A Story of Dark Love

I loved Rachel for months before I met her in person. It began as a cautious, deliberate acceptance of intrigue and lust, and developed into admiration and appreciation of her as a person. This was my first love for her, and it was tempered with fear and mistrust on both of our parts. Later, as we knew each other better, shared more of ourselves and risked more in that sharing, I fell deeply in love. I savored the ache and longing that came with having those feelings for someone who is not touchable, not seeable, and only partly knowable. We did not live very far apart geographically, but our lives and situations made those miles as insurmountable as continents.

I thought of her constantly, as one does a new love. But like a devout Catholic's guilt who is unable to attend confession, my infatuation was never tempered or released by seeing her, touching her, or even being near her. We typed to each other, even spoke on the phone, but I did not know her smell, know what her trembles felt like, could not understand her better by reading her face. My thoughts wandered often to these questions, and I let myself dwell upon them for many hours. Do her eyes crinkle when she laughs? Is her gait rolling, or staccato? When she talks, does she move her move her hands expressively, or leave them at her side? I knew her eyes were a beautiful, deep green from the one photograph I had of her. Do they change colors with her mood? Do they appear brown in dim light, and get bright green in the sun? I wanted to know everything about her.

Finally, months after first finding each other, we met in person. I was not nervous about whether she would find me attractive, physically – she had seen photographs – but I was nervous whether I would be able to greet her without becoming overly emotional. I was right to be nervous; when she stepped out of her car, I found myself unable to say a word, and so simply took her in my arms and held her to me for many minutes, finally finding enough breath to whisper "I love you," into her ear.

Pushing up on her toes, she whispered back, "So much, so very much," and I felt less embarrassment for the tears welling in my eyes by seeing the tears sparkle on her cheeks.

In the preceding months Rachel had let me control many parts of her life. She had let me mark her by coloring her hair as I had asked, and by keeping the nail of her small finger trimmed short while the others remained long. I had her agree to a list of things which we each would and would not do regarding each other, and I had made a daily schedule for her to follow which accounted for most of her waking hours. She had influence over this list and schedule; they were something we did together, but they were a way of me holding her, and controlling her. In return, I loved her, cherished her, encouraged her, and tried very much to be a steadying and reliable presence in her life. There were some areas of her life with which I did not directly interfere, however, and the time of our meeting was chief among them. She had decided when it was to be, and under what conditions.

We drove together for several hours after meeting in the parking lot. We listened to music, told stories, talked of our experiences together, and often sat unspeaking, just reveling in being close enough to touch.

After walking on the beach and warming ourselves by a fire back at our cabin, we grew more affectionate and, quickly, passionate. Holding her in my lap facing me in front of the fire, I spoke to her firmly; stating, not asking – "You are mine."

"Yes, Sir, I am yours," was her perfect reply.

"Come with me, now." And, standing, I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. "Undress." As I adjusted the water in the shower, I sat on the edge of the tub and watched her remove her clothes. She was nervous, but had no reason to be. Her body was as I had imagined it, perfect. She was a tiny woman, with large, full breasts and gorgeous silvery stretch marks running up her abdomen. We all have our fetishes, and this is one of mine: the body of a woman who has carried children looks and feels more feminine to me, more adult, more womanly. Between her legs, Rachel's patch was trimmed closely, auburn colored, the lips shaved. Her face was scarlet with embarrassment and excitement as I sat for several minutes just gazing at her, saying nothing, my breathing getting more rapid. Quickly, I stood and undressed, and I noticed her eyes went quickly to my swollen, leaking cock. We had not yet touched sexually. "It is just looking at you, being near you," I said.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, and, reaching between her legs then showing me her hand, proudly displayed damp, glistening fingers.

I took her arm and guided her into the shower. "Of all the fantasies we have shared, Rachel, the one I think of the most often is this." I turned her to face me, her back to the water and put my hands on her, one on top of her head and one under her chin. Tipping her head back, I let the water flow freely over her hair and then worked it in, making sure her hair was completely wet. Turning her away from me, I rubbed a generous amount of fancy shampoo in to her hair, careful not to pull it, working the lather into her scalp, scrubbing behind her ears, making sure every part of her hairline was scrubbed, but no suds got in her eyes. Finally, satisfied, I turned her back to the spray and tilted her head again, rinsing carefully.

********************

Lathering a washcloth with lavender soap, I washed her face and rinsed it under the warm water. Then I soaped her neck, her shoulders, washed under her arms, and scrubbed her back. Her eyes were closed most of the time, but she let me know she was enjoying it with quiet murmurs. I knelt and washed her feet, her calves, her thighs, and then stood and washed her hands and arms. Finally, I lathered her large, perfect breasts and drew her to me in a slippery embrace. I tilted her head, my hands on either side of her face, and kissed her deeply, tongues dancing against each other. Her nipples tightened and grew against my lower chest, and my cock began to pulse, jumping to attention. I stepped back and guided her to the back of the shower. "Place your hands on the wall, please." She did, and without being told, spread her legs in a prone position.

"Is this right, Sir?"

"Yes, Darling, that is perfect." I soaped her ass and pussy, then, carefully working one finger gently into each hole, cleaning and possessing her most private places. Her breathing quickened and deepened, but I quickly withdrew and rinsed her off, not wanting the soap to burn her. Unable to resist her beautiful as cheeks sticking out at me, I leaned over her back and whispered to her, "It is time to turn your ass red. Are you ready?"

She breathed in deeply, steeling herself, "Yes, Sir."

I smacked her fanny hard then, the water adding to the sting and the sound echoing in the shower. I switched back and forth, right and left, again and again, until I could see my handprint clearly on each cheek, then laid my hand evenly across both, bridging the red spots between them. She squealed and moaned, tears came to her eyes and ran down her face, but she did not move away, did not tell me to stop, and did not say her safe word. I was very proud and I told her so.

"Please, Sir, please..."

"Yes, Little One?"

"Please..."

I turned her, then, and pushed her to her knees, the water at my back and she in front of me. Looking up at me, tears and water glistening on her face, she held out her tongue and opened her mouth, shaping a perfect "O" –

"Yes, Little One, yes, you may." My hands found went to her hair as she cupped my full balls and flicked her tongue over the head of my cock. Excited from the spanking I had given her, I was leaking profusely and she gathered every drop onto her tongue, savoring it all. She began to whimper, then, a long time fantasy coming true for both of us. "Are you ready now, Darling?" She looked up at me, blinked, nodded, and then placed her hands in her own lap, as we had talked about before. My hands in her hair, holding her steady, I slowly pushed my shaft past her puffy lips, over her flattened tongue, and, finally, felt the head of my cock in the back of her throat, my heavy balls resting on her chin. Amazingly, she pushed her tongue up against the underside of my shaft, tightening the seal, and then, somehow, managed to sigh the most contented sigh I have ever heard from a woman. I withdrew from her mouth, which extracted a whimper from her, and helped her up. I guided her out of the shower and toweled her off quickly, then she me. I led her to the bed and laid her down on her back. Working quickly, I tied her wrists with soft rope, then pulled them up over her head and knotted them to the bed posts.

I straddled her head, knees on either side of her face and commanded her, "Open." She did, and as my cock had mostly softened since out play in the shower, it fit easily in her open mouth. I thrust my hips just a little and my balls rested perfectly on Rachel's chin. Her eyes opened wide, and I saw just a little fear there. With her head flat against the bed, and my cock growing in her mouth, breathing was becoming difficult. I withdrew about halfway and made sure she had a few good breaths, then, my cock beginning to throb again, pushed slowly back into her mouth. Again and again I drew back and pushed forth, letting her breathe, then closing her throat with the head of my swollen cock. I swelled more and more, her eyes watered and her breaths shortened. I withdrew completely and smiled down at her. "I have not forgotten your safe word, darling. Are you all right?" She smiled and held out her tongue for an answer. Strongly, I pushed back into her mouth and held my cock in the back of her throat for a full count of fifteen. Then, withdrawing, I moved back and kneeled between her knees and stroked myself.

Rachel thrashed against her bonds and bucked her hips toward me. She was ready. With my thumb, I massaged her swollen clitoris, then parted her outer lips to test for moisture. She was soaked. I cupped her head with my left hand and pulled her hair, forcing her neck to arch. With my right hand I guided my length to her opening. "Are you ready, my love?"

Her eyes closed, she moaned, "Please, please, please."

"Do not forget, not until I say it all right."

"I will try, Sir."

And then I thrust forward, parting her for the first time after so many shared fantasies. She was as wet and warm as perfect as I had hoped. Slowly but firmly I pushed, until I could feel her cervix envelop my bulb, and then I began to rock. Leaning down, we kissed, and then I captured her nipples and sucked, then bit, then gnawed as she thrashed and pleaded, "Please, please..."

"What, lover, what do you want? Tell me plainly and I may allow it."

"Please, Sir, oh Christ, please let me come."

And with that I let go her hair, placed a hand on either side of her face and told her," Look into my eyes, and then come with me, come hard." Her eyes opened and our gazes locked as I ground against her.

"Oh God, yes,, Sir, yes yes yes," she moaned as she came hard and then I, right behinf her, filling her...

*********************

I stoked the fire and added a few pieces of wood, being as quiet as possible. When I was sure it was going, I started breakfast. I knew she liked coffee and something light in the morning. Coffee, then grapefruit, a pitcher of water, and a small glass of milk, laid out on a tray with a sea shell I had found on the beach the afternoon before. I brought them to the her side and laid the tray on the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed and woke her with soft kisses to her closed eyes.

"Breakfast, my sweet?"

"Mmhmm, yes please, Sir."

I propped her up with pillows and set the tray on her lap. "You eat, darling; I will tell you a story." She nodded and smiled around her grapefruit.

This is a story about a far away place, where quiet was not valued, where noise and commotion were a part of life for everyone, and where the King and Queen ruled benevolently but absolutely.

The King and the Queen had a son of whom they were very fond, Prince Charlie. For Charlie's tenth birthday, his parents told him they would give him anything in the kingdom, anything at all, or take him on a trip to someplace far away and exciting. Charlie thought hard about what gift he might want for his birthday – it seemed as though he could have anything he could want, but he felt that way most of the time, anyway, so he wanted to come up with something really special this time.

After thinking it over for a while, he told his parents that what he really wanted more than anything was to hear the loudest noise in the world. "I want to stand on the deck of the castle and have all of the citizens gather in the courtyards around the castle, and then I want everyone, even you two, Mom and Dad, to yell as loud they can. Everyone, that is, except me. I will just stand there and listen. And then I will be really special, because I will have heard the loudest noise in the world."

The next day, criers traveled all over the kingdom, announcing the date and time for the citizens to gather and yell for the prince. They put up placards on walls, announced the date and time on street corners, and town guards made it clear to everyone they saw that attendance was not optional, but mandatory.

The Royal Family watched the goings on with satisfaction, but far away, in a distant corner of the kingdom, a young girl named Rachel was not happy. You see, she shared the prince's birthday, and in fact would be turning ten years old on that day herself. She knew her parents, who were simple farmers, would not be able to do more for her birthday than light a candle and make sure she got a little extra treacle pie that night. And to make it worse, instead of having a party or playing with her friends outside, she would have to go to the town square and yell for the prince! She was feeling sorry for herself, and angry with the prince for being the prince (which she knew wasn't his fault, but still!!!) when her parents came to her and told her something very important.

"Rachel, you are a very good little girl," they said, "And we wish we could buy you the gifts you deserve, but alas, we cannot. So, what we want you to do is, when everyone in the kingdom yells for the prince, we want you to be quiet, so that like the prince, you can hear it, too."

"Oh oh oh oh Mommy! Daddy! Oh thank you! This will be great!" But later that night, she began to feel guilty for her jealous thoughts earlier, and for thinking her parents would not get her anything for her birthday. The next morning, she went to her parents and told them she would feel bad enjoying her gift all by herself, so couldn't they be quiet and hear the loudest noise in the world as well? Because otherwise, she just wouldn't really enjoy it. After talking it over, the whole family agreed that they would be quiet when all the rest of the kingdom was yelling.

The next day Rachel's father visited his mother, who was old and sick. He thought, "Well, she is so old and sick, maybe it would cheer her up," and suggested she be quiet, too. Rachel's grandmother liked the idea, and was so excited about it, she muttered to herself all day about hearing the loudest noise in the world. The Laundry Lady heard her muttering, and resolved to listen to the noise as well. She told her husband, who told his coworkers at the mills, who told their children, who told their friends, who told their parents...

The afternoon of the prince's birthday (and of Rachel's) the people of the kingdom gathered. The simple sound of all the muttering was quite loud, actually, and people had a hard time hearing the King's announcement. The time came, though; he raised his hand, and then lowered it sharply. And for the first time in the history of the kingdom, No one, not a single citizen, not the Prince, not the King, not the Queen said a single word, and for the first time in any of their lives, the entire kingdom heard the sound of quiet.

From that day on, there was quiet in the kingdom. They learned to value peace, and enjoyed silence as much as clamor. Years later, Charlie and Rachel were lucky enough to meet, and go to know each other... but that is a story for another day.