The Exhibit: Love, Bondage and Control

James Davenport

"You're far too kind, Riley, you'd better reserve judgment until after you eat it...if you survive!" James cackled melodramatically. He had been smiling as he talked, and his smile grew larger as he turned to see her approach. "You look much better, Riley." His eyes trailed over her figure, the colors complimenting her. She knew how to dress, that was for sure. Which was why he was just a simple photographer and she drew all the attention at parties. "You look much better."

He returned her hug, letting out a properly appreciating 'mmm' at her kiss. His arms moved tighter, pulling her against him, enjoying the feel of her soft curves, one set of which seemed just a bit curvier. Although that was likely his imagination, no doubt. Not that he found any reason to dislike his Riley as she was now.

"Shopping with my mother?" James let out a low whistle. "You definitely have gotten brave over the past few days, Riley." They kissed softly. Needless to say, James had, like every son, dreaded having to go shopping with his mother when he was younger. The fact that Mother had gone out relatively fewer times than most lower-income mothers, and to more upscale places, had not changed the interminable dullness of the excursions.

"I don't mind shopping with you, Riley. The Met can wait. I'm sure we'll have plenty of better opportunities in the future. But if you want to go with Mother, well," James shrugged. "You're the princess, after all. I'm just the lowly stable boy."

He returned to the sad-looking chicken soup as Riley left. James wasn't quite sure how soup could show emotions, but this one was quite clearly going through a rough patch in its short life. A minute or two later, he heard Riley's shouts, the sounds of her scampering back into the house on her bare feet. James was concerned for a second, until he realized that she was elated, not in any kind of trouble. He had to hold out his arms to catch her to prevent her from plowing into him, she seemed so focused on the magazine in her hands.

"What? What is it?" he asked, then listened to her reply. By the time she finished, James was grinning from ear to ear, a slight flush working up from his neckline.

"This is beyond amazing, Riley!" he said, grabbing her and lifting her into the air for a twirl. "I told you, our fortunes are on the rise! Our baby will never go hungry, that's for sure." He lowered her to the floor.

"Normally, I'd say that we should go celebrate news like this, but we've been celebrating so much recently...And it would be a shame to let such haute cuisine as this go to waste." He gestured at the simmering chicken soup.

Of course, that was only part of the reason he didn't feel like going out. The other was not wanting to put Riley under any further strain. The fourth was that he was, truth to tell, starting to grow a little paranoid. He couldn't help but think that a trip to a restaurant would just result in another visit from Corbin.

Riley beamed in James's arms. "We don't have to go anywhere to celebrate. Besides, I think the soup will be perfect for my touchy stomach." Riley herself dreaded going out, it seemed each time she slipped on a fabulous dress, theri night was ill fated. She didn't want anyone else to be in the world this night, but her and James. She kissed his throat, covering him with kisses. "There are lots of ways to celebrate. I'll put the candlesticks on the table, we could take a blanket out to the yard, snuggle under the stars after dinner." Riley was so proud of him. She was carefull to not mention that Corbin had spoken to the critic. There was no need to bring up that sore subject.

Riley gasped as she remembered the gift that she had purchased him the other night. It was with her school things. She left his arms to dig through her bag. "I bought something for you, a just because... but this is a perfect time." Riley whispered. She found the wrapped picture frame in it's pristine white box and satin ribbon. She tossed her books into a pile. She handed the gift to James.

"I know it is sentimental and you might think it is silly, but my heart was in the right place." She watched breathlessly as he opened it. Even with her missing classes, this day had been so good for them. Her letting him take care of her, the success of his review it all felt right. She knew that other galleries would be calling soon. Perhaps he could do a show of some of his old work that hadn't sold yet. This was just the beginning.

In the cold clear light of morning Abby was not sure what to say to Riley that wouldn’t make her sound like an interfering old busy body. After hours of internal debate she elected to simply ask how the pregnancy was going and see if she could derive from that anything that seemed to be not right.

It was much later in the day when she finally summoned up the will to make the call, just as James was contemplating his review the phone rang and Riley being closest answered it.

Abby was somewhat relieved that James had not picked it up and said “Riley how are you, I was just wondering how you were getting on, and so I got your number from directory assistance, and well here I am.”

“No, no, I just wanted to be sure you were all right, I know fully well what the mood swings are like when you are pregnant, and believe me it’s nothing to be ashamed of, though James may wonder what you are going through.”

Pause as Riley details somewhat, what she is going through, and Abby answered, “yes but if it makes you feel any better, I was much worse, that was my first husband, and he had no clue and frankly no time, so he left the picture soon after my first was born but then I met Dan and well it got much better.”

“Pardon, oh no, Dan and I had two of our own plus my first and they are all one happy family.”

Riley spoke a bit more and Abby asked her, “I was wondering to, if you would be alone, you and James that is, over thanksgiving, because if you were well then you would be more than welcome here, I always try to assemble as many guests as possible, even Corbin.”

“Ahh I see well that is good to, I am sure James’s family is more than happy to see you. Corbin, no he is otherwise engaged, seems that a wealthy customer offered to fete’ him, and he felt duty bound to accept.”

“Yes that’s right, Edwina Hargreaves, very attractive considering her age, who knows maybe she will try and work her wicked way on poor Corbin, though who could blame her. I mean if I was available I would be all over him like white on rice.”

“Oh yes, all the time, but either he doesn’t realize it or just pretends not to notice, so as to keep them at a distance, but he has no lack of female attention I assure you.”

“Anyway I was jut wondering how you were feeling and wanted to chat a bit, so if anything comes up that you don’t understand or doesn’t make sense, or even if you just want to rant at someone I am here for you, give me a call, you don’t have to go through this alone and I want to make sure you don’t.”

“What’s that, oh yes of course here is my number,” and after giving Riley her phone number and her cell number, Abby hung up.

James Davenport

James smiled as Riley agreed with him, glad that it would just be them, tonight, alone in the impenetrable castle of their house. "Chicken soup and candlesticks and you. How much more romantic could it get? And it's been a while since we've stargazed..." James trailed off with a smile as he thought of his courtship of her, the times they had spent almost the entire night under the summer sky, lazily making love whenever the urge struck them. Yes, doing that again would be perfect for them to relive those feelings of budding love and exploration from their first months together. Perfect for getting rid of ugly memories of the recent best left forgotten.

James looked after her quizzically as she jumped from his arms, his brows creasing. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked at first, then listened to what she said. "A gift? For me? Oh, love, you shouldn't have, it's not needed..." His mandatory objections trailed off as Riley returned with the small box in hand, so obviously happy at it. He sat down at the table, taking it in hand, her enthusiasm infectious.

"Riley, believe me, I'd never call your sentimentality silly..." he said, starting to unwrap it. He paused when it became apparent what was inside, then finished, laying it on the table before reading the message inside. "Oh, Riley..." he said after a few seconds, turning to envelop her in a large hug. "It's perfect. It'll be something we'll always treasure." James meant what he said; it was obvious Riley had gotten it as a make-up gift, which made the fact that it connected with him so well that much more precious. He could only imagine the first photograph of their first baby inside it, smiling at it when they were older, using it to embarrass their child by showing it off to all of his or her lovers that were brought home...

James would have continued, but the phone rang then, as if it was cutting into a personal moment, which as a matter of fact, it was. He stood, intending to get it, but Riley was there first. James reluctantly allowed her to do so, then when she didn't return after a few seconds and appeared to be in conversation with someone, stood up again, starting to set the table and ladle out dinner, wondering who it could be.

Riley was touched by Abby's concern, but she was also a mite suspicious. Had her behavior been so out of bounds the other night that Abby felt the need to check on her. Or perhaps was Corbin checking on her through his friend? The invitation had seemed well intentioned and sincere, but Riley was glad she had been able to refuse it. She took Abby's number. It might come in handy if she needed help with her sisters so far away.

As she hung up the phone she couldn't help but think of Corbin with Edwina, the woman was a harpy and too old for Corbin. She shook her head wondering why someone as real as Corbin chose to live in a world of trappings rather than substance. She couldn't think about that. Corbin's love affairs weren't any of her business. He had slept with Bonnie and now perhaps, Edwina. She hoped that he would find a woman more suited to him, one with a soul. With a shrug of her shoulders she returned to James.

"It was Corbin's friend, Abby. She just wanted to see how I was doing and making sure we had a place to go for THanksgiving. I thanked her, but told her we are going to your parents." Riley breathed deeply hoping this wouldn't restart their conflict about Corbin and his trip. She looked up to James with adoring eyes. "Thank you for cooking dinner, my love."

Her heart pounded. Please, she begged in her mind, Please don't let this night shatter.

James Davenport

James looked up from his preparations as Riley re-entered the dining room, telling him who it had been and why she had called. James began to frown, just for the tiniest bit of a second, before Riley suddenly exclaimed how wonderful everything was, her eyes wide and staring directly at his own. His frown pre-emptively faltered, her emotions as readable as if they were radiating from her into his own brain. She didn't want this to be ruined by the news that Corbin was snooping on her. And, truth be told, neither did James. The fact that Corbin had finally gone one step over the line was one thing, and James would make sure to speak to the man about his pestering Riley soon. But she was clearly the innocent here, and they had just gotten over one major argument...and so James' smile was back in full force, moving over to hug Riley.

"Ah, it's nothing, Riley. The least I could do. I'd say that it's a thank-you for all the times you've cooked for me, but after you've tasted it, that might convey the wrong message." He pulled out the chair for her, seeing her seated before heading off to the fireplace. Fetching a book of matches he returned, lit the candles, dimmed the lights, and took his seat across from her, admiring for a few moments how the candlelight reflected off her bright eyes and pale skin, before starting to eat himself. It wasn't half bad, he had to admit, and it had been a while since he had eaten himself, so gratefully, James began to dig in. Perhaps all the time spent around Riley had transmitted some of her skill in the kitchen to him. Probably via osmosis all the times they made love, no doubt. There were far worse ways to learn.

As they eat, James said, "I have the perfect spot picked out for us, right by the garden. Perfect view of the sky. Clear skies, the Leonids should be pretty strong tonight. Might be a bit chilly, so I vote we take a thermos of hot chocolate with us. And, of course, I have the perfect blanket picked out." That being the same blanket they had used the first time they had slept under the stars together, as well as most subsequent times. A bit ratty, but it still provided ample warmth and cushioning, and there was no way he would throw that out. In fact, James thought it as good a place as any for them to eventually conceive their second child.

As they continued to eat, James spoke, somewhat softer, deliberately unconcerned, "You know, we don't have to go up to my place for Thanksgiving. If you want us to spend it down here with your friends, that would be fine with me."

Riley looked at James, a soft smile spreading on her lips. "My love, I have plans for Thanksgiving. I want to see the elder Davenport's faces when they hear they are going to be grandparents again." Riley didn't elaborate. She wanted him to know that it was the truth. She ate some more of her soup.

"As for the star gazing, I have missed that. Do you remember the first time we made love under the stars... I was nervous that we might be caught. I had never had sex outdoors. But I am not nervous now. Before I know it you will be taking pictures of me tied to one of our trees." Her voice was light, but flirtatious. Nothing was going to spoil this night.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while. The food felt good in Riley's stomach, which was a relief. "I was thinking about the photographs that you took last night. The one where my eyes look so frightened. I haven't grasped it yet, but I was thinking of a word play. Something to do with-- beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Except, I don't know. Beauty in the Eyes of the Captive or the Held. Or Beauty in the Eyes of the Holder. I am not sure where I am going. I was just playing with the words in my mind today in bed." Riley looked down a little embarassed, not of that had come out as she had planned. But she wanted James to know that she was thinking about his art, that her thoughts were with him.

She laid down her spoon. It seemed that it didn't take much to sate her these days. She smirked as she thought that it was only her appetite for food that was diminished. She sipped her water for a moment, suddenly worried that perhaps James would take her input on the title of the thread as some sort of intrusion.

James Davenport

James smiled as Riley talked, her words charming him, making him feel warm with something other than the soup. For all he loved her, knew she was the only one for him, she kept surprising him by making him realize there were ways he could love her more and more.

"Thank you," he said softly. "It means a lot to me. And about the tree...you should be careful what you say, darling. You might just give this lecherous filth-peddler ideas for his next porn rag." He smiled as he continued to eat the soup. Tied to a tree. Hmm...definite promise there. His mind went back to his youths, the cartoons where the heroine was always tied by the villainous mastermind. How obvious the message was in retrospect. There was certainly an idea for a photoshoot there somewhere. And trees...James had an image of Riley, her stomach and breasts bulging with pregnancy, naked in the woods, flowers and leaves and sticks woven into her hair, her skin smeared with dirt and chlorophyll-green, not diminishing the beauty but rather bringing it out, transforming her fertility into a true Earth Mother. Yes, that also had promise.

But not for tonight, any of those ideas. Too much work required to set them up, for one. And he just wanted to enjoy the night with Riley, for a much larger two. Of course, if she should want something to happen tonight, who was he to argue...but that, also, was a bridge further upriver.

James was snapped from his reverie by her words, as Riley explained her ideas in a charmingly halting way, before averting her eyes again, as if she had just confessed a terrible sin. In James' mind, nothing could be further from the truth. He had thought that she had been viewing that picture with particular interest, and he had been afraid that she had been...scared, or disgusted, or some other similar view. But quite the opposite, which allowed James to relax and stop feeling so guilty for being similarly enamored of it. The thought of Riley contemplating the capture of her own fear of submission, embracing it, enjoying it...

James leaned across the table, carefully avoiding the candle, taking her chin in hand and tilting it up so she had to look into his eyes. "Beauty in the Eyes of the Holder. I think it's a perfect title." He looked down at her bowl. "Are you done?" he asked, both concerned and happy to be able to move outside. He stood. "I'll get the water boiling for the cocoa, and clean the dishes while that's going. You don't worry about anything, love."

Soon, that was done, and he filled the thermos with rich dark cocoa. No cups; they would just have to share the cap. Blanket fetched from his room, Riley holding his hand, James led the way outside, to the perfect spot for gazing at the stars...among other romantic activities.

Riley let James lead her out into the cool Novemeber air. The stars gleamed in the heavens and the breeze rustled through the crinkling leaves above them. The sound of the leaves made Riley think of home for a moment. She nestled against James as they settled into their spot. James wrapped his arm around her.

They laid back and looked up into the night sky. Riley found Orion. James began showing her the constellations, he knew them well. "I was thinking James, that we should name her Katherine- is she is a she." She said absently. It felt good to be in his arms again. Her hair was spilled across the blanket, shiny and dark. "I think your family might like a traditional name."

Her thoughts were scattered as she watched the stars. This physical act was one that was tied to hundreds of happy memories. James had brought her out to the gardens so many times. Even when he had taken her home to meet his family for the first time, he had snuck a blanket and a bottle of wine outside. They had made love under the summer night sky. It had started pouring and they were soaked to the bone before they made it back to the house, but it hadn't mattered. Riley had giggled like a child. Then they had sunk into the deep, soft mattress in James's childhood room. Riley's luggage had been placed in a room down the hall, but it hadn't mattered. James was not going to be denied the touch of his love.

Riley couldn't help but think of those times. Those times were who they really were, weren't they? They were lovers and dreamers, an artist and a scholar. They weren't jealous and possesive, they weren't selfish and needy. Riley assured herself as she reclined in her husband's arms that they could choose to be who they really were. They could choose love and peace over all else.

James Davenport

James enjoyed the feeling of Riley cuddling against him, the same comforting blanket under their back, nothing but beautiful creation above them. James took his time, pointing out all the stars and constellations, with Mars and Saturn making an appearance as well. The Leonids were not as strong as he had hoped, it not being their peak yet, but even a few shooting stars made their presence known, as if heralding the arrival of the larger swarm in a few weeks. When he had been sick once as a child, his father had given him his old astronomy book from his own childhood. James had taken to it with vigor and for the next year or so had wanted to become either an astronomer or astronaut. The desire had faded, especially after a heart condition that would have disqualified him from astronaut training made itself known, but James had retained much of the information from the brief, intense period of exploration. He still wondered what it would be like to photograph Earth from the surface of the Moon. With private aerospace technology developing like it was, perhaps the child that even now was growing under his palm would find out.

Riley spoke, bringing his mind back from outer space and to the warm mass huddled beside him. He thought it through.

"Katherine is certainly a traditional name, and one it would please them to have. Did I tell you my grandmother, my mother's mother that is, was named Katherine? Well, Ekaterine - close enough. Katherine...Hmm...Katherine Mary Davenport?" he suggested, only half joking, hoping Riley would like the gesture.

"I like it, but I don't want you to pick one just on the basis of what you think my parents would like. And I still like Robert James Davenport if it's a he."

He continued to hold Riley in his arms, constantly stroking her and occasionally pointing out some new star or planet that the rotation of the Earth would bring above the horizon. Finally, as Saturn set and the night grew even darker, James felt Riley shivering beside him. Leaning in, his kissed her neck.

"You seem cold. Should we go inside? I know a way that's guaranteed to warm you up and let you see stars. If I do say so myself."

Riley melted into the blanket. "We can go indoors, or you can have your way with me out here. I am completley yours, James." Riley reached down and pulled up the black turtleneck, exposing her pale skin to the night air. She slithered out of the top, exposing her delicate peach colored bra. Her nipples perked almost instantly in the chill. Her dark eyes sought James. A slow smile spread across her soft mouth as she watched the fire of his hunger stoked.

His warm hands covered her skin, his body rolling on top of hers. She slid her hands down between them, touching him through his clothes. She could feel him harden against her as she rubbed her body to his.

"This is what I have wanted. This is what I need." She whispered against his throat. She could taste him, smell him. This was the intimacy of their marriage, that she knew his taste and touch. That she knew how he liked to be touched and what visual stimulated him. This night under the stars was taking them back to their earliest love making sessions.

He had had the house even then. She had felt rather scandalous coming to his house. But James, however passionate, had been gentle and patient with his young love. He had taught her how she liked to be touched, taught her how responsive her body could be.

"You don't have your camera. Did you want to take some pictures tonight?" Riley asked. It wasn't that she desperately wanted to have her picture taken, but this night had been magic. She wanted to squease every drop of perfection out of this night that she could. If tonight was perfect and if things tomorrow went well between them, then perhaps, they would be back where they were. If more photographs were a catalyst for that, then so be it.

James Davenport

James watched, as spellbound as he always was when his wife was doing something naughty, as she spoke dirty, stripping her top off, her breasts filling her bra, nipples already hard. She laid back down and before he could stop himself he was on top of her - only to keep her warm, of course - hands and mouths exploring each other as she whispered dirty, loving things against him, purring against his throat as she reacted to his touch, him growing hard in response to hers.

Her question caught him off guard and he pulled back, looking at her for a second. "Photographs, now? Are you sure? I don't want to, hmm...keep you distracted from anything you needed doing," he added, jokingly. Pictures or not, she was not going anywhere else tonight, and they both knew it. Nevertheless, he didn't want her to ruin her night by forcing herself into another set just to please him.

However, Riley quickly assured him that it was no problem, and James would be lying if he said he wasn't happy. "If you insist..." he said, happily smiling, and considering for a moment what to do in the night, and her previous words. Ah, perfect. "I have just the idea," he said, lowering to kiss her. "Wait here while I get the camera and my...assorted other props." He moved to stand, pausing again. "By the way, if anything gets out of hand tonight...Just say 'red,' all right?" Before she could answer he was gone.

He hurried into the lab first, getting a loaded camera with a good enough flash for the nighttime work, and then a remote he had had installed to the house's outdoor lighting for just such works. He didn't know if he would need the floodlights tonight, but better to have it on hand then not. A brief visit to the bedroom for the 'props' bag, and then back outside.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he said, lying down next to her and taking her into his arms for a long kiss. It broke as he started to gently undress her, not accepting any help, his work pausing for a number of kisses and licks to newly-freed skin, the warm moisture of the kisses leaving goosebumps behind. A final, lingering kiss between her legs and he tugged her panties down, and she was naked in the night. James smiled hungrily at her.

"You look beautiful, Riley. And pregnancy makes you taste better than ever." He licked his lips for emphasis, before reaching into the bag for the collar that he handed to her. "You know the drill, riley," he said, watching her with increasing heat as she locked it on. "And remember what I said earlier. I'll be right back."

A heavy wind had been through the area the day before, and James hadn't gotten around to picking up the branches yet. Fortunately, as it now seemed. He selected a small, straight branch, little more than an overgrown twig, and still green enough inside to give it a measure of flexibility. He returned to where riley was sitting and, before her, made a show of stripping it of leaves and offshoots before testing flicking it in his wrist. Only then did he look at her and speak.

"What do you think this is for, riley?" he asked innocently.

Riley was cold, but somehow the sensation of it, the chill, made everything more intense. She propped up on her elbows. "I know a switch when I see one." She said biting her lip. She felt a quiver in her tummy, a wicked anticipation. She felt a heat rise from her belly up into her skin. Her cheeks flushing.

"Where do you want me, Sir?" She asked. It seemed to fit with him flicking the switch in his hands. She revelled under his gaze, it made her feel desirable, it made her feel as if the bonds of their love were solid. Riley tossed her hair back, spilling it across the blanket. She was cold, her impulse was to cover her breasts with her arms, but she would not. She draped herself across the blanket, posing elegantly.

She took her fingertips and brushed them down her throat, and then over her breasts. Her elegant fingers lingered on her breasts, brushing across the undersides, teasing the sensitve flesh. Then she took her nipples in her fingertips, teasing and toying. Then tugging. "Do you like watching me touch myself, Sir?" Her voice was light, breathy, a gasp interuppting her words as she tugged on her breasts harder.

She moaned softly in the moonlight. Arousal coursed through her, she felt her own slickness growing. She drew up her legs and parted them as she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. "I figured if you were stripping a switch for me that I should be naughty enough to deserve it."

James Davenport

James' cock twitched in his pants, going from wakened to full-on hard as soon as riley called him 'Sir.' It was taking it just one step further, one more ratcheting up of the game they played on top of him introducing two new elements already this night, the safe word and, through the switch, a reason she might use it. He had worried about taking it too far, that perhaps this went beyond whatever fantasies played in her head when she submitted herself to her husband. But no. James had been wrong in his assessment of his wife, and for once was glad. The way she was writhing, the way she played with herself and throatily groaned and even the dull light glistened between her legs...riley was horny as hell. James just had to take a picture of the sight, several actually, before replying.

"You know I like watching you play with yourself, slave riley. Except that you know it is not your body anymore, it is mine. But in just this case, I do not mind someone else handling my possessions." He trailed the end of the switch up and down her body, circling each nipple. "You playing with yourself made me so happy that I decided to go easy on you, slave riley." Speaking like this to his Riley - no, she was not Riley like this, she was slave riley...that was almost as arousing as seeing her display herself like this.

"Then you made your mistake." James trailed the switch down, around the bud of her clit, before delivering a light warning swat to her inner thigh. "Two, actually. One. You made the mistake of thinking that you had to do something to warrant a punishment. Like any of my possessions, slave riley, I may do anything with you for any reason at any time. Two. You made the mistake of thinking this is a punishment. Other than your two mistakes, you have been wonderful. This is just play."

James licked his lips again, heart throbbing as he returned the switch to between her legs, toying with her clit. "Nevertheless, those mistakes were made, and you must be taught a lesson. Tits, pussy, ass. I was going to deliver five swats to one of those areas. Now, I will have to do so to all three."

James pulled the switch back, bringing the tip up to his nose, sniffing the essence of slave riley's wetness that was on the tip. "I am not cruel, however, slave riley. I will give you one reprieve." He smiled sweetly. "I will let you decide in which order your three areas receive their whipping."

Riley arched up off of the blanket. Tipping her head back and offering him her breasts. "My breasts first, my ass and then my pussy." She whispered.The d ring of the collar gleamed in the low light. She planted her hands behind her and arched her back offering the peaks of her breasts to the heavens.

She made the most delicious cries as he brought the switch down in neat, swift strikes. The gasps grew into sharp cries. The marks were perfect lines. She blinked between the flashes. Her skin marked by his discipline. He looked as if he was listening for the word "red" but she did not say it.

He took several pictures and whispered for her to turn her head or to tilt her body. She looked up at him with wide doe eyes.
"Sir, I am not sure I can stay quiet. And I know you don't want anyone to hear me." She thought her heart was going to break through her chest, it was pounding so hard. Her hands trembled as she waited for his response.

James Davenport

James nodded as slave riley spoke. "A fine selection," he managed to say, his voice dry and throat constricted as he watched slave riley position herself for maximum exposure. James gulped, for all he'd been through and all he'd been planning, still not sure if he was ready for this. If he could actually inflict pain on Riley. But he wasn't inflicting pain on Riley, he was doing it to slave riley. And it wasn't as if he was beating her; it was almost clinical what he was doing, detached, done for the mutual pleasure, with a safe-word and in the open and everything.

Then, another shooting star went by overhead, and it was if it had turned the switch in his mind. James knew he was going to do it, slave riley knew he was going to do it; it was consensual; why not embrace it fully? His voice more steady, he spoke again. "'My breasts first, my ass and then my pussy, Sir.' Your forgetfulness has earned you an extra stroke in each position. Now...don't let the neighbors get worried."

The first swish came down right after he finished talking, with no warning. Each stroke was followed by James taking a picture. Not only did it allow him to fully savor slave riley's reaction to the pain, it allowed him to create a montage, a linear exhibit of her 'punishment.' Plus, it of course allowed him to listen for the safe word without being distracted. None came, and James was proud beyond words. The final stroke came down perfectly aligned to strike both of her nipples, and her gasps became a short yelp that almost made him come then and there. Then it was over - at least, the first third - and she was sweaty and afraid and worried over keeping her quiet with her huge, loving eyes.

James leaned down, pulling her in for a tender, loving kiss, his hands stroking her hair. "You've done so good, slave riley. I'm so proud of you. You sound so lovely when you receive your punishment. And you look good in stripes. As for your keeping quiet..."

He rifled through the props bag, deciding between the ring and the ball, settling on the latter. The issue, after all, was not availability but silence. Pulling out the large red ballgag, James offered it to his submissive. "Put it on," he quietly ordered, watching and taking a picture or two as she filled her mouth with its huge size, obviously having trouble adapting to it properly. Smiling again, James leaned in, kissing each cheek. "If it gets too bad," he whispered, "pound your fist on the ground three times in a row. I love you."

Then, quickly, as if not wanting to ruin the atmosphere, James pulled back, tapping the switch against his palm, as if impatient. "Now, slave riley...bottoms up." He chuckled at his horrible pun.

Riley struggled with the gag. It took a moment to fit it in her pretty mouth. and she fastened the buckle underneath her hair. James gave her instructions for how to signal him if it was too much, her voice was gone. That was an exhilarating thought. She had no voice. SHe was going to have to trust James and she did. SHe knelt before him as she had on the bed, this time though it was just on the blanket. She stretched her hands out before her, and offered her ass up to James.

She could hear the leaves rustle in the trees and even felt a few fall upon her bare skin. The night was getting colder, but the cold only added to her arousal. She waited for the strokes to come. And they did. Slow and deliberate and intense. the flash punctuating each one. The sting spread. She felt a few tears streak down her cheek.

Then James had her flip over with her legs spread wide. He pushed them further apart with his feet. Taking pictures of his wife, spread and collared and gagged. HIS. That was the word that resonated with her at this moment. She was starting to shiver. The cold made her nipples like little pebbles.

The switch on her pussy was like nothing she had ever experienced. She writhed and whimpered as James found his mark. SHe closed her eyes, a few more tears coming. She was so aroused her thighs were wet and the blankets beneath her were wet as well.

James Davenport

James paced up and down as slave riley repositioned herself properly, offering her ass to her Master. He took a few pictures, leaned down to rub her here and there, before resuming his position at her rear. This time, he counted off each stroke as he took the picture, letting her mentally run through how much longer she had to go before the pain would be through. But did she really want that? Riley no doubt would, but slave riley seemed to enjoy receiving the pain almost as much as James enjoyed giving it out, judging by her wet sex. Good. She'd be getting a lot more of it, if not tonight, then some other day. Their relationship was only beginning.

When the six strokes were done, James leaned down to caress her striped ass, feeling the heat from it rise into his palm, her whimper through her rubber gag at the pain of him handling it. He had ointment in his bag that he would rub in later, but not until they were finished. He didn't want anything dulling the sensations for her. Until then, only the cold air would help calm her ass.

Turning her over, James was at first surprised at the tears on her face, almost breaking character and calling this whole thing off now. But a second look revealed the smoldering heat inside her deep brown eyes, eyes that had always been expressive and seemed to have become even moreso now that James had removed her ability to speak, taken her one step below a person, one step closer to her primal nature. One further divide between Riley and slave riley. Taking a closeup picture, James merely smiled, making no attempt to wipe her tears away as he forced her feet even wider, taking several pictures of her pussy - Riley had a vulva, slave riley had a pussy - before preparing for the final step.

Once more without any warning, the switch came down, firmer yet with greater time in between, allowing him to savor the sight of her squirming, the muffled moans from her blocked throat. The first strike hit her left outer lips, the second the right. The third and forth strikes repeated the pattern. The fifth struck the bottom, right above her perineum. The sixth, the grand finale, James saved for her clitoris, and he spent another few seconds savoring her bucking and crying. Several more photographs of the finished product, and James finally kneeled beside her, taking slave riley into his arms.

"Shhh..." he urged her, resting her head against his shoulder. "You were so good, slave riley. I was so happy how well you took your punishment. I have some balm we can rub in later...once we're finished here. You took it so well for your Master. You made your Master so happy. Feel how happy I am." He took her hand, bringing it to rest against his pants' crotch, feeling his large erection beneath.

James then cradled her face in his palms, kissing her tears away before smiling into her eyes. "Poor slave riley. Not even being able to speak. It must be so hard for you. You are always so talkative, so expressive. Now that is all stripped from you. But it fits your animalistic, passionate nature, my little sex kitten. Animals can express themselves in many ways, but speech alone is reserved for people. And a possession, my little sex slave, is not a person, is it? Are you?"

Hearing these words come from his mouth frightened even James, envisioning slave riley forever barred from speaking, a gag constantly in his wife's mouth. But the pleasure at such a mental vision overrode even that uncertainty. After all, it wasn't like this was real, was it?

"Now...that doesn't mean I don't miss that dirty little voice of yours, slave riley," he said, more to himself than her. "So I will ungag you. First, you will kiss the instrument of your punishment." He gestured to the switch that lay on the blanket in the middle of her puddle of cum. "Then, you will thank me for punishing you. You are glad I punished you, aren't you?"

Riley shivered as James kissed the tears off of her face. His voice was so different, she was excited, but a small part of her was scared. His fingers had the gag off in a moment. She stretched her jaw as the ball came from behind her teeth. The tip of her tongue wet her lips. Then with her eyes on James, she followed his instruction.

She knelt down kissing the switch. Her pretty lips and nose in the puddle of her own cum. Her ass high in the air. She kissed the length of the switch, first up, then down. Repeating. Then she closed her eyes and ran her tongue down the length of it. She almost looked as if she were sucking a cock, rather than toying with a switch. Then she knelt up, pretty and seductive. It was only then that James could see her shivering.

She leant forward, reaching for his erection again. Opening his pants out in the garden, she buried her face against the crotch of his pants as she opened them. Her cold fingers found his hard cock and pulled it out. "THank you for punishing me, Sir. Thank you, Master." She whispered, the cold evident in her voice. But she made no move to be released from her servitude. SHe just took the head of his cock into her mouth.

Her tongue teased him, slowly swirling around the head of his cock. Her breasts pressed against the legs of his pants. Her hands stroking the base of his sex. She lavished his cock with her adoration. Her silky hair falling around her like a veil. She looked up at him with her mouth full.

She felt his fingers hook in her collar. She gasped as it bit into her throat just a little. A tiny whimper coming from deep within her. That scared her. More than the switch or the gag, or James's cold voice. The small loss of air terrified her. But she didn't use the release word. She so wanted to please him. She wanted these pictures to be just what he wanted. She wanted to be his darling, his dove, and his Erato, and it appeared she wanted to be slave riley as well.

James Davenport

James shuddered as he watched slave riley work her mouth, the huge red ball popping free of her only with difficulty. Her tiny pink tongue darting over her lips, huge eyes, dark and wet with fright and arousal, locked on his own. She kissed the switch - no, she licked and nibbled and made love with the sticky branch. If he hadn't already decided to, that alone would have made James decide to keep the switch as a keepsake. In a day or two it would dry out, be unusable brittle and stiff, but he would always keep it as a token of the first time he had dominated his wife.

slave riley was kneeling before him, her fingers cold and body trembling, but James took little notice. She would survive. It would only be a little while longer. She had already been out for so long. She had a safe word to use if things went on too long. Plenty of excuses and justifications for him to continue to enjoy his wife's submissiveness.

James' eyes closed as he felt slave riley give her singular attention to his penis. It wasn't that Riley was bad at this; on the contrary, she was just as good as slave riley. But the mere fact that it was slave riley's mouth working on him was enough to push James that much further. Usually, he only put his hands into her hair to guide her; what else was there? But now...

James had one hand take hold of her hair like a reign, while the other grabbed her collar, working in tandem to force himself deeper down her throat. Her moans and gagging noise thrilled and terrified him, as well as stimulating his penis, but she still did not use the safe word, and truth to be told, he was so excited he hardly noticed. The sensations, the power, the control...He closed his eyes as he came into her mouth, imagining himself as some sort of dictator or sultan, his harem slave-wife serving her king-husband, utterly his, to do with as he pleased...

When the orgasm had washed away, James looked down. His semen had been too much for her, and she looked up at him with wide, teary eyes, a trail of cum down her chin. James smiled weakly as he put himself away, before fetching the camera. So close now, and he could be done. He took a picture of slave riley like that, before having her scoop it up into her mouth and clean her fingers, like a cat would do, him taking pictures all throughout. Finally, he set the camera down, weary like he was suddenly very tired. Wordlessly, he reached over, unhooking the collar, wincing at the red mark around her neck from when he had been tugging it. With that single act, slave riley had once more become Riley, her Master reverting into her husband.

"Oh, Riley...I'm so sorry," he said, taking her into his arms, suddenly aware of how cold she was. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her red 'collar,' as he wrapped her in the blanket. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I'm so sorry. I'm just not used to that, the equipment. It won't happen again, I promise. Here, just a second..."

He set her down, quickly packing up the camera and props - as well as, carefully, the switch - into the bag, slinging it over his shoulders. Then, wrapping her in the blanket, James hefted her into his arms, carrying her inside and to their room, all the while repeating how sorry he was, and how proud he was of her. Inside the room, he laid her down for a second, before running the tap for the bath. He hadn't planned on this, but she was so cold...

Once more carrying her, James placed Riley into the warm water, rolling up his sleeves as he slowly, worshipfully washed her hair and body, urging her to relax whenever she tried to help or move, telling her that she was his princess, that he wanted to make up how he had acted to her earlier. If they had been master and slave before, now they were princess and servant. When at last James was satisfied that she was warm and clean, with her luxuriant black mane glossy and straight, James helped her out of the tub, drying her off, wincing some more at her soft whimpers whenever the towel touched her ass or breasts.

Shamefully taking her hand, he guided her over to the bed, having her lie down, tummy-down. Picking up the ointment, he began to dab it on her bottom first, carefully rubbing the cooling balm on. Finally he spoke up, his voice soft and awkward and shy.

"I'm really sorry about that, Riley. It looks so...painful. God, I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do this to you again. You know I love you so much, don't you?"

Riley had brought James to climax with her mouth many times, but for them, oral sex was usually foreplay. James would tell her as good as her mouth felt, it felt better to be inside of her. This time she was sure she was going to choke. Between James tugging her hair and the pulled collar pressing into her throat, not to mention James's hard cock pushed into her throat, she had gagged several times- hard. None of that slowed James down, it was as if there was no thought but his very arousal.

His semen had flooded her mouth, she couldn't get it down as she struggled for air. And then she could feel it drip everywhere. On her chin, her breasts, even in her hair. She lowered her eyes as James photographed her that way. Then he had her lick it off of her fingers. She could feel herself trembling. It was hard to keep still. The November night was only getting colder as she knelt beneath the stars.

Then James was done. Then her favorite part came. Each time they played these games, which did arouse her a great deal, when James was done he would lavish her with praise and attention. She was physically relieved when the blanket wrapped around her. James's arms only made it better. She closed her eyes as he carried her up the stairs. She wanted to tell him it was okay, but she was shivering too much to tell him anything. She rested on the bed as he ran the taps for her bath.

Warm water on her cold skin was like heaven. She could feel herself getting warmer. A few times she tried to help James but sweetly and firmly, he told her no. She felt like his pampered, darling girl. Then he toweled her off gently and laid her on the bed. Her backside had six distinct stripes across it. She winced as he treated them with his ointment. Then he turned her over and did the same with her breasts. Somehow, that was worse. Her breasts were tender with the pregnancy. She whimpered as he touched them. Her eyes closed tight. A few more tears fell but she swiped them with the back of her hand. She did her very best to be quiet as James tended her.

She melted into the mattress. He pulled the covers over her. She smiled up at him weakly. "I am fine, James. Everything is fine. I knew what to do if I had wanted you to stop." Riley closed her eyes. She was confused and she knew that it wasn't fair to James. She hadn't told him to stop, but surely he had been concerned about her. More than the switch marks, her throat hurt. She could feel the heat from the red marks where he had rubbed against her skin, tugging on the collar. She couldn't have stopped that anyway. Not with him tugging her collar so tightly that her lips were pressed to the base of his cock. There was no way she could have gotten out the word red. But she hadn't tried. And she was so confused.

How can you love something and hate it all at once. She had been frightened and aroused all at once. She had wanted to please James and at the same time silently begged for him to notice that she was cold and hurting. She didn't know what to do with it. Was this the real James or was this just for pictures. And how could he take pictures of her with his seed on her face? IT was all so raw and intimate, a private moment that would never be private again. She turned on her sideand nestled into the bed.

"It is alright. I know you wouldn't hurt me." She whispered. She snuggled under the blankets and closed her eyes. All she wanted now was sleep.

James Davenport

James watched as Riley...not cried, but certainly teared, as he attended to her whipped breasts. Her especially whimpered as he tended to the nipples that were still as swollen and red as the bullseyes he had seen them as during her 'punishment.' Punishment. The word turned to ash in his mouth. What had he meant saying something that stupid? How could he ever punish someone as darling and willing and innocent as Riley? And of course it had been Riley he had beating. Calling her 'slave' or not didn't change it. He cursed his idiotic justification. He must really be a lowlife to have wanted to have done...that.

"It's not all right, Riley," he said as he tucked her in when he had finished soothing her privates, cringing himself just imagining what hitting her clitoris must have been like for her. Each tear she had shed and quickly wiped away while tending to her had been as if she had yelled a scathing indictment of him as a husband and as a man. "You know I don't want to hurt you. I just..."

He stopped, realizing as he stroked her hair that, exhausted as she already had been when they began and with all that he had put her through on top, Riley had already fallen fast asleep. James sighed, not blaming her.

"I'm glad one of us knew I wouldn't hurt you," he whispered into her ear, kissing it before rising to use the bathroom himself. He cleaned off most of their 'props' before taking a shower himself, then made his way down to the photo lab, tossing the blanket and their clothes in the wash on the way. Inside the lab, he started to develop some of the pictures of the night. As he saw Riley place herself in increasing levels of pain and submission, for all his words - honestly felt - to her in the bed, James couldn't deny that his cock was stirring in his pants, and, deep down inside him, he knew he would do it to her again. And again. And again.

Growing tired enough that even he found it hard to continue, James stopped the developing around halfway through. Gingerly picking up the switch, he placed it down on the counter, sniffing it gently, the faint aroma of Riley's arousal still there, as if comforting him that she at least had enjoyed some of it. The lab, his private sanctum, seemed as good a place as any to keep it.

Heading upstairs, he dropped into bed, snuggling against Riley as much as he could without hurting her switch marks. He closed his eyes, and his next thought was that of being woken by the sound of Riley retching in the bathroom. He checked the clock, his gummy eyes and sleep-fogged mind barely able to register surprise at what the time was. But still, he had to show Riley he was there for her.

Groggily getting out of bed, he made his way into the bathroom ruefully noticing the dull marks that were still visible on her ass as she kneeled over the toilet.

"Riley, honey? Is there anything I can do?"

Riley had slept like a rock. Her slumber had been solid and quiet. She awoke to the familiar lightheadedness and her rolling stomach. It wasn't long before she had assumed the position. She wondered how she could throw up so much and eat so little. A tiny worry chewed away at the back of her brain. SHe wondered if something was wrong. She hadn't gained an ounce and was actually thinner.

Then she heard James up. He was offering his assistance but there was little he could do. She tried to think of something he could help with. "I need a lunch to take to school today. If you don't mind..." The thought of food made her wretch again. She had to go to school. SHe had already missed too much class already. She was so behind. It didn't matter that she felt like hell. She had to go.

When she was done, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Then she went to get dressed for the day. She looked in the mirror. There was a red scrape on the front of her neck, from the edge of her collar. Not the collar, she noted, but HER collar. For a moment, she thought her plans to go to class today were thwarted. But she dressed in a crisp white blouse, a pair of slim black pants and she tied a silk scarf around her neck that James's sister Josephine had given her for her birthday. It was a black and white graphic print. Then she wore her hair down, in case there were any marks on the back of her neck.

Downstairs, James had packed her her brown bag lunch. She gathered her books and her purse. She knew she looked tired and pale. She hoped that there wouldn't be a discussion of it. She had to go to school. SHe couldn't play love slave everyday. She had to get back to her goal, get back to the real world. At this moment, her world at home didn't seem real. Had she really been naked and swatted and gagged in own backyard last night, in the freezing cold? Had her husband really stood over her forcing his cock into her throat while he tugged on a collar she was wearing? Real people didn't do this did they?

Riley was overwhelmed. And Riley knew the best thing to do when she was overwhelmed or confused was to put her head down and do what she knew best. ANd she knew how to be a good student.

James Davenport

James nodded as Riley spoke, then, realizing she couldn't hear him, replied verbally.

"Lunch. Sure thing. I'll see what I can whip up."

James left the bathroom just as the sound of Riley being sick again reached his ears. He felt so bad for her. At least he could do this for her, save her some time and worry - more than he could do for her in the bathroom, he was sure, and was glad he wouldn't have to listen to her vomiting her guts out. He was sure it was embarrassing for her to do that with him hovering over her, and knowing that something bad was happening to Riley that he couldn't handle...Well, it wasn't a good feeling.

Of course, you didn't care about that last night, James said to himself, as he worked on making her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, feeling like a father already. But that was different, he retorted to himself. We could have stopped any time we wanted. But neither one of us wanted to, is all. It means nothing. Now he was sounding like a drug addict - or a sex addict - making excuses on why he couldn't give up his fix or compulsion. That made James uncomfortable, and he told himself it was absolutely incompatible with what he was going through now. So he redoubled his attention on making the food for his wife.

Besides the sandwich, he included a bottle of orange juice, a banana and an apple, a cup of yogurt and some minor painkillers/nausea medication, in case she felt queasy or cramped again. James didn't know if she was able to take them while pregnant, but figured she would - then chastised himself for the thought. It was his baby as well. He promised himself he would get to know more about what she was going through, what to expect. He had also packed what seemed like a lot of food for her - but she never ate a lot to begin with, and since she had gotten pregnant, Riley had eaten much less, and combined with her trouble keeping even that down, that was not healthy at all. He was worried about her, and silently vowed that, if she didn't show signs of improving soon, he would insist she visit the obstetrician again.

Riley came down, as prettily dressed as always but still looking pale. James frowned. She didn't look good at all, and he could guess why she wore her hair down when she usually had it in a ponytail. He crossed the room, giving her a hug.

"I'm sorry about last night, honey. I really am." He kissed her cheek, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. "I packed your lunch. I know it seems a lot, but will you please just try to eat it all? I'm worried about you. Both of you." His hand made its way above her womb, stroking her softly through her shirt.

"Now, I hope you do well at school. If you need...anything, I'll be at home half the day, then I'll be out. I have a few errands planned. I'll be sure to have the cell with me." Smiling and giving her a goodbye kiss, James watched her leave, then made a small plate of scrambled eggs for himself.

That done, he finished developing her photographs, taking his time and redoing some of the ones he had done late and tired last night. His going was even slower than usual, marveling at how well she took to the lens and her role as a slave both. James worked with an erection, and wished Riley was here to help him; however, he once more chided him for his selfishness. She had school to go to. He didn't want to keep her from it.

Once the photographs were developed, James showered, then dressed - somewhat respectably for once, with a dark turtleneck, slacks, and leather shoes. Everything one would expect from New England old money. Fetching his keys, James walked out to the car, starting it and heading towards the city. It was rare for him to leave his house without Riley for things other than business or pleasure, and even in the latter and, increasingly, the former Riley usually joined him. This - his errand - was neither. But it was something that was long overdo.

Arriving at Corbin's building, he made his way up to the older man's office. The exquisitely beautiful but rather huffy receptionist kindly asked what he needed.

"I'm here to see Mr. Buchanan. And no, I don't have a reservation," he added, cutting her off.

"Mr. Buchanan is very busy, Mr...?" she inquired with the typical measure of restrained politeness.

"Davenport, James Davenport. I'm a friend of Corbin. And of course I will be willing to wait as long as necessary," he said pleasantly, sitting down on the leather couch and picking up the copy of The Wall Street Journal on the neighboring stand.

Corbin had thrown himself into the curren t project here with a rare zeal, as if he did not want to leave the area. he had even consented to thanksgiving dinner with Edwina Hargreaves, an event she assured him would be well attended so he needn't worry about being alone with her.

The trouble was, once the inspirational stuff was done, there was little for him to do, so he sat in his office, studying various other proposals, and giving his input to all of the offices they originated from. He was seriously considering getting a full time apartment here as he seemed to spend so much time here now.

He was deep in a moody reverie concerning his family when the receptionist called to say there was a Mr. Davenport here to see him. "I will be right out," he answered eagerly.

One of the things that held him here was thinking about Riley, she was very much on his mind of late, and if all he could do was hold court with James her surly and somewhat moody, albiet talented husband, than that would have to do.

He walkded quickly to the reception area and warmly shook James's hand saying, "come along to my inner sanctum, and let le get you something to eat, hold my calls," he called to the receptionist as he led James down the corrider to his office.

He wondered what James would think of his old fashioned small town office from the mine in Kentucky as he led James in and indicated the sofa, when James was seated he sat in the chair opposite and said, with obvious delight, "now James, do tell me, to what do I owe the honour of this most auspicious visit?"