must be convinced that you want to do this."

I thought about it. "I am convinced." 

With no further comment, he roped us on again. It took us longer than coming up, but we succeed with no major incidence. I was scared though and glad when I put my feet on safe ground.

It was late afternoon when we reached the cottage. My eyes fell on the Jacuzzi. I walked over and lifted the canvas. It was full, the water clean.

"You do like to push your limits. I like that." He chuckled.

I turned around, cheeks red. "Well it would be nice to get in after the day. I did bring my swimming suit."

"You don't need a swimming suit."

"Alan, we are outside."

"So, what? This is private property, nobody will show up and you will be in the water anyway. So get undressed."

"Alan..."

"Undress."

His voice had become firmer, his eyes were on my face. My heartbeat went up. I felt a shiver going down my spine.

I wanted to go inside. He said, "Here."

After a quick battle between one part of my brain and my body with the other part of my brain, I pulled off my T-shirt.

When I was naked, he said. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back." He pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. I could not believe that he had carried them with him all day long, but quite obviously he did. I obeyed, my heartbeat up in my ears. As I heard the racketing sound and felt the steel tightening around my wrists, I almost had an orgasm.

He gave me a slap on my buttocks. "I give you exactly three minutes to shower off your sweat, and then I expect you back here." He opened the door for me, I went to the bathroom where I peed and took my time to rinse off.  

He showed up behind me, naked. "I told you three minutes. It looks like I have to introduce you to some punishment." He pulled me out of the shower then produced a blindfold. I saw that he was serious. My heart sank into my crotch, pulsating and insecure.

"And don't talk."

The blindfold was padded and as he pulled it tight, he put me in absolute darkness. He left me standing while taking a shower himself, then led me outside where he helped me into the Jacuzzi. Then he joined me.

He moved behind me and settled me between his legs. I felt his cock brushing against my butt and was outright frightened now.

He started massaging my shoulders, neck and head. I finally relaxed. After a while he asked, "Better?"

I nodded. He moved away from me. I felt my way to the wall of the Jacuzzi, leaned my head back and simply enjoyed the water. I almost fell asleep.

I heard him leaving the water then moving chairs on the deck. He went inside. When he returned, I heard the tingling of ice cubes. I smiled.

He helped me out of the water, dried me off then guided me over to the table. I was surprised when I sat down on one of the dining room chairs, not the lighter plastic chairs. He used a rope to tie my cuffed hands to the back legs of the chair. He centered them, leaving no slack. Then, I felt a glass touching my lips. It was apple juice.

When I finished, he asked, "More?" I shook my head.

I heard a metallic sound. He took one of my ankles, put a cuff around it, and pulled it over the arm rest, tying the other cuff towards the back leg of the chair. He repeated the same with my second ankle, leaving me completely exposed, both legs spread over the arm rests, unable to move them down.

"Alan, this is not very comfortable."

"Peanut, if I tell you to be silent, I want you to be silent."

He went inside. I pulled on my restraints. The cuffs were not forgiving and I quickly stopped. He returned.

"Open up." I felt something touching my lips. I thought he had brought something to eat.

"Wider." I followed suit. He pushed a rubber ball between my teeth then fastened it with several straps around my head. It was the first time that I wore a gag and it was not comfortable. I had difficulties to swallow, my tongue was trapped. I started to struggle, panicked.

He had no mercy. He simply waited 'til pain and the futility of my struggles told me to calm down.

"Done with our tantrum?" He chuckled.

"Okay, then let's proceed. Hold still."

Something cold touched my crotch. I jerked.

"Hold still."

He turned the razor on. I swear I took a jump with my chair. Then I started to struggle again.

"This is too dangerous." He got some rope and tied my elbows together 'til my shoulders were almost pulled out of their sockets then tied them down hard. He proceeded with tightening my knees with rope to the back of the chair. When he was done, I was completely immobilized.

Then he shaved my crotch, first with the electric razor, then with shaving cream.

Once done, he said, "That was not too bad. I almost get the impression you liked it." I vigorously shock my head but my vagina was telling a different story. It was hot and wet.

"You do make a good sight. So, I will leave you outside while I make dinner." He carried me further away from the house then turned the chair towards the house. I assumed to get the right view from the kitchen window.

After I while, I was wondering whether he was cooking a five course meal. It took him a long time. I felt his eyes on me, remembered his touch as he was shaving me and was getting more aroused by the minute. I tried to clench. In vain, my legs were too far spread.

He came outside. "You really like this, do you."

I shock my head. "Hey, I demand some honesty, otherwise I will leave you out for the night. So, you do like this?"

I gave in, nodded, tried to clench again.

"Doesn't look like you will succeed though. Do you want some help?"

I hesitated then remembered his threat to leave me outside.

I slowly nodded. He chuckled again.

"What do you want, my fingers?" I nodded.

"My tongue?" I hesitated than nodded again.

"Anything else?" I shock my head. Not yet ready for that.

I thought I was about to explode before he even touched me. Wrong guess. He used his finger to follow the outline of the labia then started to stroke the inside of the lips. I squirmed, trying to get him closer to my clit. He hunched down, blew on my crotch. I shivered. Then his tongue. I was just about to get to the orgasm, when he stood up and said, "I have to check on the food."

I groaned.

He came back and repeated the game, five times, I was screaming into the gag.

He finally touched my clit with his tongue, and I exploded in an orgasm which put anything before to shame. As I went through wave after wave, I started to choke on the gag. He quickly removed it.

As I recovered, he asked, "Are you okay?"

I said, "You are one big danger to humanity."

"I take that as a compliment. Are you hungry?" I nodded.

He brought out the food then removed the blindfold.

"Can you untie me?"

"Well I was planning for some further exploration later, but it's your choice. I can untie you now and we call it quits for the day, or you remain like you are, and..."

"And...?"

"Your guess." He chuckled again.

What a choice to make! I realized that I absolutely loved it. I felt safe. My clean shaven crotch proved that he liked to challenge, on the other hand, he had left the essential choices to me.

"Okay, leave them then, as long I get some food."

He positioned my chair next to his but so that I was facing him, fully in his view. I couldn't reciprocate; he was back in shorts and a shirt.

Again I had to ask him for each bite, each sip of wine and water. I knew it changed something in me, but I did not want to think about it.   However, he was an excellent cook and I complimented him about the food.

It was getting cool and he carried me inside. He lit a fire then did the dishes while it was getting dark.

He returned with a feather in his hand. I said, "No, please. I am extremely ticklish."

"Then, I better gag you again. I don't want the neighbors to come running because of your screams."

"No way!"

He pulled the gag out of his pocket. I clenched my jaws. He knew all the tricks and had it inside within a couple of minutes.

Over the next hour, I went from heaven to hell and backwards. He explored my feet, thighs, crotch and vagina, like nobody else had them explored before, including me. He stretched me beyond my limits, but seemed to know when I got really over the brink of what I could take and retracted.

I stopped counting the orgasms and was half dead when he stopped. He gave me some apple juice to drink then untied me. My ankles and wrists were sore from the cuffs. He looked at them before he carried me to the bedroom. I started to doubt that I would ever walk on my own two legs to my bedroom.

While I was lying on the bed, he put some ointment on the cuff burns. Then he mounted and locked leather cuffs on me. A collar was last. I fell asleep.  

It was still early when I woke up in the morning. I couldn't get out of bed. My wrist and ankle cuffs were chained to the head and footboard, respectively, but there was plenty of slack. I was slightly annoyed of not being able to get up, but finally gave in and examined the cuffs.

The leather was dark and firm, but they were lined with fleece and did not hurt. They were worn and I wondered whether they had been his wife's. I touched the collar. I felt strange to wear it, so strange that the feeling went straight to the crotch.

Next time I woke up, Alan came in with two cups of coffee in his hands. He gave me one, and then checked for marks from the handcuffs. They were almost gone.

"The leather cuffs will give you no such problems."

"What if I have problems with my bladder?" I pointed to the chain connecting me to the headboard, trying to give him a hint that maybe there were good reasons to not tying me up at night.

He lifted the bed sheet. "It doesn't seem there is a problem."

I sighed.

He saw me looking back at the cuffs. "They were Helen's. I think they were her third set. She wore them for most of the last year. We had just decided to go permanent when the accident happened."

I sometimes wondered whether he could read my thoughts. 

"What do you mean with ‘going permanent’?"

"We wanted to confirm our commitment with her getting cuffs that cannot be removed anymore."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Made of leather?"

"No there are various forms, stainless steel, metal alloys. They are custom made and can be worn indefinitely."

"She must have loved you very much." I hardly said it when I realized my mistake. "And you must have loved her very much," I added. His eyes narrowed slightly. He had understood the implications.

"You got one point right. Taking such a step cannot be a one-sided commitment. It is one for life."

He took keys out of the pocket, opened the padlocks, cuffs and collar.

"Why don't you take a shower? I will make breakfast." Then pointing to the leather cuffs, "They don't take kindly to water."

I still felt the embarrassment about my mistake, went to the shower. The thought of permanent restraints had turned me on, but I could not believe that somebody would go that far. I mean why should you?

When I returned to the bedroom, I looked at the leather cuffs, touched them. I was moved that he let me wear them. Or otherwise, he simply didn't have another set around. I decided that I liked them and put them back on.

As I walked towards the living area, I felt all at once very insecure. My bags were still in Alan's bedroom and I turned around to look for something to wear. I knew he wouldn't like it. Indeed the backpack and suitcase were standing in a corner. I tossed around with the idea, finally picked up a well-worn long-sleeved flannel shirt of his which was hanging behind the door. I put it on, nothing else, then went to the living room.

Alan was standing at the stove, frying the eggs. He did not turn around, simply said, "I set the table outside on the deck." I picked up a tray with toast, juice and coffee and went outside, sat down and poured a cup of coffee for each of us. It was warm, maybe nine o'clock.

When he came outside, he saw what I was wearing. I thought I saw anger flashing over his face like a lightening stroke. Then it was gone. He didn't say anything, distributed the eggs and bacon on our plates then sat down.

I was stirring my coffee, just looking down at the plate.

"I take it, you are confused." His voice was soft. I swallowed, tears burning in my eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" I shook my head. 

He started to eat. "Let me guess. You wonder why you like being tied up, you probably have confirmed by now the submissive streak that I saw in you and it battles against who you thought that you are or should be. You probably also wonder whether I see simply a replacement of Helen in you." I almost gasped. The guy read me like a book.

"And you may be in the days of your cycle when you feel low."

The last statement made me laugh. I looked up. "Alan, is there something you do not know about women?"

"I guess a lot. And I feel I have much more to learn about you."  The seriousness was back in his voice.

"Peanut, just follow your instincts. For once, turn that lovely head of yours off and follow your feelings. And forget about what others may be thinking, or how you think that you should behave."

"Tell me, why do you call me Peanut?"

He thought about it. "It just feels right. Instinct."

"How did you call Helen?"

He looked at me, again that slight narrowing of his eyes. "I called her Mongrel. It was right for her too."

I breathed deeply, then picked up my fork and started to eat.

After a while he said, "What about we make it a normal day? Normal in your terms. We need some more food and water, and I want to show you the town nearby."

I looked at him. "I would really appreciate that."

After breakfast, he took the keys out of his pocket to open the cuffs.

I said, "Just take the collar off, I guess I can get away with the others." And as an afterthought, "Provided I can keep your shirt for the day."

"You better put something more on. Otherwise, you may end up in prison for indecent exposure." We both laughed.   

I got into jeans, sneakers, a T-shirt and his oversized shirt. Apart from its sleeves covering the cuffs, they looked like some fancy leather armbands anyway. Plenty of people walking around in those.

We had a great day, stocked up on food, wine and water, scouted the nearby town for hidden treasures, ate lunch at a cozy little place, and enjoyed the view from a couple of scenic spots. He had his hand on my shoulder for most of the day. I didn't mind. I took his advice – it just felt right.  

On return, he asked me what I wanted to do. "I make dinner, you check your email." He just smiled and let me get on with it. I made lasagna with salad, chose a bottle of wine and set the table, then lit a fire, more for the atmosphere than the temperature.

Alan worked on his laptop for the whole time.

We ate, he liked the food. I asked him about his work. I was surprised to hear that most of the time, he worked from home. "Internet criminals do not respect borders nor time zones. I work with virtual teams all across the globe, so it really does not matter where I am and quite often I have to work at night. I have to go into town to get the administrative stuff done, for local meetings and sometimes for video conferencing, that's all. The man-to-man stuff is done by cops, not me."  

He told me about his place outside of Sydney, an old farm which he mostly left to wildlife. "I like the space. There is nothing that could make me living in Europe, too many people, not enough air to breathe."

After dinner, he asked, "You ready for some rope tricks?"

"If you do the dishes." I quipped.

"Get undressed."

He started with a ring gag. Even though quite uncomfortable, I let him proceed. Instead of the collar I’d worn earlier, he squeezed a much wider and heavier collar around my neck, effectively immobilizing my head in an exaggerated upright position. "A posture collar," he explained.

I wanted to get my hands on it. "Don't!" He quickly tied them behind my back, wrists to elbows. Several loops of rope locked them into position. I soon noticed that my fingers could not get to the knots.

My upper body was next, ropes above and below my breasts, pulled together by several cinches, my upper arms tied to them so they were completely immobilized and I felt like having braces around my chest. My breasts were squeezed together at their base, the nipples poking out fully erect. He put me down on the floor, tying each ankle to its thigh.

My nipples became sore from rubbing on the hardwood floor. He got up and I tried to turn around, half succeeded.

He pushed me back on the floor then started to push something into my vagina. It felt cold and slippery and I screamed. "No, worry, just a vibrator." Why should that be reassuring? I squirmed, tried to close my legs, but it was easy for him to keep the upper hand. Once done, he wrapped ropes around my waist, then between my legs. He pulled hard, so the ropes slipped between my buttocks and pressed onto the pubic bone. Further cinches between my ankles, wrists and elbows, and I was trussed up, could not move much more than my fingers and toes, and feeling full from the ropes pressing on my vagina and the vibrator inside.

He was not done. He threw a rope over the ceiling beam, pulled a chair under it, put me on my knees onto the chair and fastened the rope to the one around my chest so I couldn't slip off. He then proceeded with throwing three more ropes over the beam and fastened them at various places on my body. I wondered how many meter of ropes were wrapped around me.

"Ready?"

Ready for what? He loosened the first rope that had held me on my knees then removed the chair. I was slowly gliding down until I was hanging face forward about one meter above the floor, with my spine parallel to the floor. I couldn't really figure out where the ropes were holding me up, the pressure was quite evenly distributed across my body, firm but no pain. I noticed that I was hanging no more than half a meter from his workplace.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Eeeae."

"I take that as a Yes."

He produced a penis shaped gag and showed it to me. "Do you want this or rather the real thing?"

"Eeeae."

"I take that as a Yes again." He pushed the rubber piece into my mouth 'til I almost choked from the tickle in my throat; then fixed it to the ring gag so I was unable to push it out.

For good measures he added the blindfold then turned the vibrator on.

Why did I insist on him doing the dishes?

The vibrator was set low. Given the manner I was hanging in the ropes, I could no longer press my legs together and somehow he had missed my clit with all the meters of ropes around me. I was squirming, twisting, no luck. The bee was humming inside me, making me crazy but keeping me far from the real thing. From time to time I felt his hand on my crotch and body. He twisted my nipples 'til they throbbed, caressed my belly, and let his fingers dance around the clit.

After what appeared like an eternity, he stopped the vibrator and removed the penis gag. I was panting. He pulled me upright, trickled some juice into my mouth then put the gag back.

"Next time I give you some juice, I will ask you about what you give me if I get you to orgasm. Think about it. These vibrators have a long life. Somewhere around six hours."

A switch and the buzz was back.

I was wild when he again removed the gag, then loosened the ring so I could speak half intelligently.

"Two hours down, four more to go. What do you have to offer?"

"I do the dishes."

He laughed. "Not good enough, one more try."  He showed me the penis gag. I ignored him. "I will bring you coffee tomorrow morning."

He looked at me. "You really love this, don't you?" I ignored the question, did not want to admit the truth.

He fixed the gag, then hunched down and whispered, "Remember what I told you about honesty. I will get a new set of batteries." A click and I went into my next spiral of Alan-mania. He increased the setting and introduced a couple of peaks, getting me close but never over.

When I got juice next time, I offered him a massage and that I would clean the ropes.

He showed me the new batteries then sent me back to buzz. I guess, I now had his full attention. He was playing the controls 'til I was close to peeing myself. I had to call defeat. When he removed the gag, I said, "A cold shower then Plain vanilla sex."

His eyes widened with surprise.

The good thing was that he had to get me down. It took him about 20 minutes to remove most of the ropes. He left the ones tying my ankles to my thighs. He turned me on my back, tied my wrists above my head to a table leg, pushed several pillow under me.

"You should know that you can say no. I will not get you back onto the beam." Then with a smirk, "I will simply keep the fresh batteries for tomorrow."

"Alan, it's okay. I really want this."   He saw that I was serious.

I wondered afterwards whether fresh batteries would have worked faster. He cherished every seconds, drew it out to the maximum possible. I was absolutely deflated when we were done. He removed the cords around my legs then carried me to the bathroom to pee. I never realized going to bed.

The next days were absolutely crazy. The master bed now had double occupancy, and we went from sex to something deeper. While at the cottage, I never got back into clothes again, nor was I able to cook or feed myself. I wore the leather cuffs and collar unless we were in the shower or Jacuzzi where he used steel cuffs. We went rock climbing, and he found plenty of other uses for the ropes during the rest of the time.  

It was towards the end of the first week; we had roped our way up a difficult cliff and were sitting on a shelf, enjoying the view and a simple lunch. Alan had been moody the whole morning, hardly said a word and I was wondering what was wrong.

"Peanut, I want to take this further."

"What do you mean?"

"So far this has been a game. I no longer want it to just to be a game. Can you imagine taking this further and making a stronger commitment?"

"Are you asking me to marry you?" I was half joking, half serious.

"Not yet, I am simply asking whether you could imagine that we are going towards that point of decision."

I was thinking about it. Yes, I definitely had strong feelings for Alan. Wrong. I was absolutely addicted to him, probably the first man with whom I could imagine a life together. But could I adapt to his lifestyle?

"How do you want to take this further?"

"As I said, so far this has simply been fun. You explored your first taste of b/d. B/d is part of who I am and you sense that it may also be part of who you are. Tell me what do you feel when you submit?"

This was a difficult question. Alan had given me plenty of choices, in many aspects I had determined the pace and decided how far to go. Then there were the times when he asked me to do things, to obey, where there seemed not much of a choice, emphasized by the tone in his voice. Also, he always locked me to the bed at night, making it obvious that I was not free to get up on my own, not even to go and pee. I loved it and hated it and because I hated it, I loved it even more.

Then I discovered that there was more in the answer. I may have been the one to set the pace, but he had always been the one to set the direction. And I had agreed to it. Even now, he set the direction of asking for more commitment. I could decide whether to proceed, I doubted that I could suggest a different route. It also seemed that he wanted to influence more strongly how fast to set the pace. And he had made decisions about me, where to challenge me, where to mold me.

I was almost scared to answer. "It feels right... but sometime it also hurts."

"When does it hurt?"

"When it's changing me, when you are..." I was at loss of words.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I think so." It did not sound very convincing.

"Taking this further means that I want you to submit more conscientiously to me. I no longer want you to think it is an option, a game we play."

"Alan, you go too fast and far. I do not know whether I am ready for this."

"I think you are. I am ready for it. If you don't agree, we have another two weeks of fun then say good-bye."

"Why don't we leave the decision to the next two weeks then?"

"Because this is not about 'let's try', it's about making a decision."

"So, you want me to accept you as my master? Do you want me to call you 'master'?" I was angry now, wanted to hurt him as he was hurting me.

His eyes narrowed, then became soft again. "Peanut, this is as much about me as it is about you. I can't take this any further, unless I know from you that you can imagine going all the way together. I love you. I don't want to lose you. But if you can't imagine it, I rather want to know it now."

I was thinking about it for a long time. Then I said, "Yes, Alan, I can imagine going further and I do want to go further."

"Even if it hurts?"  

"Even if it hurts, isn't that part of it?"

He looked at me in a strange manner. Then he smiled. "Come with me."

He took my hand and led me to the back of the shelf where the cliff was going up for another 100 meters. The shelf was about ten meters at its widest point, 25 meters long, absolutely level. The grass had dried from lack of rain. There were a couple of dwarfed trees, hardly man-sized, trying to make a living on the ledge.

Alan spread a blanket then undressed me and himself. He said, "Don't talk anymore." We made love, sweet and soft love. He was so tender, I almost cried. I felt safe. We were far away from any house. Even with a pair of binoculars, I doubted that anybody would be able to see us on the back of the ledge.

Afterwards he said, "Remember, I don't want you to talk. Go and pee, try to relieve yourself then come back here." He gave me a wad of tissue paper and got dressed. I was curious, somewhat scared, but followed suit. I went to the farther end of the ledge and relieved myself where the rain had washed a hole into the ground. I heard Alan hammering and thought that he was rigging our return. I covered the waste and tissue paper with some rocks and grass pads, feeling like I must not soil this beautiful spot. Then I went back.

Next to the blanket, Alan had hammered three pickets into the rock, each about 20 cm above the ground, 80 cm apart. A forth one was placed higher, about one meter above the ground. I was looking at him questioningly.

I was still naked, just wearing the collar and the cuffs. He produced two padlocks. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

I obeyed, feeling that I had given him a promise, my heart heading towards my crouch.

He locked my wrists and ankles. He lifted me down onto the blanket, with my back towards the cliff. He used ropes to tie my ankles, wrists and collar to the pickets, firm, so I couldn't move more than a wiggle away from the cliff.

He rigged a bottle of water upside down hanging from the highest picket. It had a nipple, so if I turned and lifted my head, I could suck water out of it, otherwise it stayed sealed.

Then he asked me to drink more water from a second bottle. Every time I stopped, he urged me to take more, 'til I thought I was bursting. Trepidation grew.

He spread another blanket over me then produced a blindfold. I shook my head. He nevertheless put it on and pulled it tight.

I heard him packing the gear then he left. I was alone.

For the first few hours, I had an absolute thrill. I was aroused, and clenched to get me closer to an orgasm. The way my hands were tied, I couldn't get them between my legs, as much as I wanted to.

Later I felt a slight pang of hunger. I fell asleep.

I woke up several times during the night. The ground was hard, I felt chilly, my bladder was filling up. I needed to pee.

When morning came, I was hungry, the urge to pee harder. I was thinking about the full water bottle above me and realized that he would not come back so soon. I explored the ropes behind me. I strained, twisted 'til I was exhausted and covered in sweat. He had positioned all the knots so far away from my hands, I couldn't even touch them with my fingertips. The pickets were firm, did not budge by a single notch. I tried to turn around to get my teeth onto the leash on my collar. I couldn't.     

All the twists only resulted in one achievement. The blanket slipped off me which was okay since it was quickly getting warmer.

Close to noon, I couldn't hold it any longer. I peed, started to cry.

I drank some water then fell asleep again.

When I woke up in the afternoon, I was very hungry and sore from lying now for 24 hours in the same position. He must be coming back by the evening I thought. I shifted position, drank more water. By the evening, the bottle was empty and I had peed again.

The night was cold. I tried to get back under the blanket. I finally managed, using my teeth, toes and tiny shuffles. Nevertheless I was awake for most of the night. I was thinking, what if he is not coming back, but knew that it could not be true. What about if he has an accident? That scare lasted somewhat longer.  

I was cold and hungry, disgusted by lying in my pee. But I also knew with great clarity what he was doing. He established his dominance over me, I submitted. I was not gagged. I could scream for help, but I didn't. I accepted for him to do this to me.  

During the following day, it became tough. I was feeling light-headed, the hunger pains bad. I had no more water, my lips cracked. I had to fight the urge to relieve myself. Above all, the pain in my shoulders, hip and leg had become close to unbearable. I was getting desperate, fearing that I could not do what he expected me to do. But I did not scream for help, did not even swear.

I was relieved when I heard him coming back in the evening. He removed the blindfold, looked at me. He didn't say anything, just gave me a kiss then untied me from the rock. He unlocked my wrists then connected them again in front. I yelped from the pain when he moved my arms, once again when he lifted me up.

He put me down nearby, gave me water then washed me until I felt half-way clean again. He spread two sleeping bags and put me down on top of them so I was comfortable. He positioned my arms above my head and tied them to a tree. He fed me, cautioned me to eat slowly then checked for sores. I had some large tender spots but no broken skin. He undressed, spread another blanket over us, untied my arms from the tree but kept them locked. As I fell asleep, I heard him whispering, "Peanut, you are one amazing woman."

When we woke up the next morning, we first made love then ate breakfast. He had given me permission to speak again but strange enough neither of us wanted to talk. We were like wrapped in a spell, I felt different, proud about who I was. I also felt different towards Alan, like I had exposed a raw wound to him, willing for him to touch it.

"Do you feel strong enough to go down the cliff?" I nodded.

He removed the padlock from between my wrists and gave me my clothes, helmet and climbing harness. We took it slowly and it was past lunch time when we were back at the cottage.

"I need to run into town to get us some more food. Do you want to come along or stay here?" I chose to stay, take a shower and catch up on sleep. While the water was pounding down on me, I was wondering why he did not use the time to buy food when I was up on the ledge. I thought I knew why.

I woke up in the evening. He was sitting behind his laptop, the smell from the stove promising dinner on its way. I was dressed in my usual attire, five leather bands and skin. I walked over to the stove to see what was in the oven. He walked behind me, locked my wrists and started to caress my neck and shoulder. I convinced him that I needed food before making love.

"The chicken will need some more time. Let's begin with the starter. Whoever brings the other to cum faster wins, tongue only. The time difference determines the number of free future blow jobs, whenever, wherever, however. Who goes first?" His eyes were twinkling. I was game and let him go first.  

He got a spreader bar and fastened each of my wrists and ankles to its respective side. He added ropes around my lower legs and arms and I was already getting aroused as he pulled them tight. "Hey, that's not fair."

He just laughed. "That's your problem. I haven't even touched you."

He threw a rope over the beam and pulled me up 'til my crotch was at a convenient height, legs and arms spread out. He started the clock on his laptop then dove in. It took him exactly 16 minutes to get me to cum.

He lowered me to the floor, got me off the spreader bar, put the two padlocks between ankles and wrist cuffs, then positioned me on my knees, and pulled out his dick. He started the clock. I went about it fast, but he put up some good resistance. I thought he was close when the clock on the laptop showed 12 minutes, I sat back. His eyes grew wider as he saw me waiting for the 16 minutes to pass. Then I got back on, slowly, drew it out and made him cum after 24 minutes. I swallowed most of it.

He laughed so hard, I thought he would choke.

He got the food. I tried to get up which was difficult with my hands locked behind my back. He said, "Stay." I waited expecting him to help me up. Instead, he got the blindfold, mounted it and positioned me next to his chair. He fed me while on my knees. Again, it changed something in me. Butterflies were dancing in my belly, I felt the tickle of my juices running down my thighs.  

Later, we were lying on the floor in front of the fire, using the sleeping bags, blankets and some pillows for comfort. He was in a half sitting position and had pulled me between his legs, my head resting on his chest. The blindfold was gone but otherwise I was still cuffed.

"Peanut, once the three weeks are over and you agree, I want us to fully commit. At the same time, I want you to go permanent."

Tell me something that beats directness. A cold hand gripped my heart, my throat became drier than it ever had been on the ledge, my mind went blank.

After a while, I managed to croak, "Alan, this is too fast."

He said. "No it's not. Think about it."

He carried me to bed. I could not sleep. I tossed around, 'til he got some rope and immobilized me. Strange enough, it helped me to fall asleep.

When I woke up, I was stiff and felt like a truck had run over me. He saw it, and we started the day in the Jacuzzi. He put the handcuffs in front, so I could hold my own coffee cup. The butterflies were back in my stomach. It got so bad, I just managed to get out, ran a few meters into the nearby forest where I threw up.  

He brought me a wet towel and helped me to clean myself. Then he led me back to the Jacuzzi. He got me a cup of tea.

"Bad, eeh? Let's talk about it. Do you love me?"

"Yes, Alan, I do."

"So what's then the problem?"

"Why do you ask me to go permanent?"

"Because it is the strongest expression of our commitment to each other, the greatest obligation I could ever enter."

"But it will be me to wear them." I whispered it.

"Yes, but as I put them onto you, I tie myself more strongly to you than any steel band could do."

"So, why don't you let me then wear similar "virtual" steel? Or we could just stay with leather bands. I can wear them permanently."

"Because I want your trust, as absolute as my commitment to you will be."

It was plain and hard.

After a while I asked, "What about if I am not ready?"

"Then, we will wrap up three wonderful weeks and you will proceed with your trip."

"Just like that?"

"No, not just like that. I am not ready to go further into our partnership, knowing that either of us can call quits at any time, decide to not go further. I want to go the whole way with you. You are too precious to stop anywhere before that. I could make the step today, but I know you need more time. However, the three weeks will be the limit."

I remained silent, trying hard to keep my composure, my lips trembling.

He took our empty cups and went inside to make breakfast.

I was looking at the steel cuffs on my wrists, pulled at them, trying to imagine how it would feel to have steel welded permanently onto me. I couldn't finish the thought.

When he brought out the breakfast on the deck, I got out. He helped me to towel off then removed the cuffs, but did not put the leather bands back. I was able to eat on my own. That is, he ate, I simply pushed the food around on the plate.

"Peanut, you have to eat."

I ate a few bites then put down the fork.

He cleaned up. I remained sitting on the deck, stirring and slowly drinking my tea. I saw him moving one of the deck chairs into the shade under a nearby tree. Then he brought out a bucket of water, a paper package and his toolbox.

He came back and knelt down in front of me.

"Peanut, I want to take your measurements and make the molds. It will take about a week to have the restraints made. I promise you, I will not put them onto you without your consent."

The worst thing was that he did not restrain me. I wished he had dragged me over to the chair with force and spread-eagled me. Instead I went on my own, held out my arms and legs as he put a cast on each of my limbs.

He used plaster. The molds were made over my wrist bones but above my ankle bones. Once dry, he cut the casts off carefully. Then he measured out my entire body. Using a felt pen, he made marks at various places, asked me to bend and stretch while he took the measurements. He worked fully concentrated. I did not oppose.

When he was done, he pulled me to my feet, took my face in his hands and kissed me.

"Take a shower and get dressed, we need to courier the molds off immediately."

When driving into town, I asked, "Can you tell me a bit more?"

"It will be the usual five, wrists, ankles and collar. I want a metal-carbon alloy. The bands can be made very thin but are absolutely firm. You could smash a hammer down on them and they would not bend nor crack. Imagine two-inch bands, about one-eighth of an inch thick. They have a special coating on the inside, so no cuff burns. They will be harder than the leather cuffs and will take some time to get used to. The collar will be a chain, made from the same metal. Many people will not even realize that it has anything to do with bondage."

"How do you put them on?"

"The bands come in two halves, teeth on one side, a grove on the other. As you squeeze them together, they lock inside, no possibility to open them anymore. The same for the ring that closes the collar."

"And how can they be taken off?"

"They can't. You would need specialized equipment. Indeed, I know only of one place where it could be done, and it would not be easy. So, you need to be absolutely sure you want this."  

We stopped at the courier agent and he dropped off the package while I waited in the car. I looked at the wrist bands then touched my collar. "Helens collar" I corrected myself. Anger was growing in me. Why was he pushing me so hard?

When he returned and got into the Land Cruiser, I said, "You and Helen took at least two years to decide. Why do you want me to decide in three weeks? Do you think that you can prevent me from being run over by a truck?"

I was looking for an outlet for my anger. I knew I hurt him. I didn't look at him. I heard him drawing in his breath sharply, but he did not answer. He started the car and we drove back in silence.

After a while, I said, "I am sorry."

Again he did not answer.

At the cottage, he said, "Go for a walk. Think. When you come back, be prepared for some time out." His voice was hard, his eyes tense.

I went to the kitchen, made myself a sandwich and drank some apple juice. He was sitting at his laptop when I left.

I was out for several hours. I got more and more confused. Yes, I loved Alan with all his edges and quirks. Apart from great sex and fun, he had opened an absolutely new dimension of partnership to me, and I felt comfortable with it, more I wanted it. But what about if I made the step and he turned out differently than I thought he would be? What if I discovered one day that b/d was just not my thing anymore? What about if I no longer wanted to submit? But then, could I imagine a life without him?

As I returned, his threat of 'time out' only added to my turmoil.

I entered the cottage with trepidation. It indeed felt like entering the lair of a wolf rather than returning to a cozy holiday place.

He was still working. Without looking up, he said, "Go to the bathroom, get undressed then come back."

I did, being nude no longer anything unusual. When I returned, I remained standing between sofa and the dining table, undecided what to do. He continued to work for another minute, then got up, walked over to me. He looked at me 'til I lowered my eyes.

"Turn around, hands behind your back." I did and he locked them.

"Get down on you knees."  I did.

"Cross your ankles." I did and he locked them.

He put the posture collar around my neck then pulled a rope between my wrists and the collar, tightening it so that my hands were pulled up harshly. I cried out. "One more sound, and I gag you."

He added another rope between my wrists and ankles, pulling it again tight so that I had to sit back.

He walked around me.

"Spread your knees." I did.

"Wider." I did.

He added a spreader bar, pulling my knees out by another 10 cm. I suppressed a groan.

Then he added the blindfold which he pulled tight.

I heard him walking back to the dining room table and resume his work.

The position was uncomfortable, the floor hard on my knees, legs quickly getting numb, the pull on my shoulders and elbows, the tendons straining in my thighs. With the spreader bar, my legs formed a triangle, and the cords between the collar, wrists and ankles centered me in a manner, I could not easily tumble over. Except for some insignificant wiggles, I was immobilized.

After a while, I thought I could take it no longer, but time just went on and on. I heard him preparing dinner, the smell of pasta promised an end to the ordeal. Instead he ate. Afterwards he came over. I felt a spoon being held to my lips. It was cold bland porridge. After a couple of spoons, I wanted to refuse. "Eat or otherwise you stay here longer than you think possible." I forced the food down then got some water.

He went back to work.

It must have been well past midnight when he finally released me from the spreader bar. He laid me down on one side, disconnected the rope between my ankles, wrists and collar, so I was able to stretch out, tied a leash from the collar to the sofa then put a blanket over me. All done in silence and with such great tenderness, tears were burning in my eyes.

He remained standing next to me for several minutes then went to bed.

The abandonment was harder than any ache in my body. I wished he had tightened my ankles instead of releasing them. I knew one thing: I didn't want to lose him.

I was woken up with a kiss, then a finger on my lips indicating me to keep silent. He put me on my feet, then removed the leash, padlocks and leather, but left the blindfold on. He massaged my shoulders and arms before pulling them in front for some steel cuffs. His touch was extremely sensual and I was immediately getting aroused. He put his hand on my shoulder and guided me to the bathroom. I felt that he was naked.

We went into the shower and he washed me, slowly, carefully, like we had all the time in the world. He turned me around to face the wall, placed my hands above my head against the wall, shaved my legs and underarms then washed me once more. He lifted me out of the shower, put me down on the floor. He motioned me to spread my legs. I automatically lifted my arms above me head, like I wanted to fully expose my vulnerability to him. He put shaving cream on my crotch. I felt him tightening the skin, then the razor blade. It took all my efforts to lay still.

When he finished, he cleaned me with a hot wet towel, then used his finger to draw lines on my body, from the nipples, to the naval, to the labia, to the clit. I could hold it no longer, my back arched. He lifted me up, took me back into the shower where he entered me, I wrapped my legs around him. The water was coming down for no more than three minutes 'til we both got to orgasm. I never felt safer in my life.

He was still in me when he took off the blindfold.

"Time for breakfast." He said, his eyes soft.

I said. "Alan, I am really sorry."

"I know." Then with mock anger, "Get your leather cuffs, otherwise you will be even more sorry." We both laughed.

While we were preparing breakfast, I asked, "What do you want to do today?"

"I know a nice cliff with a great view. Are you up for it?" I nodded.

Three hours later, we were halfway up a cliff. It was a beautiful day. It had rained during the night and the air was crystal clear. While I was waiting for Alan to secure himself above me, I saw a few cottages far away, otherwise no indication of any other people around.

Alan took a long time and I heard him hammering more than usual. "Everything okay?" I shouted.

"Yes, you can come now."

I climbed up towards him. I had gained quite some confidence and enjoyed the sport. As I climbed up, my helm hit his feet and I realized he was sitting on a narrow ledge, his legs on each side of the security rope.

"Can't you move over?"

"No, come on up."

When my head was level with his crotch, he rapidly fastened two carabineers on each side of my harness, preventing me to move any higher or lower. He also tied my usual security rope to a picket behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Remember, you owe me eight blow jobs one for each minute difference between your and my orgasm the other night, 'wherever, whenever and however'. This seems like a nice spot."   He opened his shorts and pulled out his cock.

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh yes I am. Stop stalling!"

"Alan, we are in view of the whole world."

"So, what? I hope they will enjoy the fun with us."

He saw my questioning look at the ropes securing him and me.

"Peanut, I will have to tackle your lack of trust. Get going." He was serious.

Tell me about a predicament. I pulled myself into position, tried to get a better foot and handhold then started cautiously. Even though I felt secured by the ropes in quite an effective manner, I kept my hands and feet on the rock, leaving the entire work to my mouth. Not easy.

"Great view from here. I wonder whether any of the cottages over there are for sale? How are you doing down there? Don't forget you will have to swallow it all. I don't want that any of my precious juice gets onto the ropes. It makes them far too slippery."

I had to stop from laughing.

"Like this, you will never get there. Anybody ever taught you how to do this properly?"

"Tell me, you are the victim!"

He pointed out the spots he liked, told me how to use my tongue and lips, all this good 100 meters above safe ground. The guy was crazy. It took me over half an hour to make him cum, he enjoyed every second of it and hollered loudly when he finally ejaculated his load into my throat.

"That was great. Seven more to go. I guess I’ll ask you to do the next upside down."

I didn't doubt that he was serious.

"Well, it's your own doing." He laughed again. I was blushing remembering how I let the time elapse when I 'competed' with him for making the other cum.  

"Come on, get up onto this ledge, so I can have my lunch." He saw disbelief in my eyes. "No worry, I go for sandwiches and leave the cum to you." I was relieved.

He helped me up and secured me to the rock.

As we were chewing on our sandwiches, he said, "Peanut, if you agree to go permanent, I will take you out of your comfort zone much more than this. I will not tell you what I will do, but some of it will not be easy."

Another example of him cutting right to the point. My heart skipped a beat.

"Will you give me the option to say no?"

"Sometimes, yes; when it really matters, no. In some instances, you will not even be able to communicate, at least not verbally."  

I was really getting scared.

"I want to take you along a path discovering who we are, individually and together. I will try to get into parts of your senses and brain where you usually do not go. I will stretch you 'til you think that you cannot go further and then force you to take another leap. You will submit 24/7. At least at the beginning and I do not tell you for how long, I will isolate you 'til you and I are the only ones that exist. You will feel that I take you apart and you will not like it."

"What if I cannot go further, or I do not like what I discover?"

"There will be no return; the restraints are a symbol of that. The only thing that you can build up on is your trust, in yourself and me. I do not want to break you, I want to discover what is precious in us and between us, and let it grow."

"You really ask for a lot."

"Yes, I know, but listen to your instincts. What do they tell you?"  

I thought, 'That I am safe' but did not say anything. Indeed, I didn't say anything else 'til we finished lunch, were ready to go and had to discuss the next climb ahead.

We climbed higher. There was another ledge about 10 meters below the top of the cliff. It was about 3 meters wide. Alan told me to wait, then climbed higher and disappeared. After about ten minutes, he threw several ropes down the cliff, then came down and joined me.     

"Turn around. Put your hands on your back." I hesitated then did what he asked me. He fastened the padlock. "Lie down." He locked my ankles then tied my legs together above and below my knees. He rigged two of the ropes coming down from the cliff to my harness and the ties around my legs, so the ropes were leading up from between my feet to the cliff.

"Alan, what are you doing?" There was definite panic in my voice.

He added another rope to a ring in the harness situated between my shoulder blades.

"As I told you, I want the next blow job from you upside down." With that he started to rapidly pull me up. I started to scream, trying to bend upwards, jerking like a fish on a hook. He pulled me up for at least five meters then increased the length of the rope that was running from my shoulders down to him. This made me slide sideways, 'til my head was no longer over the ledge, a free fall of close to 150 meters was below me.

I stopped screaming.

"Peanut, are you okay?" He shouted.

I did not give him the benefit of an answer.

He climbed after me, also secured by two lines, 'til he was straddling me. He saw that I was still breathing, my eyes open. He connected a rope between his and my harness, drove two pickets into the rock, turned around so he was between me and the cliff facing out, then secured himself to the rock.

"Peanut, we are both absolutely secure. Just enjoy."    

"I assume this is what you call a leap."

He smiled and pulled out his cock. "Remember there are six more after this one."

The situation was so absurd, I started to giggle then said, "You should know that there is a real danger that I pee myself, don't be surprised if you get wet."

"Don't you dare!"

I took him in my mouth, slightly biting down on him.

"Peanut!"

"Well, tell me about a predicament. What do you trade in for the other six?" I giggled so hard I lost him.

"If you bite me, I leave you hanging for the night," he joked. "However, I give you a token since you almost got the upper hand. So, I will trade two blow jobs against one anal penetration."

Leap? This guy was asking me to jump to the moon! I’d never had an anal penetration.

"Six to one."

"Four to one."

"Deal."

"Can you still cum, I mean you have already come twice today."

"Peanut, shut up and get going. And don't you ever dare to challenge my manhood." We laughed so hard, my belly muscles became sore.  

I was glad when he came fast. There was no way I could swallow it upside down. He knew it and he pushed me off the moment he came.

The blood was pounding in my temples when he lowered me back down onto the ledge. He untied me, secured me with a rope then let me recover, before we climbed up to the top, collected the ropes and drank some water.

He said to me, "You keep surprising me." I was embarrassed and I blushed.

We were now further away from the cottage and hence picked up quite a fast pace to get back through the forest. On our way, we passed the holiday cottages which I had seen while on the cliff. A man was standing outside and it was obvious that he knew Alan.

"You had a lot of fun up there!"

I turned red like a beetroot.

"Peanut, this is Marc. Marc, meet Melanie. Yes, indeed, we had a great day. Don't come much better than this." They both laughed.

Marc offered us a drink and we accepted. While sitting outside on his deck and sipping home-made lemonade, I was introduced to Marc. He was a lawyer, and apparently had known Alan for quite a while.

"I’m very glad to see the two of you so happy. It seems it is a match dangling from heaven."

"So you saw everything."  

"Of course, couldn't miss the screams. My binocs gave me a prime show. I never knew that one could seed the clouds so literally. I hope it gets us some more rain." The two men laughed again. I wished there was a hole to creep into.

"Marc, there is actually a reason I wanted to see you. Could you draw me up a PoA and the standard paperwork?"

"Sure, can you give me more details?"

Alan looked at me then said, "Yes, in a couple of days I hope."

"Just tell me whenever you are ready. I will be here for another two weeks."

The two guys could have spoken Chinese, I did not understand what they were talking about, but I realized it had something to do with my decision.

Later as we walked towards our cottage, I asked Alan about it.

He took my hand, then said, "B/d couples are not well accommodated by the law. I could go to prison, if somebody or you accused me of wrongful imprisonment or bodily harm. That's why b/d couples started to use formal letters of consent, a copy of which is deposited with a lawyer."

That sounded reasonable, even though it gave me a queasy feeling to the stomach.

"Then there is the power of attorney. I don't want to marry you; I want to get a power of attorney from you."

That about stopped me in my tracks.

"So you want control over my money?" My world was collapsing. "Is this just about money?" I almost screamed it.

He pulled me around, grabbed both of my arms. I started to struggle. "You bastard!"

"Melanie, listen to me."

I didn't. I tried to get away from him. He wouldn't let go. I kicked him, turned and ran. He came after me and pushed me down to the ground, so hard that I rolled on my back. He straddled me, pinning my arms to my sides. I was screaming, he pressed his hand over my mouth. I tried to bite him, fought him with everything I had. No chance. He finally pulled a shoe and sock off me, and pushed the sock into my mouth, until I almost gagged. He turned me around and locked my wrists and ankles. I started to cry.

"Peanut, listen to me. Please calm down. This is exactly not about money."

I finally started to listen. He saw it.

"If I were married to you, I would be your next of kin and heir, in case you die. I want to be your next of kin, but I don't want to be your heir. I am not interested in your money, whether you have any or not. It should stay out of our partnership. But I want to have every right to take care of you, like I had if I were married to you. I can do that with a power of attorney that specifies my rights towards you. That's all I want, and both you and I have to sign it."

He let the words sink in.

After a while he asked, "Can I untie you now? Will you be quiet?"  

I nodded. He removed the sock then unlocked the padlocks. He tried to help me up. At this stage, the events of the past days swamped over me and I pushed him away. I hissed at him, "Don't touch me."

He took a step back, a whole flood of emotions running over his face. I did not care.

I moved back from him, sat down with my back against a tree, wrapping my arms around my knees. "Don't touch me." I shivered. I was absolutely terrified of him.

He stood back, waited. "What is it, Peanut?"

I didn't answer. After a while I said, "I want to talk to Marc, alone."

"Fine by me. Let's go to the cottage and I drive you over in the Land Cruiser."

"No, I walk back. You proceed."

"Peanut, I will not let you walk over on your own. It is getting dark."

"I am not your property!" I shouted it at him. I pulled the sock and shoe back on, turned around and walked away. He let me go.

I was over half an hour away from Marc's cottage. I stumbled through the dark, scared, bumped into trees. I thought I heard him coming after me, ran, fell several times. I was glad when I finally saw lights ahead of me.

I hammered at Marc's door. He was surprised when he saw me. "What happened to you?"

He took me inside. I was bleeding from several cuts, my T-Shirt was torn. He asked me again.

I said, "Alan and I had a fight. Can I talk to you?"

"Sure."  

He settled me down on a sofa and brought me a cup of cocoa and a blanket. I asked him to see some identification that proved that he indeed was a lawyer. He obliged. I finally calmed down.

I asked him about the 'Power of Attorney' and he confirmed what Alan had told me. He then said, "I better give you some more background."

"Alan and Helen were not married and they did not bother about the paperwork. When Helen had the accident, she did not die. She was brain dead. Her parents insisted that she be kept alive. Alan had no possibility to influence their decision; he was not her next of kin. She was hanging on the machines for weeks. I had known them for two years and knew how much he loved her. It broke his heart. With every day elapsing, a piece of him seemed to die. It was hard to watch. When she finally died, I didn't think he would ever get over it. Indeed, this afternoon when I saw him with you, the way he was looking at you, he seemed like a new and healed person."  

"I fear that he sees Helen in me."

"I doubt it very much. First of all, you seem very different to her. Also, I am sure that Alan is aware of it and would steer against it if he had any such feelings. I mean he is a psychologist after all."

"Nevertheless, he wants to get a 'Power of Attorney' because of her. I don't plan to get run over by a truck."

"I would advise any couple to make one, unless they got married. If you want, I can show you the standard forms and explain the details to you. I suggest, however, we eat some dinner first. And you may want to clean yourself up a bit." The latter he said with a smile.

He showed me to the bathroom, gave me a fresh towel and indicated where I would find something to disinfect the cuts. I had the leather cuffs and collar on and no keys, so I could not shower. I cleaned myself with the wet towel then tended to the cuts.

I was still a mess when I joined Marc in the living room again. He had a frozen pizza in the stove. "Sorry I am not as great a cook as Alan is. Say, I would like to phone Alan, let him know that you are okay. As I know him, he will be worried about you."

"As long you don’t tell him what we are talking about."

"I can't anyway. Client confidentiality."

"I guess I have to give you a retainer." He smiled.

He talked briefly to Alan, told him that I was fine and that he would drive me over either tonight or the next day, whenever I was ready.

Over dinner, I asked him why he knew so much about b/d. "I play with it, far from the way Alan is into it. For me it's a game, a turn on, for him it is who he is." And upon my questioning look, "I am a sub, responding to female dom."

He was looking just like a normal person to me. Somewhat private, but very confident whether we talked about legal or personal issues.

I said, "You know it’s strange. Even though Alan is such a dom, he seems more tuned to emotions than many of the males I met in my life who would sneer at b/d because they see it as a contradiction to female emancipation."

"That's correct. However, you would find many forms of BDSM, so don't extrapolate based on what you experience with Alan."

After dinner he showed me both an example of a Consent form and a Power of Attorney, explained the way it could be modified, then gave me copies to take along.

He offered and I accepted using his guest bedroom for the night. I did not feel like I could confront Alan yet. Next morning, he drove me over to Alan's cottage before breakfast.

I walked into the cottage. Alan was sitting behind his laptop. He got up, his face a mask. It triggered my opposition and I felt that a distance had grown where there was none before.

"You decided to call the quits?"

"No."

"Then get undressed." There was anger in his voice.

"Alan..."

"Now!" He thundered.

I got out of my clothes.

He ordered me to hold out my arms. His voice was ice. He tied two ropes to either of the wrist bands then threw them over the beam. He put a spreader bar between my ankles then pulled up my arms 'til I could hardly stand anymore, my legs spread wide.

"Alan..."

He produced a gag. "Open your mouth." His face forbade any opposition. I resigned and he mounted it, pulling it tight, harshly.

Then he got the whip. I couldn't believe my eyes.

As he walked around me, I tried to keep him in my view.

"Eyes to the front and look down."

It took me all my efforts to do so. I started to tremble.

He walked back into my view, put the handle of the whip under my chin and pushed it up. I tried to keep my eyes down, preventing to look at him.

"You broke and retracted on trust. You gave in to your fear and without thinking or caring you destroyed most of what we had. There is only one answer to that. If you can't take it, you can leave after this, I do not care."

His words cut deeper than I could imagine any whip to do. I almost wanted it to come, to feel the pain. Yet I was not prepared when the first stroke hit my back. The pain was worse than anything I had ever experienced before. Strike after strike followed, he covered my back and legs, until I thought I had been skinned alive. Then he proceeded on the front, not sparing a single part of my body.

I screamed into the gag, I couldn't get enough air, my lungs straining to suck in sufficient air through the nose and through the hole in the gag. I started to choke; he did not care, kept beating me. I passed out several times. He waited 'til I gained my senses then continued. I was beyond desperation when he stopped as suddenly as he had started. He threw the whip onto the sofa then left the house, no word, not even a look at me.   I heard him driving away.

Pain and devastation mixed, my body aflame, my shoulders screaming from hanging in the restraints, his words repeating again and again in my ears. After a while I realized that I was keening like an animal.

I remained there for the whole day. The acute pain changed to a pain which was simply there, foreground to my existence, worse when I moved. I looked down at myself and saw my entire front covered in red welts.

He only came back in the evening. When he came inside, he walked passed me like I did not exist. I heard him moving things in the bedrooms.

Then he walked behind me. "I forbid you to speak 'til the marks on your body have disappeared. You will keep your eyes down. Don't you dare to look in my face! Do you understand and agree to it?" His voice was hard and chilling. I nodded.

He quickly removed the gag, let me off the spreader bar and ropes. I suppressed a scream when my arms came down. He removed the leather cuffs and collar and replaced them with two pairs of steel cuffs, each with no more than 20 cm of chain in between, hands on my back.

He took me to the bathroom, let me pee and relieve myself. He cleaned me then pushed me into the shower. He tried to be careful, but I nevertheless screamed when he washed me with warm water and later toweled the water off my skin. He put a salve on my welts. It was so bad he finally gave me a washcloth to bite on.

Then he took me through to the spare bedroom. He had emptied it out, moved his and my stuff to the master bedroom. There was now a thin rubber mat in one corner. He pushed me down on my knees. He put a chain around my neck and locked it to a beam above me, just long enough so I could lie down. A cross beam prevented the chain from sliding sideward, so I was essentially confined to the rubber mat. After looping the chain around my neck, there was about 50 cm spare and he connected it to the handcuffs, preventing that I could step over them and move my hands to the front.

He fed me cold pasta and water. I tried hard to not look at him, finally just closed my eyes.

With no further word, he turned off the light and left. I tried not to move, to keep my arms from touching my back, but I could not prevent it on the inside of my arms. Every breath irritated the welts under my arms; it got worse as my muscles went into spasm. I could not imagine lying down, it was bad enough just kneeling there.

I spent the first night standing or kneeling, putting my head against the wall, in between crying until I was too exhausted to cry.

After what seemed like an eternity, morning came. I was standing in the corner when he came in, my forehead pressed against the wall. For the first minute, he did not say anything, then, "Turn around." I did, keeping my eyes down. He requested me to kneel, voice absolutely toneless, then fed me cold porridge and water.   I was half asleep and not hungry, I simply ate because he pushed it into my mouth.

He took me through to the bathroom. I was glad he made it quick. I peed, he cleaned me, then put more salve on my body. The pain was less intense than the previous day. Then back to the spare bedroom. Before confining me to the rubber mat, he rubbed it down with a cleaning solution.  

By the early afternoon I was so tired I mustered the courage and sat on my buttocks, legs pulled up, leaning my head sideward against the wall for support. The pain was bad first, then just there. I remained like this for the whole afternoon, drifting in and out of sleep. When he entered, I stayed in the same position, eyes closed.

"Get on you knees." He watched me struggling to follow suit. "Spread your knees." Then, "Wider. Straighten your back, eyes down." He walked around me slowly. "I want you in this position whenever I come in here. I will not ask you again." His voice cold. He went out but left the door open, then came back with the food and water. Cold pasta again.

Then to the bathroom, toilet, brushing my teeth, shower, salve. The pain had lessened to one like intense sunburn, worse wherever there was pressure. He brought me back to my room, cleaned the mattress then left me on my knees. I finally lay down on my side and was asleep within seconds.

I was still very tired when it became light. My limbs felt like lead wrapped in pain. Nevertheless, I soon moved to my knees, exposed my vagina, eyes down. I heard him moving around, taking a shower. I realized that I was trembling and getting wet. What was my body telling me? I was still wondering about it when he came in.     

He walked around me then fed me the porridge. Then he pulled out his cock and guided it to my lips. He was completely limp, and it took me an effort to make him coming. I felt sad; tears were stinging in my eyes. I was thinking about the drastic difference to the last blow job up on the cliff. After I cleaned him up, I got water, then the bathroom break.

I slept through to the early afternoon then spent the afternoon sitting with my back to the wall. So far, my body had been in pure survival and recovery mode, now reflection took over. Most of all shame and anger at what I had done, I wanted to scream. I hated myself so much; I wished the pain were still stronger. I finally got into position early, torn between wanting him to come, hearing his voice and feeling his touch, and the desire to disappear into a non-existing mouse hole.

The only thing he said was, "Straighten your back." I tried. Then it was all mechanics. Chewing the pasta, swallowing the water, hobbling through to the bathroom, embarrassed waiting for him to clean me after the toilet, shower, holding still while he tended to the welts, yearning to feel his touch through the pain, shuffling back to another night in solitude. I was glad I was forbidden to look into his face.

The soreness had subsided. Still I couldn't sleep, tossed around, tried to find a spot where the pain was still strong. I wanted it to hurt. When I realized what I was doing, I almost screamed at myself.

I was in position and waiting for him long before I heard him getting up. I was hoping just for one thing, that I could give him a blow job. I went through the porridge fast and, indeed, he pulled out his cock. I tried to drag it out, give him the full pleasure, fearing at the same time that he would demand that I hurry up. He didn't. I swallowed it all, cleaned him till he there was nothing more to do then assumed my position.

He stood there for several minutes. I had the tip of his cock in my view but couldn't look up to check what was going on. So, I just waited, taking in his scent. Finally, he zipped up and took me to the bathroom.

Later on, I was sitting on the rubber mat, back to the wall. The swelling of the welts had almost gone, discoloration remaining. I looked at them wondering why I accepted him beating me in a most cruel way, punishing me for something where fault was probably on both sides. Indeed since I returned from Marc's place and entered the cottage, I never harbored a single thought of opposition. I had accepted the punishment, his request to keep quiet and not look at him, his decision to shackle and confine me. It felt right and I wondered why given that all my senses told me that it was wrong.

I was a proud woman, often joking that I could not cope with authority and indeed often challenging authority. And here I was, feeling my submission to him as the appropriate thing to do, his decisions over me the appropriate thing to accept. Why? Instinct? Evolutionary impact of a dominant male on a female, the animal in me in heat?

What was my mind telling me? The answer was simple. I couldn't envision going back to a life determined just by my job and the occasional fuck. Or imagine any of my previous boyfriends, all fitting modern rules of relationships, becoming a permanent outfit in my life, no way. He had a good sense of fun, depth, indeed was seeking for much more than the average person was happy with.  

A small voice in my head told me that he was also fucking my mind as he was playing with my body. I mean look at it. He was a psychologist and quite obviously used his repertoire on me, such as not being allowed to look at him. Cut her out of communication, make her insecure, tease her to want him sexually and she will be all yours.

Did I enter a relationship where I would be the one permanently lying on the couch, him analyzing me, correcting me, molding me to his liking? Would I lose my individuality and become no more than his puppet? Was I an equal partner?  

But then, he also used his psychological tricks on himself. He had chosen to do everything for me, down to wiping my ass: male chivalry taken to the extreme. He could have hobbled me with the leg chains and left the rest -- shower, toilet, brushing my teeth, eating -- to my own two capable hands. By chaining me up the way I was, he had tied himself to me -- in the same manner as he planned to do with permanent restraints. Strange courtship, all with considered intention.

And painful for me. My arms were stiff and sore from being confined behind my back. Fortunately there was a good amount of slack, so I could loosen them up, still my shoulders hurt and I could not lie on my back or comfortably on my side. Me punished. Was he being punished?

Then, what did he see in me? Not at all the classical beauty, good body but strange face. Given his own looks, he could probably still pursue and succeed with younger game. Okay, I accepted his unusual tastes, was sub where he was dom and have not yet taken him to the police. Was I just one in a series of conquests? But why was he then talking about going permanent? Maybe it was all a joke and he would tell me so at the end of our vacation. What if he gets tired of me?

I was turning around and around. As the day progressed, I started to understand one thing: I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want to sell out on the future because of fear. I wanted our relationship to proceed, not with too many beatings though. If he wanted it to be permanent, that was fine with me. I wanted his body, mind and spirit and if it belonged to me for the rest of our lives, even better.

Again, I was waiting for him long before he came. He made it quick, not a single word; I knew the routine, so no need to talk.

The following day I was hoping that he would release me, but he didn't. Worse, he didn't even want oral sex. He took me to the bathroom, and I thought that maybe he would want it afterwards. When he left, I felt like He’d slapped me in my face. The mouse hole looked attractive again. Why let me assume that he still wanted me after this? Didn't he say that he would not care if I chose to leave?

The day dragged on. I heard him moving about in the house, driving away and returning two hours later. I was yearning for him but knew that it was probably over. Why did I have to screw up? Why did I let my fear destroy our relationship? I could not bear it, but could only do one thing, to sit there and wait for him to decide on the next move. I wanted him, I wanted him so much.

When the day grew longer, I was back in position. He came in just before it got dark. He cut out the shower and the salve; apparently he wanted to make it quick. No word. I was now pretty sure that he would request me to leave the following day.

Indeed he came the next morning and removed all restraints.

"I assume you want to leave." I was surprised by the statement. What did it matter what I wanted? I shook my head.

Silence. I had to look up. Our eyes locked for part of a second before I lowered mine again. His eyes and face had been very serious, almost sad. I wanted to cry, but knew I did not have the right, given that my pain at this stage was all shame.

"I suggest you take a shower and come to breakfast."

It took me an eternity to get through with the shower. I washed my hair and decided to shave. He hadn't said that he wanted me to stay, the look on his face not promising.

I finally went out onto the deck. He was waiting. I didn't dare to look at him too afraid to see that it was over. I sat down, looking down at the food, waiting for him to tell me that he would drop me off at the bus stop or the airport. I finally could take it no longer.

"I assume, you want me to leave."

Seconds were elapsing, then, "I want you to stay, Peanut."

I looked up. A slight smile was playing on his face, not of somebody who won, simply replacing the sadness that I had seen before.

"Why?" I really could not understand.

A whole range of emotions were back on his face, surprise, anger, sadness.

"Because I love you. Because there is much more in you than you think there is..." After a while, he added, "I tell you, you have to work on your trust... Now stop asking difficult questions and eat."

I picked up my fork, noticing for the first time that I was sitting in front of pancakes with maple syrup. Before I dug in, I said, "Alan, the answer will be yes."

"Take your time. You still have 'til tomorrow evening to think about it."

We ate. I realized I still had troubles looking at him. After a while he asked, "What do you want to do today?"

"What about I give you another blow job, hanging upside down from that cliff?"

"I wish it were so easy to pick up from where our relationship took a dive. So, no."

I blushed, knew he was right. More embarrassment.

"I tell you what. You should probably correspond with your family and friends, given that you will be out of action for a while. I suggest, you introduce me to them by email and I can take it from there if anything arises. If there is any other business to take care of, do it now. In the evening, I will take you up to that ledge where I left you for two days and we’ll spend the night there. I have yet another cherry to pick."

He went inside. I saw him returning with a malicious smile on his face. He showed me a lubricated butt plug. I understood the cherry bit.

"Bend over."

He inserted it with some effort. I grunted as it slipped in. I was highly uncomfortable and my hand immediately went to my butt.

"Don't!" He thundered. "That's mine." For good measures, he put the leather cuffs and collar back and locked my wrists in front while connecting them with a chain to the collar so I could not reach below my belly button. I smiled at him, for the first time realizing and accepting that we were back on even ground.

He took me inside and sat me in front of his laptop. Sitting is probably the wrong word. I was either standing or kneeling on the chair, typing my emails with my hands locked together, head bent so I could reach the keyboard.

After about two hours, he changed to a bigger size. When I tried to object he said, "Otherwise it will take me the whole night to get into you." He had a good laugh, seeing me trying to get around. As time went on between aches, fullness and arousal, I started to wonder about the female internal wiring system.

After lunch, I showed him the emails sent, with a brief explanation of my relationships with the recipients. He asked me about my health insurance, but we did not touch on banking.

Before we left, he removed the plug and introduced me to an enema. I wondered why I had agreed to a 'Four to one' deal. It definitely was not anywhere close to an appropriate exchange rate.

On the way to the cliff, I asked him about the Power of Attorney. "I gave the details to Marc. You will see it before you sign." It was obvious that he did not want me to have a single say to the conditions. I was to sign or... 'Leap!' I thought.

We arrived just before sunset on the ledge, ate sandwiches for dinner, me already in the nude. After I went and peed, he tied each of my wrists to its corresponding ankles, put a spreader bar between them, so I had to raise my butt then roped a tight harness between my shoulders and knees, so I had to bend over. He finally tied me to the wall while pushing a blanket between the rock and my back, head down.

"Comfortable?"   

"Just about."

"You want a gag?"

"No."

He first probed with his fingers, tickled me until I giggled, then became more serious about the challenge at hand. Even though well lubricated, it took him over an hour to get completely inside me.

"Okay, I did the whole work so far, now it's to you to make me cum."

I was gazing at the stars between my legs as I tried to get a grip on how to stimulate him. What an upside-down world, I thought. Here I was in the most uncomfortable position, trying to take care of his pleasure while I got none. And in another twenty-four hours, I would sign away my rights and give him the power to do whatever he wanted to me.

But I stayed on the job. With wiggles, clenching and countless repetitions, I got fuller, 'til I thought that I felt the tip of his dick tickling my stomach. I was relieved when he finally got off in me.

After he slipped out, he hammered four pickets into the ground, put two blankets in between then got me in a spread-eagle. For the following hours, it was plain vanilla sex, him doing all the work, me enjoying the teasing of his tongue, teeth and lips, the pumping of his dick and the strain on my shoulders and legs. He ejaculated twice into my vagina, before we fell sound asleep.

We took the morning very quietly, ate another sandwich, before we roped down. It was the day I knew that he would put permanent restraints on me and I felt that our relationship was still very shaky, trying to strengthen its fledgling wings where the previous wings had been broken. As a result, my heart was hanging between my legs when we walked back to the cottage and I felt like throwing up.

We took a shower and went into the Jacuzzi 'til lunch time. Alan tried to loosen up my muscles, but had to give up.

I couldn't eat lunch. "Go for a walk but be at Marc's place by five o'clock. The papers will be ready to sign and I will pick you up by six." He had the leather restraints in his hands. "I will put these away."

I asked to stay. "No, this is your decision. And I do not want you to go to Marc's place earlier either. Understood?"

Tears were burning in my eyes. I said, "Alan..." He stopped me in my tracks.

"Peanut, I want no more talk. I want a decision."

I don't recall in detail how I spent the afternoon. There was chaos in my head, I felt dizzy. I finally found a spot where the hill and forest were descending in front of me, giving me a view of space and reminding me of the confines I would soon enter, the confines of his determination. Yet, it had not been that way over the past three weeks. I felt I had discovered more freedom in three weeks than over several years in the past.

As I was walking to Marc's place, I recalled Alan's cold fury when he was beating me. I was scared, my shoulders heavy, I knew I had to decide.

It was past five when I knocked at Marc's door. He opened immediately. There was concern in his face. "I already thought you would not be coming."

The papers were in his living room. The top page read 'Power of Attorney', then two pages of text. The Letter of Consent and two more copies were below.

"Are you really up to this, Melanie? I will witness your signature and I have to know."

I read them slowly, my brain not able to absorb any detail of the text, but I saw that Alan had already signed.

"Once you insert your name and sign, you will give Alan full legal power, his signature will carry the same weight as yours. Except that he requested that it excludes any financial transactions. Do you understand this?" I nodded.

In the same manner he explained the details of the letter of consent, and I nodded again. Yes, I understood, but did I want it?

Marc left me alone with my thoughts. They were absolutely blank. Finally with a sigh, knowing that I would never be ready, I picked up the pen and filled in my name and signature.

I heard Alan driving up. Marc came back to the living room. I handed pen and papers over to him. He looked at them then added his signature to them, his eyes silently acknowledging my courage.

Without any further words, he walked me outside where Alan was waiting next to the open passenger door. His eyes locked with mine. I nodded ever so slightly, a slight smile creeping into my face. He took me in his arms and gave me a kiss.  

I got inside the car and Alan fastened my seatbelt. Marc gave him one set of the papers and we drove off. At the cottage, Alan said, "Go and take a shower, I will make dinner, then it will be time."

I showered and shaved, let the water coming down on me 'til the hot water run out, went back to the bedroom, and looked around. My luggage was standing in a corner, still largely unpacked, the remainders of my old life. I saw his old flannel shirt and put it on, then went to the living room.

He had lit a fire. Four candles illuminated the table, two colorful plates of salad waiting. He was standing behind one chair and motioned me to sit down. We had not spoken. I picked up the fork, but all appetite was gone, the butterflies back in my stomach. By the time I had chewed and swallowed the first mouthful, he had finished half of his plate. I tried to speed up but it was like eating sawdust.

After a while he asked, "You done with your salad?" I nodded. He took our plates, replaced them with two servings of fresh prawns and vegetables, and poured the wine.

I took the glass, gave him a half-hearted smile and said, "I am now all yours."

"Eat. You will need your strength."

"What do you plan to do with me? Starve me for the next three weeks?"

"No, trying to get some more respect from you."

I was glad he reciprocated my tease. I managed to eat half of my plate then gave up. I sipped on the wine while he was finishing his plate.

"There is ice cream in the freezer."

I declined.

He picked a box from the floor. I had not seen it before but immediately knew what it contained. "So, they did arrive."

He nodded then emptied the contents on the table. "Are you ready?"

I almost did not hear the question. My eyes were glued to the four shiny metal bands and the chain which were lying on the table, the light from the fire playing with them, thin, innocent, yet so powerful.  

He looked at me. I swallowed; my throat all at once very dry. I knew I could no longer retract. It was not the signature on the papers. All at once, his presence and the sweet desire to submit to him had become stronger than any objection to what he was about to do. My "Yes" was no more than a breath.

He ordered me to the center of the room and undress.

I obeyed. As I slipped out of the shirt, I felt like weights were being lifted off my shoulders.

"Kneel."

He held the first cuff out. I lifted my right arm against all senses who told me not to do so. The metal was coated on the inside with durable foam lining which allowed almost indefinite wear. It fitted perfectly around my wrist. The foam lining was warm. I felt his hands as he aligned the two halves for the metal teeth to slide into the opposite groves. As the teeth moved in, they got squeezed together and once completely inside locked into place as they snapped back into their original position. As I heard the clicks, my body shook with fear and an orgasm coming so strong I could hardly contain it.

I looked at the cuff, the groves had disappeared, sealing on like one unbroken metal band. There was a strange pattern edged into the metal, making them appear as unusual bracelets, rather than restraints. The cuff was tight and had a slight indentation to mold onto the wrist bones. He checked the fit by trying to turn it. My wrist turned along. I involuntarily cried out. There was absolutely no slack.

The one around my left wrist followed. By now, the blood was pounding in my ears. I felt the heat of the fire on my body, my vision narrowing in on just my limbs. Nothing else existed.

The collar was next. The chain links were dense and twisted to make it look and feel sleek. He put it around my neck, it was pressing onto my voice box. I swallowed. He inserted the half of the ring which was suppose to close it, matched it with the other half and squeezed the ring shut. The clicks again. The pressure on my voice box was released as the chain settled snuggly around my neck. He pulled on the ring to check that it was completely sealed shut.

"Stand up."

Close to fainting, I obeyed. He hunched down in front of me, his whole being forbidding any thought of vulnerability. His hand went down on the inner side of my left leg. He felt the tremor. As he reached out for the first ankle cuff, he looked up. All at once, his face appeared hard and foreign, fear was building up like a lightening stroke. I wanted to run away. He saw it. His eyes narrowed. I tried to relax gazing down into his dark eyes. It seemed like an eternity 'til he lowered his eyes and closed the first ankle cuff. I was relieved when he finished with the second one and stood up.

I looked at the four metal bands which were now permanently sealed onto my limbs. They were no thicker than 3 mm, but absolutely hard. Each of them had four points of attachments, essentially cut-outs in the metal where the metal narrowed and lifted above it surface, wide enough to take a padlock. My breathing became shallower. I realized that my body was covered with sweat.

He took my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Peanut, you have yet to learn a lot. These ties have an even stronger obligation for me than they have for you. Do you understand that?"

The blood was rising in my cheeks, tears stinging in my eyes. I nodded, wished him to take me in his arms. But his eyes were hard and unforgiving.

He was right. He had taken the full responsibility for both of us. While I was absolutely under his control, he could kill, permanently hurt or drive me insane. Every move was his to decide, him to read me even when he shut me out of any communication. Was I ready to trust him that he would make the right decisions? Was I ready to trust him for his motives or was he somebody else than I thought he would be?

Adrenaline was pumping through me. I knew it was the trust that was lacking and the exact reason to go down into this abyss. I almost screamed over the contradiction. He sensed that I was not ready; probably saw the panic in my eyes.

"Turn around and put your arms behind your back."

A simple command he had used on me for so many times, it still sent shivers down my spine. A switch was turned. While the trust was lacking, I was able to obey, and as he connected my wrists with a padlock, I let him take control.

I was now facing the table and saw the remnants of our dinner. I wondered whether I would ever eat dinner with him in the same manner. I saw that I had not finished my wine. Why was I doing this?

The blindfold came down shutting out all further thoughts. He pulled it very tight. It was padded and I knew it eliminated light even in the brightest daylight.   The ear plugs were next, then the inflatable gag, then the hood.

Even though he had prepared me somewhat for what was to come, I was scared shitless as I was completely shut off from the outside world. He would be the one to decide when I would get my senses back.

He took me outside to the car. It was cold and I shivered. He connected a lead to the ring in the collar and pulled it to the front. A few seconds later, I felt a pull forward and downward. He helped me to get into a cage in the back of the car. It was very small, but between the tug of the leash and tiny shuffles I was able to slowly get inside.

When my head was hitting the front wall, I felt the collar stopping at a ring on the floor. It forced me to hunch down, pressing my breasts onto my thighs. The chain pulling on the collar went through the ring, then between my legs to the back. He pushed my ankles together and fastened them and the end of the chain to a second ring in the back of the cage.

He had some mercy. I felt him rubbing an object against my vagina then he pushed it inside. He turned the vibrator on a very low setting and secured it with a rope around my waist and pubic zone. He tied me further down with a rope leading from the wrists to the ring in the back. As he pulled it down tight, the rope slipped between my buttocks, I groaned.  

Locking padlocks directly onto these cuffs, gave almost no room for them to move. I could bend my wrists and ankles in one direction, using the padlocks like hinges. Nothing more. As a result, I was absolutely immobilized, no sight, no sound, just the humming of the vibrator. I knew it would drive me crazy within the hours to come, but surprisingly it helped me to calm down. The decision had been made; there was only one way to go now. Forward.

The door of the cage was pushed against my toes and closed. As the back door of the car followed, the chill of the night disappeared.

To be continued

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