Nine Tenths of the Law ~ For Leo

Tara arched her back as she zipped her favourite little black dress over the most daring underwear she had ever purchased. Her tits were lifted snugly against the deep V neckline of her dress and sheer black stockings encased her slim, pale legs. She pushed her feet into knee high black leather boots and then turned her attention to her make-up, hastily crafting a 'natural but slightly goth' look. She walked around her little victorian terraced house, double checking that everything was clean and tidy. When she was finally satisfied with how both she and her home looked, Tara pulled on a denim jacket, grabbed her handbag and headed for the train station. There was a service that went directly to the airport and she didn't want to miss it.

Today was the day that he was flying in to visit her, the American dominant she had been playing with online for so long. Tara had been calling him 'Sir' for months now, confessing to him all her deepest, darkest desires about submission. She had experimented a lot with her previous dom but it had been more of a bedroom only thing. Tara squirmed inwardly at the thoughts and the fears of what he might do to her. They had agreed a safeword (red) and hard limits such as extreme painplay, bruising or anything that left a mark, scat, pissplay etc. Tara had to be careful about marks because the uniform she wore as a nurse had a low collar and short sleeves. What Tara really craved and her ex had not been that interested in was humiliation and objectification. They had been able to play a lot with that online. She wanted a dom who would treat her like a cherished pet most of the time and admonish/humiliate her occasionally. She had fantasised with him online about really abusive treatment but although it was all kinds of hot online, Tara didn't think she'd ever want to try anything like that in real life. Her transatlantic beau would be staying with her for a week and then providing everything went well, Sir would collar her and Tara would make plans to visit him in the USA. He claimed to be quite experienced and the way he talked about scenes definitely reassured her that he knew his subject.

Tara made her train and fidgeted as it sped her towards her destiny. She felt like she had connected with her new Sir on a deep emotional level, albeit mostly via IM. He was ex-military with his own security firm and she had seen a picture of him in uniform that had made her weak at the knees. She knew he would look equally good in the dark clothes security people wore and the knowledge of what he was capable of physically was incredibly arousing to Tara. Her nipples hardened in their cupless bra and the motion of the train made them vibrate against the fabric of her dress. She could feel herself getting wet but had no panties on. Tara bit her lip and crossed her legs, folding her arms across her erect nipples.

When she finally got to the airport, there was initially some confusion about where the correct terminal was and then she had to hang around for a while as his slightly delayed flight came in to land. Tara had a piece of paper folded away in her purse bearing his surname but she was confident that she wouldn't need it. He had seen plenty of pics of her, in various states of undress.

Tara had made reservations at a nearby restaurant. Despite the fact he would be jetlagged, she was a little skittish about taking him straight home with her and so Sir had suggested they have a meal and get to know each other first. He had mentioned a liking for Japanese food a few times so she had chosen a teppanyaki place that was always filled with Japanese, always a good sign. The last train home didn't leave until after midnight so they would have plenty of time to get cosy.

Tara leaped up as people started filing out through the gate from Sir's flight. Even in heels she wasn't much above five foot and she didn't have the nerve to elbow her way to the front of the throng of other people waiting. She crushed the restaurant's card in her hand absently as she scanned the passengers for a man she felt she knew so well but who remained a stranger to her in other, equally compelling ways.

Martin stretched his legs as far as he could in the coach section of the plane finally making its decent into Heathrow Airport. He was certainly looking forward to stepping foot in London for the first time.

As a former Marine, having served two deployments in Asia and Africa, he'd made stop-overs in Europe before, but not London. Besides, this was a much better reason to visit than a six-month stint in a desert or guarding a base nobody even cared about. This was a perfect little slut he was arriving to see. He adjusted in his seat as he thought about her for the umpteenth time since the flight had begun.

His prior service had been true, but most else had been a lie. He didn't run his own security firm. In fact, he was jobless and would be homeless if not for a couple of friends that had put him up for the last month. They had given him a thirty day deadline, though. Instead of working on frantically searching for another dead-end job, he'd decided to cultivate another option with the British nurse he'd met and been talking to online for all those months. He hadn't worked out all the details, but somehow he had to make this work. He'd sold pretty much everything he owned and spent most of it on the one way ticket, so he was out of options if this failed.

He forced out a yawn to pop his ears and equalize the pressure shift as the craft made its final approach. Half an hour later, and the plane was crawling to a stop at the terminal with the covered bridge extending to allow its human cargo to disembark. He stood up and hunched his six-foot frame below the overhead compartments and reached for his carry-on. His free hand brushed his dark short hair back and then rubbed the stubble on his handsome face. At 180 lbs, he'd never been a huge guy, but long flights always made him feel gangly and cramped.

As always, disembarking was always an exercise in patience. There was always that guy trying to muscle his overtly large carry-on out of the compartment, that lady bending over the seat trying to fix some mundane zipper. But finally he was striding through the gate and scanning for his target.

He was confident he could recognize her, he'd seen enough pictures. But he was slightly worried when he didn't spot her in the crowd. Until he looked to his right, and there she was, ten feet away and trying to peer with her small frame over the crowd towards the gate. He really liked that dress, and he idly wondered if she'd worn his requested undergarments. His green eyes flashed at the thought. She hadn't seen him yet, so he decided to have some fun with her. He waded through the crowd behind and to her left and slipped up against her back. His arms slid around her stomach and he leaned down a bit to bring his lips to her right ear and whisper.

"Hello, pet..."

She froze, her whole body electrified by the unexpected touch. He whispered in her ear before she had time to turn round and suddenly, for a long moment she didn't want to, in case the spark wasn't there and she wasn't attracted to him. Tara lifted her head slowly, her gaze travelling up his tall frame until she could see his face.

It was surreal, looking up at a face that was familiar but also entirely new. She had never seen his features in motion, the sparkle in his green eyes and the slight dimple on one side as he smiled at her, clearly amused by how much he had flustered her. Tara breathed in the masculine scent of him, augmented by his long flight. She gazed at him like a simpleton, utterly lost.

Tara finally pulled herself together and realised that all the other passengers had moved away to collect their baggage. She led the way to the carousel and stood there awkwardly, feeling self conscious. They collected his luggage and seeing the fatigue in his eyes, Tara wasted no time in getting them through customs and into a taxi. When they were finally in the restaurant she chose a quiet table near the back and sat down opposite her new dom, wondering how to open the conversation. They had already made small talk about his flight and now her mind was a complete blank. She leaned forwards in her seat eagerly, unwittingly displaying her tits to him.

"So..." She said, before trailing off into silence, blushing furiously.

This was stupid. She had confessed and played out some of her darkest desires with this man. How was it that she couldn't talk to him in a restaurant like a normal date?

Martin couldn't help but stare down his new sub's dress as she leaned forward excitedly at the restaurant where they were now seated. She wasn't very well-endowed, but they still looked good from his view, and he found himself wanting so badly to strip and use her right there. He forced his eyes to meet hers as he thought about how they had even gotten to that point.

They had left the airport shortly before, after collecting his single piece of luggage, which combined with his carry-on, literally consisted of everything he owned. The cab ride had been uneventful, and he'd decided against teasing her in public yet. Instead, he went through a mental checklist of her biggest kinks and control points in his head, and he used that to occupy his mind even as they made small talk. She'd shared a lot, either directly or indirectly, and he was confident he could successfully use that knowledge against her. She might be afraid of it, but he knew she craved that type of full control.

She had limits, sure. But he planned on pushing those limits to his benefit when the time was right. He would use them to break her, mold her to his will. She was his ticket out, and he planned on riding in every sense of the word.

Now she was sitting across from him at a table with food he was enjoying, and his excitement got the best of him finally. His food was pretty much done by now, so he scooted out of his seat and moved over to her side of the booth, squeezing in next to her. His fingers slowly traveled up her thigh and lifted her dress slightly as he pressed his form against hers.

"So..." He parroted with a smile. "Your Dom has traveled halfway across the world to visit you. I do so hope Japanese restaurants aren't all you had in mind for entertaining him." He grinned teasingly as his fingers traveled up a bit higher and his arm purposefully brushed a protruding nipple.

"I'd hate to think you were stalling now."

His proximity made her breathless. As reckless as it was, Tara knew she was going to take him home and let him use her. She was sinfully wet and aroused and her control was collapsing even before Martin moved close to her and stroked her thigh possessively. If he had ordered her to spread herself naked on the table for him, Tara would have had a very hard time refusing.

"No Sir, I'm not stalling... I'm just still very scared. But you are right, we should get you home to bed, you look exhausted."

Just uttering the word 'sir' in a public place was enough to liquefy Tara into a pool of need. If it was possible, her face flushed an even deeper hue of crimson. With a huge feat of self control, she moved away from him and asked a passing waiter for their bill. She paid for the meal herself, knowing that Martin likely had no British currency yet. Soon they were in another taxi speeding towards the train station and not long after that, they were sat close beside each other on the train journey to her home. She had sensed how much he was holding himself back during the short cab ride so once the train pulled out of the station, she turned to him and moved closer, desperate to taste her first kiss from him. Tara's hard nipples strained towards her new Sir and her soaking wet pussy pulsed wantonly. If he didn't take her tonight after all this waiting and planning, she was simply going to combust.

Martin had to suppress a chuckle as he noted her reaction to his teasing in the booth, and for a moment he was fairly certain he could get her spread naked on the table right there, if he so desired. But her mention of home and exhaustion incited something else in him. It had been a long flight with little sleep, which had taken its toll. For the first time, he felt as tired as he must have looked, for her to keep mentioning it.

They rose and started out the door, and he was glad she was paying, as he had very little money, and none of that had been converted yet. He followed with a slight smile as they went outside and found a cab. During the ride though, he was finding it hard to stay awake. His thoughts drifted to just how much work he had to do, but just how well it was going so far. He knew he could pull this off, he just had to...

Soon, they had boarded the train, and Tara seemed to be growing impatient. She had moved closer now, and he looked down her dress to be greeted by the sight of her nipples straining against the fabric. His fingers slipped up the material covering her lithe body, and he lightly rubbed across the tip of one of the buds through its confines. His groin was stirring more than the cab ride, and he was overcome with desire now.

His lips met hers and he forcefully began exploring her mouth with his tongue. He didn't care if anyone in the sparsely populated car saw as his hand ran up her thigh, under her skirt, and straight towards her heat. His fingertips found wetness, as he searched her folds. His lips slipped off of hers and down her jaw and neck. Teeth sunk into her shoulder as he forced a pair of fingers into her canal.

He idly wondered if anyone else was watching.

She shivered as he reached up to explore her nipple through her dress. She knew she was small chested but he seemed to like what he had hold of. Tara leaned forwards until she was practically in his lap, meeting Martin's lips eagerly instead of holding back. She didn't feel particularly submissive right now but it had been too long since she got laid. Sir kissed her hard, taking possession of her mouth and acquainting himself with it. Tara parried just as passionately, her arms going around him. Martin slid a hand up her thigh and kept right on going, cupping her ass and seeking out her slick core. Tara moaned into his mouth as he explored her folds, knowing he would find her vice-like after her months as a singleton.

As if reading her mind, Martin bit down on her shoulder and forced two fingers into her wet heat and her body flexed on the intrusion. Her gasp of surprise was lost in a deep kiss that fused them together as their bodies ground on each other shamelessly. Tara's pussy pulsed harder and she felt her control over the sensation beginning to slide. She pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, still tethered to his lips by a frail strand of saliva. She was flushed and breathless now, her eyes blazing with raw lust.

"It's been a long time, Sir." She purred. "If you keep this up I'm going to cum helplessly onto your hand. I'm afraid I'm a little rusty at orgasm control."

Tara heard a loud spluttering cough but a rustle of newspaper hid the culprit from her view before she looked across the gangway. It seemed she was experiencing public play for the first time. She knew she should be ashamed of herself but her heart wasn't in it. Tara still couldn't believe Martin was finally here.

"It's been a long time, Sir. If you keep this up I'm going to cum helplessly onto your hand. I'm afraid I'm a little rusty at orgasm control."

His lips curled up in a slight sneer. A long time, indeed. Her muscles clamped impossibly hard on his fingers as he worked them in and out noisily. He wondered if the squelching was drowned out at all by the noise of the train for anyone not in their immediate vicinity. But still he squelched on, ignoring the distant cough and rustle of a newspaper.

He pulled her closer and his lips brushed her ear. "It would be awfully naughty to cum in such a public setting, he teased. But he continued invading mercilessly, and now his thumb closed over her clit and brushed in time with his fingers' motions.

Now that their faces were pulled slightly from the kiss, he focused on watching her reaction carefully. The fingers manipulating a nipple switch quickly to the other, which was easy to find since the dress did little to hide the pronounced buds. His pinched harder than he meant to, then eased off a bit and settled on a firm rolling motion. A twist came next, and he found himself longing to get the material out of the way, and he idly wondered how much longer till their stop and her home. His hand circled her breast fully and squeezed while pushing the thoughts from his mind.

He watched carefully, and when her release seemed imminent, he pulled his soaked fingers free of her canal without warning and released her breast.

"I won't let you finish yet, little one..." Then Martin settled in his seat, a wicked grin plastered on his face as he drew his arm around her shoulder and held her close.

This was going to be fun. Soon enough he would be relieving his own need, which now pressed firmly against his trousers. Almost as a passing thought, he took her hand and guided it to the bulge, proof of his desires and a further tease upon her.

His sneer went right through her and ignited something deep and primal in the core of her being. How long had she dreamed of being looked at like that, slow, hard and assessing with a sneer of pure triumph. This was what she had been craving; a man who would treat her as his plaything and mock her while he did so. Her breath caught and she bit down hard on a loud moan.

"It would be awfully naughty to cum in such a public setting."

His voice was pitched low but he wasn't exactly whispering. Tara flushed crimson as he went right on playing with her. Martin's thumb pressed against her clit and the motion of the train had her rubbing against him before she knew what was happening. Martin's free hand went to work on her nipples and tits, working in counterpoint to his ministrations further south and twisting hard enough to make her eyes water. Tara's hips bucked into his hand, telling him how close she was.

And just as suddenly, he stopped. Martin yanked his fingers from her wet, swollen pussy and dropped her breast as though it had burnt him. For a fleeting moment Tara was bucking on fresh air, but she quickly fell still and he drew her back onto the seat beside him.

"I won't let you finish yet, little one..." He announced quietly.

Tara sat there with her sense blazing, her tits throbbing and her pussy pulsing with the same insistent rhythm. Her dress felt alien and confining because she was aware of every inch of fabric against her sensitised skin. She said nothing, not trusting herself to speak just yet and her mouth still hung slightly open in an incredulous 'O.'

Then Martin took her hand and pressed it to the bulge in his trousers. Tara explored him gently, tracing his hardness through the cloth. Just as she was wondering whether he expected her to pleasure him right there in the train carriage, the automated announcer cut into her fevered thoughts.

"Ours is the next stop Sir." She told him, letting go of his crotch and moving to smooth her clothes instead.

Tara's house was a short walk from the station and she set a pace that didn't let Martin find time for dalliance. The last thing she wanted was for one of her neighbours to witness her blowing a foreign stranger in the middle of the village. It was a close-knit community and as a nurse, her job was dependent on a certain amount of respect. Soon they got to her front door and she let him into her narrow Victorian hallway, which lead to her lounge and kitchen. Upstairs was her bedroom and a bathroom; '2 up 2 down' as people called it. The rooms were small but cosy and she had a scrap of garden at front and back. There was a cellar too but she never used it.

She led the way up to her bedroom, where she had laid out her modest collection of toys for his use. There were no restraints, because she had told Martin that she didn't want to be restrained until she knew him better. There was a small leather flogger, a leather covered paddle, a black silicone vibrator and a pot of lubricant. Her bed had an oak frame with four short posts and she had made it up fresh with some cream linen. They had agreed that her safeword would be 'red.'

Tara turned to Martin, unsure what to say or do next. She looked up at him trustingly. There was a good single malt downstairs if he wanted it and she had even bought a bag of ice for him but Tara couldn't get the words out. His hungry eyes were swallowing her whole.

Martin followed her off the train with a small smile on his face. He wondered where her house was as they walked, and he was getting impatient. He knew she was on a nurse's salary, but he really had no clue what that meant in a British economy with costs of living unknown to him. They were concerns, but ones that he would focus on more fully later, after he had established himself more fully.

They reached what he assumed was her residence, and he waited with as much patience as he could muster while she unlocked the door and led the way inside. They went upstairs almost immediately, and his eyes drank in her bedroom upon their arrival. His eyes drifted over the small collection of toys, considering for a moment each objects possible usage for his gains. A flogger, paddle, vibe, and lube weren't much in the grand scheme, but he would help to expand her collection soon.

She was standing in front of him as he gazed hungrily down her form. She seemed unable to speak, so he took the first play of the game. His hands drew to her shoulders and slid the straps of her dress down off of he shoulders. His smile was wicked as the fabric fell completely from her flesh and landed in a pool at her feet. There were the nipples he'd become acquainted with on the train, but had yet to see until now.

Hands slid down her body, exploring every inch of her quivering flesh. But before they reached her core, they paused and ran back up slowly. The stopped at her jaw and he pulled her face up to his. Lips brushed hers as if he were going to take another kiss from her, but that was as far as he went. Instead, he murmured softly, "Why don't you go get me a drink? No ice, little one."

As he waited, he fingered the flog and paddle on the bed, then picked up all the items and placed them on the nearby dresser. When she returned, he took the drink, drew a mouthful, then smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

He pulled her up against his body, then guided her slowly down, down, down till she settled on her knees before him. His lips curled up slightly as he spoke.

"Pull it out, little slut. Show me you know how to suck a cock..."

Tara tried to stand motionless as Martin slipped the dress from her shoulders and started exploring the body that had been fizzing for him all evening. She mostly succeeded but it was too tempting to press herself gently into his roaming hands. He teased her with the merest whisper of a kiss and it was all Tara could do not to stick her tongue down his throat. His low murmur rippled through her.

"Why don't you go get me a drink? No ice, little one."

She wanted to sprint downstairs but settled for the brisk, purposeful walk that carried her around her ward all day. She poured them both a large measure of whiskey and carried the glasses back up to him, suddenly feeling foolish. She was supposed to be the hostess here and yet Martin had just had to ask her for a drink. Tara blushed as she mentally chastised herself.

She watched him take the glass from her and drink from it, taking in the strength in his hands and the movements of his throat. She felt like she had half lost her mind already. It had been too damn long. It was probably bad form for her to stare like that but she couldn't rip her eyes away from him. She kept wanting to touch Martin, just to reassure herself that he really was here in her bedroom.

He pulled her close to him and she breathed in his scent again. He pushed her lower and she sank to her knees, her hard nipples grazing his trousers. Tara looked up at Martin, loving how he looked impossibly tall from this angle, his eyes gleaming with intent.

"Pull it out, little slut. Show me you know how to suck a cock..."

She freed him swiftly but carefully, exhaling a little sharply as she examined his cock. She had known from their chats that it would be the longest she had encountered but it had an impressive girth too and after her long dry spell, she wondered how much it would hurt when he took her... if he took her. Martin had enjoyed telling her how much she was going to have to work if she expected him to fuck her, and how good she had to be at sucking him. Suddenly she felt like an awkward teenager again, doubting her skill.

Tara realised she was in danger of hesitating too long for his satisfaction. She leaned forwards and swirled her tongue over the tip of it, letting her hunger for him moisten her mouth before she began sliding him in. His taste assailed her and like his scent, it was augmented by the long haul flight he'd been on. There was the slight tang of stale sweat and piss on him but that just made her feel like the dirty whore he wanted her to be. Tara moaned softly and started sucking him, moving her head up and down the shaft, discovering how much of him she could work into her small mouth comfortably. Martin had talked about skullfucking her to within an inch of her life and Tara's pussy pulsed as adrenaline began lacing her bloodstream. She had no clue what was going to happen from this point onwards, it would all be under his control. Tara started moving faster and sucking harder as her own arousal continued to spiral.

He suppressed all reaction as he took in the sensations of her tongue and mouth. Warmth, wetness, a textured tongue. It had been quite a while for them both, it seemed.

He raised the glass once more and took another sip. He was working to ignore everything he was feeling, all the work she was putting into her task. It helped to use distractions such as his glass or piece of lint on his shoulder, picked off as indifferently as he was portraying his lack of reaction to her mouth.

It wasn't enough for her to be willing to please, he had to convince her that she didn't deserve it. Her holes weren't good enough, and he more tolerated them than enjoyed using her. A hand made a vain attempt at guiding her, as if he was too impatient to really demonstrate what he desired from his new plaything.

He sighed and pulled her away, downed the rest of his drink. He left her there on her knees, not even looking at the face he'd just refused. As his clothes came off and fell to the floor in disarray, he silently resumed his study of the room. Then his toiletries were pulled from his bag and carried to the bathroom. Once he found the perfect temperature from the shower nozzle, he stepped in.

Finishing himself off in the shower was an easy task, and he'd scrubbed down within minutes. Once he was clean and satisfied, the water was turned off and he stepped out. Then it was a simple matter of toweling dry, brushing his teeth, and walking back to the bedroom.

His eyes never acknowledged her when he slipped into her bed and pulled the covers over his naked body.

Tara had been so engrossed in her task that she didn't immediately notice that Martin was unresponsive until he sighed. It was not the sort of sigh she had been expecting to hear and Tara lifted her eyes to see that her new Master was wearing an expression of disappointed boredom laced with annoyance. She froze for a moment, recoiling slightly as though he had backhanded her face. Tara persevered but nothing seemed to work. Sir moved her head a little but just as swiftly let her go, as though he couldn't see the point in trying to train her. Then the final insult came as he pulled himself out of her mouth, drained his glass and turned on his heel.

He undressed with his back to her and Tara just knelt there, unsure what she should do next. Marting disappeared into the bathroom and she heard him use the shower. Still she just knelt there, her whole body aching for a man who was utterly rejecting her. She cast her mind over all the things she had done to try and arouse him. She knew from their online scenes that he was likely to be playing games with her head but she still couldn't shake the nagging doubt that she had simply failed to turn him on.

When he returned, Martin's cock was completely flaccid and he didn't even glance at her, he simply climbed into her bed and turned off her lamp.

Tara was left kneeling in the darkness, not even knowing whether she was welcome in her own bed. He had not invited her to join him and she didn't think she could handle it if she tried to sleep beside him and got turned away. Her pussy burned and throbbed with raw need and utter humiliation.

Tara waited a while to see if he would relent and invite her to join him but Martin's breathing quickly slowed and deepened as he gave into jet-lag and fell asleep. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while yet herself, so Tara pulled on her bathrobe, slipped from the room and went down to the lounge. She drank another couple of whiskeys and then curled up on her sofa with a box of tissues to cry herself to sleep. She had waited many months for their first night together and now it had all gone wrong. She eventually fell into a half-drunk, dreamless slumber.

Martin awoke with a lazy stretch and a small amount of confusion as he tried to place his unfamiliar surroundings. This was her room, and he'd practically moved in like he owned it. He glanced to the empty pillow beside him, untouched through the night. She must be up and about already, but come to think of it, he didn't remember her climbing into bed at all. He went through the previous evening's events in his mind, but he'd been out like a bulb pretty much as soon as he collapsed in the bed, so he couldn't tell one way or the other.

What he did know was that like most mornings, he had a rather uncomfortable erection pressing into the sheets covering him. His feet hit the carpet as he moved from the bed and towards the bathroom. After relieving his full bladder, he washed his hands and dried casually before wandering naked downstairs, his member still throbbing as it bobbed free while he walked.

He found her curled up on the couch in what seemed to be an impossible ball. His head canted to the side and he gazed at the flesh of her ass, since her robe had slipped just right to allow full view.

And access...

It was a quiet padding up the stairs that drove him back to her room. He scooped up the pot of lubricant that had been callously pushed aside last night, and silently descended the stairs once more. He knew that realistically, she wouldn't be ready for a sudden entry into the pussy that was exposed for him, but he wanted it. So he stood above her, working the slick fluid onto his cock. There was just enough room left on the couch for him to squeeze in beside her. She was still curled sideways when his slippery cock pushed immediately into the exposed sex before him.

His hands pressed her hips down to prevent her escape while he claimed her cunt as his own in a rough manner.

Tara leaped awake as a slick, hard cock forced its way between her pussylips. By the time she was sufficiently coherent enough to react, he was fully inside her, holding her hips down and fucking her hard. Martin was doing absolutely nothing to try and arouse her and when she twisted round to look at him his expression was contemptuous. Tara reached down between her legs to confirm what she suspected, he wasn't using protection either. She suddenly felt way out of her depth. She had invited this man into her home and so far he had rejected and humiliated her and now was moving on to rape. None of this was what she had expected to happen and she didn't like the way he was making her feel one little bit.

"Red!" She cried, their agreed safeword. "Martin stop that. I don't want to have unprotected sex with you and I think we should talk about last night."

She pushed his hands off of her hip and scrambled away from him, tugging her robe back around herself protectively. She moved away from him, unwilling to be within arm's reach of this relative stranger, scared of what he might do.

"None of this is what I expected to happen. I know you want to express your dominance in your own way but to reject me like that as soon as you got here was just awful, and now the first time you've been inside me you've broken my limit about contraception and you've done nothing to bond with me or make our time together special. I might enjoy feeling like a useless set of holes with someone I trust and genuinely respect but I don't like the idea that that's really all I am to you. We connected over dinner and on the way here but since then, it's like you're not here with me at all. I can't believe you did that to me, for our first time together."

As Martin was just starting to fully enjoy the pussy closing around his manhood, she was waking up and suddenly scrambling away. Confusion gave way to anger, but was dismissed as soon as she began speaking. He recognized that this needed a delicate touch, as the heavier domination would have to wait until later. At some point where he wasn't trying to avoid being thrown out on the street without anywhere to go. He could grab and throw her down, sure, but it wouldn't achieve his overall goal. So he decided to play it carefully.

Very carefully...

"Look, I'm really sorry about last night. I was just so tired, and the whiskey went straight to my head." He offered a faux sheepish smile and lightly touched her arm. "And I just got so overwhelmed this morning, by your beauty. I simply forgot, I wasn't thinking about a condom, I just wanted you so badly..."

He paused at this, frustrated that his hard cock still wasn't getting any attention, and he sighed softly. But he had to make her understand this somehow, had to make her believe. Too much rode on this to screw it up now. He furrowed his brow, and continued.

"How about we get some breakfast, and talk this over? Then we'll start fresh. How's that sound?"

He started to stand up, then offered a hug, the sweetest apologetic look he could muster plastered across his face. "Breakfast? Just lead the way, we'll whip up something..."

She just had to buy what he was selling.

Tara wanted to believe him.

She had invested too much time, energy and trust into getting to know Martin to let it all backfire now. She didn't want to believe that she was capable of such a gross error of judgement, to let an abusive man into her home and submit to him. She could see things from his perspective up to a point, and he was a foreigner in a strange land with a new woman who was trying to make his dominance felt. But he had been far more callous than she could stand at such an early stage in their RL dynamic. She didn't think she was being unreasonable and if he was sincere, neither did he.

She returned his hug and some of the tension ebbed from her, but not enough. Tara walked ahead of him into the kitchen and found she disliked not having him in her line of sight. Her trust in him had been damaged and she was wary, remaining out of his reach as she flipped the kettle on and rummaged in the fridge for something to feed her guest. After the way they had connected in the restaurant last night, and the train home, it was heartbreaking to suddenly feel so scared of him. This was a man who had been in the military, a trained and experienced killer. She had heard him talk about his ability to incapacitate and maim people as though commenting on the weather. What if he was a psychopath, a psychologically damaged veteran whose humanity had been destroyed by warfare?

He was still eyeing her intently, silently asking her if they were ok now. Well what else was she going to say to the comparative stranger who might or might not be a traumatised, woman hating nutjob?

"So what do you like to eat for breakfast?" She asked, swallowing and trying to act casual.

Tara cooked him up some eggs, bacon and toast things she had bought in on the assumption that she would have woken this morning sated, aching and hungry. Just smelling the food as it cooked made her nauseous but it gave her something to do. She placed Martin's breakfast in front of him along with some OJ and pushed a far smaller portion around a plate herself. It occurred to her that he might want her to act more submissive but she felt too ambivalent about her new Master. Tara simply sat there across from him and kept her eyes lowered so he wouldn't see the panic and distrust.

She didn't seem to be buying it, and Martin was having a hard time not backhanding her and wiping her face in the floor while laughing and telling her exactly how it would be from now on. But he held his tongue (and hand) in check, for now. There would be plenty of time for that later, and he had a feeling that making her fall head over heals for him before he brought out the big guns would work so much better.

He sighed and offered a soft smile, trying to break down the guard she'd erected. They ate in silence. Well, he ate, she seemed to not be very hungry. In between bites of the rather well-prepared bacon and eggs, his mind churned and planned. Maybe a romantic picnic would solve the problems. Or at least serve to smooth them over and make his entrance to her heart that much easier. Maybe...

As he finished, he offered another warm smile. "That was delicious, my dear." He stood and took the plates, cleaning them thoroughly before putting them in their respective cabinets. This kind o behavior certainly wasn't par for the course, but he was doing what he felt he must, to convey genuine remorse for his actions. Even if there was no remorse to be found.

He leaned against the counter, gazing at her for a moment, then slowly moved closer, he drew her up from the chair by her wrists in a romantic gesture and leaned in close, as if about to lay a gentle lover's kiss on her lips. His forehead met hers, and he whispered softly, "Let's head out for a bit. We'll stop and get my currency changed over, then head out to the park. I meant what I said about starting over, ya know. We'll spend the entire day just getting to know one another..." He paused and went for the light kiss, then continued. "What do you say?"

His eyes were clear, and gazing deeply into hers. He struggled to convey dominance, while showing a clear romantic edge at the same time.

He obviously wanted to make things up to her, and Tara decided to let him. If they were out in public he wouldn't be able to attack her and if she was still scared of him by the end of the day she could call a couple of friends to come over, make him take his stuff and leave. In her house he could do what he liked but outside, he was a clueless foreigner. That had to give her an advantage of some kind.

"Ok." She said. "I'm going to go shower."

Tara locked the bathroom door. It was only a small bolt that he could force if he chose to without too much effort but that wasn't the point. The point was knowing whether he was going to respect her limits and let her go at her own pace.

He seemed genuinely remorseful but Tara still had trouble with the fact he had felt able to treat her that way at all. Her pussy still smarted from his forced entry and for the first time in her journey into submission, Tara felt dirty and humiliated... and not in a good way. Remembering the sneer on his face that she had woken to see, it made her stomach churn. She resisted the urge to cry, worried he might hear her over the water. A few tears did fall but that was all she would allow herself.

She wasted no time, shaving herself a little clumsily but exiting the bathroom while there was still enough hot water for Martin to use. After that she went into her bedroom and shut the door, moisturising and dressing swiftly. She chose jeans and a black vest top, nothing too accessible. Tara put on some make-up but kept it light and neutral, nothing overly sexy or vampy. She threw some anti-frizz stuff into her rebellious curls and took a hairdryer to them. When she was done she went back downstairs. She had nothing that was suitable for a picnic but she found a backpack and grabbed her purse.

While waiting for her to complete her cleansing rituals, Martin was aware of his own needs. One need for cleanliness, the other for the pain in his groin. The bitch would pay for leaving him with blueballs, but not anytime soon. He had to play his cards more carefully. So, he sat in the kitchen, waiting for his turn in the shower. Then he realized he could be preparing, so he stood and exited, bounding up the stairs to find his pack and pull out a pair of wrinkle-free khakis and a black collared shirt. Thankfully, the short-sleeve shirt was a loose silk-like material, which didn't wrinkle easily, which was a blessing after the long trans-atlantic flight.

The last items were a pair of simple green boxers and some black socks, all of which laid out on the couch pending his return from the shower. She sounded like she was drying her hair, so he stood near the bedroom door, careful not to block it. Now it was back to waiting as patiently as possible. He struggled to maintain a kind expression on his face, lest she come out and find him scowling.

He felt he had achieved it with pretty fair success when she finally did exit the room, clothed more conservatively than he would have hoped. But he didn't allow the disappointment to show, and instead stepped forward slowly, attempting to display non-aggression when he took her in her arms and kissed her lips softly.

"I'll be quick in the shower, little one, and then we can set about making things right..."

Then he entered the room and stepped into the still-wet shower and quickly worked to get clean under what was left of the hot water. Then he stepped out and toweled briskly, cursing his lack of time to take care of his issue, knowing it would be painful but necessary to deal with for the day. After brushing his teeth, he stepped out and got dressed, feeling outwardly refreshed and ready for the day.

As he exited the room, he called out pleasantly, "Are we ready to go?"

Tara almost collided with Martin as he intercepted her on the landing for a kiss. He drew her into his arms gently and she went willingly, trying to remember all the stuff she'd discussed with him online and how right for her he had seemed. She returned his kiss but with muted passion, not wanting him to get any ideas about sexual intimacy just yet. Hopefully a day in the sunlight being romantic and couply would bury the painful memory of what he had done to her. If not, she was simply going to have to tell him to go home. It would be heartbreaking after the time and passion she had invested in him but it would be better to cut her losses. If she couldn't trust him by this evening, then he clearly wasn't right for her, it was as simple as that.

While he showered, Tara took advantage of the noisily cascading water to go downstairs and make a phonecall. She hadn't been able to tell her friends about her overseas visitor. If they knew she met him online they'd think she was a sad geek and she could hardly go into detail about why only a man she'd connected with in IM half a world away had seemed to be the right kind of depraved sadist to dominate her. Now she was doubting Martin and how safe she was with him though, it was time she called someone. She rang a nursing colleague and friend called Louise. The bubbly woman's Scottish lilt came onto the line.

"Tara! You shouldn't be calling me. How are you enjoying your annual leave?"

"Fine thanks." She replied. "I wanted to ask you though, you on an early duty?"

"Yes, finish at 2pm."

"Ok, I'm meeting a blind date for a picnic in the park but... I'm a bit nervous. Will you call me this afternoon, just just to see how I am?"

"Sure if it'll make you feel safer, I don't mind. Who's set you up with this guy then."

"Oh... nobody you know. Look, if I use the word 'fantastic' at any point, can you call the police and tell them I'm in trouble. This guy knows where I live but I don't know him... yet."

"You sure you're ok? I'll call you, don't worry about that. You look after yourself though, stay somewhere public with him."

"Sure, I will. Thanks Lou."

"No problem, got to dash. Speak soon then , bye."

The older woman hung up and Tara clutched the phone to her chest, then put Louise on speedial. The only park in walking distance was down by the river path and it was that footpath that concerned her. Nothing would happen to her on a sunny day in the park but if he dragged her down that seldom used dirt walkway, she really would be at his mercy.

When he called down to her she answered with a lot more cheerfulness than she felt and they left the house. It felt strange to be walking through her village with the tall American. She took him to the post office first, a sleepy and totally asymmetrical Tudor building with an ancient postmaster who thought technology was witchcraft. Martin would get his money exchanged because they kept Euros and US Dollars there. Once that was accomplished at the old boy's valiant snailpace, Tara took him to a parade of shops. There was a family run deli/sandwich place that had a limited but good quality range of stuff, a bakery and a rural version of a supermarket that also sold cigarettes and alcohol. There she stopped guiding him and let him purchase what he wanted, unsure how much money he had and what he'd want their picnic meal to consist of.

After the frustrating process of getting his currency changed over, during which he played down the fact that it was all the money he had left, they made their way to the shops down the street. It was quite a different experience than what he was used to, but familiar enough that he knew the general game. Of course, he had no idea what was a fair price in pounds for the items he was working to purchase, but he trusted that she wouldn't allow him to be completely screwed over. She knew full well he was clueless as to the British economy, so she would have interjected if something was amiss. At least that was his hope.

They entered the sandwich shop, and after taking a number and waiting, placed their order. He realized that he had no idea what kind of sandwiches she enjoyed, so he let her pick her own for herself. After some drinks and sandwiches were ordered, he picked out some fruit and vegetables to balance out the meal, mentally counting and adding against his available funds.

They were soon on their way out, and lazily walked with bag in arm. He slid his free hand around her waist and settled on some small talk about the weather, the environment, and the society in general. Always avoid politics, in small talk, was his creed, and so he did. But everything else about the land and country were fair game, as far as he was concerned. And talk he did, garnering answers to the most mundane of questions, hoping not to distract her too much, as she was the only one that knew the way to the park.

When they finally arrived, his stomach was growling again. He was desperately praying she was in a better mood as he picked out the most scenic bench he could for their meal. The items were laid out before them carefully, and as he took his first bites of the rather well-prepared food, he gazed at her warmly. To get her completely comfortable again would take all day, he was sure, if it was even possible at all. She surely felt hurt and betrayed by his actions, while he was stuffing down his anger over being denied, and having to work this hard to get back in her graces. It was frustrating work, and it wasn't exactly being made easy. Uptight bitch... He couldn't wait to batter through her resistances and take what was rightfully his, as her new Master.

"So, tell me all about this park," he began, after swallowing his first bite.

He was really making an effort and so Tara endeavoured to relax around him. It was a beautiful day too, which helped her to distance herself mentally from the events of last night and this morning. Martin bought them some sandwiches, though she noticed him frowning slightly in the way people did when doing mental arithmetic. That concerned her slightly because he had told her his security business was doing well. This was only his first day here, so if he was already concerned about his funds then something wasn't right. Perhaps he had traveller's cheques or something that would require them to visit the nearest town some miles away?

She allowed herself to be drawn into conversation with him, telling him more about her country and her life here, pointing out places he might be interested in as they passed, like the local Anglican church. His arm slipped around her and Tara forced herself to relax into his embrace. Eventually they made it to the park and sat down to eat, whereupon he asked about the place.

"The park goes all the way down to the river." She explained. "The river runs down through the grounds of an Abbey and then a few hundred yards past the Abbey there's a little waterfall. It's really pretty and people throw coins in for good luck. The coins get collected for a local children's hospice. The Abbey's really old, much older than the church. There are still nuns there too, though you don't often see them."

Tara fell quiet for a moment, admiring his tanned features. It still seemed ludicrous that such a handsome guy would fly around the world to meet her when he must have had plenty of offers back home.

"So tell me about your home town." She asked, realising that Martin had been focusing on her again. She was beginning to think he didn't want to talk about himself, which was ringing another alarm bell in her mind. She drew closer to him on the bench, wanting to connect with him, to be wrong about him.

His home town? He furrowed his brow in mock confusion, a friendly grin passing his face.

"Well, I'm not sure what you want to know..." He spoke as he ate, smoothly adding fiction to the facts regarding his personal life and place of residence. He tossed in names of old friends as if he worked with them still, careful to leave out specifics in his stories, keeping things vague was the best way to go about it. Their meals were nearing their conclusion, and still he rambled on. Stories to elicit gentle laughter, lighthearted half-truths, stretched to match his cover, and he was hoping it was working. He'd practiced getting everything just right on the long flight, to make sure he never crossed any facts.

And this was the test.

So, they had long since finished eating by the time he sighed happily and stood up. "Come on, why don't you she me the waterfall? It sounds like a wonderful place to see."

He waited to see if she responded, his face plastered in the most charming smile he could muster. She couldn't possibly be questioning him much more, after everything he'd done today. She certainly seemed to be opening up, seeming more responsive to gestures, getting closer to him, more gentle facial expressions. She clearly wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Just had to pour on the romantic charm, and he'd be in her pants again by tonight. As long as everything went according to plan, of course. He just had to keep it up.

Martin offered his hand, his smile disarming. "Come on..."

Tara suddenly regretted telling him about the waterfall because it was reached by walking along the river path she'd been skittish about. There was nothing else for it now though, so she took his hand and led the way. Unlike the park, the path was mostly deserted but for the occasional dog walker or jogger. The river lay to one side, maybe a hundred yards wide, meandering down to the next village. On the other side of the path was woodland. Not especially deep or dense but enough to provide cover if he was swift and able to keep her silent. Tara tried not to think about that. They went past the high stone walls of the Abbey and Tara told Martin about the sweet old nuns who still lived there. She pointed out a few landmarks that lay across the river and after less than half an hour of strolling they reached the waterfall. It was busier here because people walked along the river from both directions to see the waterfall. The river narrowed and then dropped maybe thirty feet before widening into a small lake. Further away still, the river continued on and turned a corner, out of sight.

"Here we are." She said needlessly, trying to keep things light. She drew him to a bench so they could sit for a while and remained relaxed as his arm went around her. A few of the people there knew her as a local nurse and she got a few looks and comments from being on the arm of a stranger, though she pretended not to notice. Wait till he opened his mouth and they heard he was American, she thought. The knot of fear eased within her belly because it was such a tranquil place and they had walked all the way here without Martin trying anything stupid. She couldn't think of him as Sir or Master yet, he hadn't earned back that level of trust. For now he was just Martin, and Tara continued to give him the benefit of the doubt.