At Play in the Garden

"Is this lesson getting thorough to you, my dear?" I said, as the insanity set in stronger and stronger. Let everything Kyle said be true, I didn't care; anything that granted me an excuse to attack her ass was welcomed at that point. Everything shitty I'd felt before, was now just a turn on, and I couldn't hold out for more than five minutes before I felt the need to lose the seed. I pulled out and lifted her up by her shoulder, then pushed her head towards my cock. She knew exactly what I asking, even though it was all new to me and I didn't have a clue, and she took my cock into her mouth and arched her neck to move down over it, expertly so. Really, what monstrous fucking thing was I doing to my girlfriend? I was completely insane. I pushed into her throat and she kept her lips around my shaft tight, and then it happened, my balls snuggled together as I fired off into her hot watery mouth, and she softly hummed, her gift well received.

I was dizzy by the time the last drip met her tongue and I sat down on the floor, and then fell back, laying there. She crawled up next to me, pulling up my shirt and commenced with tiny kisses. She had a strange glow about her, like her world was perfectly settled, and I couldn't help but wonder if my little sub felt it her duty to take my pain onto herself, and in her own subservient way, she'd taken care of me. I was breathless, confused, staring intensely at the ceiling. She softly stroked my chest with her hand as her little kisses found their way to my cheeks and forehead, and my insanity subsided as she smothered me in her gentle lips. I turned so that our mouths met, and we kissed each other deep and hard, and I suddenly felt better about everything. I knew a strange shift had happened between us, a shift towards something a little dark and foreboding, yet somehow warmer and more wonderful than anything.

My eyes had been opened.

Things continued to go well between us, I'd met her mom and sister, and they were wild fun people. Her mom was a bit of a hippy, and her sister Sage was not at all how I'd imagined her to be. The only word I'd heard to describe her before was 'slut', and while technically she might have been a slut in her quantity of lovers, she wasn't the type to look for any validation from a man or in any way 'easy'.

It was a vegetarian meal, but it was excellent, everything coming from their mom's garden. While we ate, Sage did most of the talking, asking me and her new boyfriend all kinds of hard questions, and sharing stories about Rosemary that caused Rosemary to blush. She controlled the room, being extremely charismatic, and capped off every joke with the greatest laugh I've ever heard. Her boyfriend was cool, but I don't remember his name, just that he seemed like a pretty easy going surfer in pursuit of laughs and waves. Although he did have eye liner on, so he was most likely a bit of a Goth freak himself. I admit, by the end of dinner I was a bit smitten with Sage, and already looking forward to doing this again.

After dinner, the sisters gave us a tour of their old rooms and their yard where they would play after school. Their mom's garden took up most of it, but she left wide aisles between the vegetables and flowers that the girls would run along as kids. In the middle, in a spot that was not very visible form the house, there was an old 'T' shaped pole that had been part of a clothesline, and Sage ran to it, followed by Rosemary. The sun was setting, and shadows from corn stalks fell across their faces. Sage appeared to be a slightly more masculine version of Rosemary, but it didn't make her any less beautiful. She stood two inches taller than Rosemary, and was two years older, and so pretty much over shadowed her in everyway.

Sage then announced that the clothesline pole was part of their favorite game, which entailed tying Rosemary up and making her some tea. The way she'd described it, Rosemary would stand straight against the pole, and she'd wrap this really, really long rope around Rosemary, forming so many loops that she was pretty much entirely covered by rope from just below her shoulders to just above her knees. Sage would then run into the house, put on a kettle, take a TV tray out to the garden, and set it up right in front of Rosemary. She'd then carry out a smaller fancy tray holding their mother's china teapot with mint tea brewing inside, and two, tiny, matching, china cups. She poured the tea and sat at her end of the table. Occasionally she'd stand up and put Rosemary's cup to her lips, so Rosemary could take a sip.

As if reading my mind, her boyfriend said, "That is the kinkiest, hottest thing I've ever heard."

Instantly Sage joked back at him, "Shut up, Mr. Please-handcuff-me-to-the-bed." Then she explained that it didn't really get kinky until they entered their teens. By then she'd undress Rosemary before tying her up, and the process of tying usually took about ten minutes to completely wrap her to the pole. Rosemary blushed as Sage spoke, and I could tell she was mildly excited, looking at Sage with the wide compliant gaze that gets me going every time. When complete, the tight loops kept Rosemary's body from being completely exposed, but if anyone were to see her like that, her bare shoulders and slivers of skin peeking between the ropes would reveal her predicament. And there she'd stay, helpless, a naked twelve-year-old girl, tied up with no chance of getting away, while her sister made tea in the house.

"She used to put bugs in the tea." Rosemary added.

Sage's surfer boyfriend and I both gave Sage a nasty look and groaned in disgust.

"What?" she asked, feeling cornered, "I didn't make her eat the bugs. It was just those little pill bugs, and they'd sit at the bottom of the cup like a sugar cube, and she'd sip the tea."

"And she made me smoke a joint. And she had her boyfriend come over and they kissed all over my face and felt me up."

We again looked at Sage in astonishment.

"We were older. You were what, thirteen? I was fifteen. It was my first real boyfriend. I was fifteen and I'm tying my naked, little sister up in the backyard, it just seemed like something I should share with my boyfriend. And shut up, Rosemary, your little submissive ass loved it. Don't play innocent."

Rosemary only smiled back, a bit wicked, a bit seductive, and far from innocent.

Once again, the more I learned about Rosemary, the more I loved her.

Not long after that, I was invited to a bachelor party for my friend Emory. Stanz was hosting it, because his parents were out of town and they had pretty nice digs, nice for Torrance, anyway. A stripper had been hired but we were all hanging out by the pool trying to float a keg before her magic hour came. There were about fifteen of us, and someone had brought some coke and someone else some weed. Kyle was there, and I'd only spoken to him once since we'd had it out on the phone. We weren't the best of friends before, and now we were maybe acquaintances.

One of the guys jumped in the Jacuzzi and water came splashing out, running into the small flower garden next to the house, and Stanz yelled, "Cool it with the water, retard, your gonna kill my mom's geraniums."

Kyle was pretty coked up and drunk, and said, "Goddamn, still going on about the fucking geraniums!"

"Yeah, I'm still going on about the geraniums. You fucking killed them last time, and my mom was totally pissed. Fucking Kyle brings..." He paused for a second, and glanced quickly at me, and then immediately looked away before continuing, "...this chick, and he fucks her in the Jacuzzi."

In that brief moment, where he caught eyes with me, I knew it meant the chick had to be Rosemary.

"You're just pissed because the two girls from the club didn't show," Kyle clarified, "And I was able to call up my most reliable piece of ass and got some and you didn't."

"Fuck you, Kyle, I was pissed because I came out of the door, and I fucking see Kyle and this chick in the Jacuzzi––wait, they weren't really in the Jacuzzi, they were standing on the steps, and she was bent over with her hands on the concrete, and Kyle is just railing her from behind. And her ass is just about at water level, so he's making this huge wave of hot Jacuzzi water every time he bangs her ass. And by the time I came out, the fucking Jacuzzi is down a quarter, and there's mud and flowers washing down the side of our house. Really, what the fuck were you thinking, Kyle?"

"I was tsunami fucking her, dude, it was totally awesome. I was fucking drunk and then Stanz is all drunk and belligerent so I ease up on fucking some to let the mighty sea settle down again. Then he goes and gets a big wide broom, and goes to the river of water and mud, and I swear, I couldn't help myself, I just yelled surf's up, and slammed my dick in this bitch hard, and it sent the mother of all waves splashing over Stanz's feet. So he starts coming at me with the broom and we jumped out of the fucking Jacuzzi and ran. And then I start fucking her on the chaise lounge right over there, while Stanz is sweeping the mud back into the little garden. I was driving more meat into her than a delivery truck headed for Outback, and slapping her ass and just getting brutal on her, and fucking Stanz is right over there trying to pick the flowers out of the mud and plant them back in the garden. It was the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen, dude."

Kyle was laughing hysterically, most everyone was, and I just didn't know what to think. I honestly couldn't be certain if they were talking about Rosemary or not, and I was already doubting that the quick glance Stanz gave me meant anything at all. So while it was possible that it could have been Rosemary, I was more than likely just being paranoid and getting unusually jealous for nothing. I soon found myself laughing about it with everyone else, and realized that it didn't really matter one way or the other, because I'd soon be getting relief from all these feelings as I spanked her naughty ass silly.

The stripper showed up several hours later, and I was so drunk by then I couldn't get out of my chair. The rest of the room was out of control, and when she stepped into the center of everyone, it was as if a piece of raw meat had been hurled into the lions' cage. She did all the nasty things strippers do, and all the guys did all the nasty things guys at a bachelor party do. I had trouble seeing past everyone, but it actually looked to me like Emory, the bachelor, had gotten his dick wet. Even as drunk as I was, though, I found her to be far, far less than stunning, so the whole thing just kind of disturbed me.

Then, as things were settling down and she went around the room in an overcoat, collecting her clothes, I felt a hand sweep through my hair. I looked up, and there was Rosemary, my ride home. "You ready, sweets?" she asked.

Then I heard one of the guys, still fired up on stripper love, yell out, "Whoa, look! Round two! The show ain't over yet, boys!"

"Rosemary, yeah! Go Rosemary!"

"Take it off!"

"We want more tits!"

She smiled for all of them, and I thought, 'Fuck, my subs at a bachelor party, this could be bad,' and so I made myself sober up real quick. I got a glass of water and when I came back Stanz was talking to Rosemary, and Kyle and this other guy named Jordan were next to him. For some reason my jealousy was churning up in my stomach at the mere sight of Kyle and Rosemary standing so close.

Turns out the guys were too drunk to even consider driving themselves, and Stanz was trying to hook them up with a ride home, which Rosemary had already agreed to. I fell asleep in the front seat of the car, occasionally waking up when they screamed out laughing in the back. Kyle was still a bit amped up on coke and Jeremy probably was too. I could see Rosemary's face through barely open eyes, and she was laughing, even speaking occasionally, and it burned me up.

She should have been pissed. Only a few hours ago, that asshole might have told a whole group of guys how he'd fucked her in front of Stanz. And even if it wasn't her they were talking about, I knew of several other instances that were about her, and she should've had enough self respect to hate that fucker, not drive him around while they yapped and laughed. All this was spinning through my mind as I passed out.

When I woke up again, Rosemary was shaking me, we were parked next to a McDonalds, and she had a coke in her hand. I heard them eating in the back seat, and jerked my head around until I was fully awake. She offered me the coke, saying, "It's Sprite. You should have some. It'll help. You should have some French fries, too." She turned around, and asked the guys, "Can I have a few more fries." Soon I was being handed some greasy, droopy fries, and I ate them as best I could. "The guys weren't doing too well, so I thought I should get everybody a little food."

I remembered Kyle's phone call a few months back, and him telling me he ain't never tore up a pussy like he had Rosemary's, and how he would never be able to look her in the eye without thinking about that shit. So that's who he saw sitting in the front seat, the pussy he'd brutally bopped. Meanwhile, she was playing the fool and buying him food and making sure he felt all goodie, goodie, good. The nonjudgmental guy I'd so proudly been apparently couldn't survive all the alcohol I drank, and the anger I was feeling couldn't be cured by spanking her silly later that night, not this time. In fact, it was specifically because she was being such a sub in this situation that I was getting so pissed off.

I didn't feel any different about things the next day, or the day after that, and soon realized I had a big problem. It was one thing to have a submissive partner all to yourself, but something else to watch her get fucked over by the whole world.

I'd started to wonder what life would be like if I broke it off with Rosemary. I could stop hating my friends, for one thing, and I could find a nice girl who had no history and wasn't a basket-case. It sounded like such an easy life, free of the emotional rollercoaster ride I'd been living. I loved Rosemary, but wouldn't if I continued to lose respect for her. As I broke the crust on a microwaved, Marie Calendar's chicken pot pie with a spoon, pushing the flaky chunks into the vegetables, yellow gravy, and cubes of meat, and stirring it into an lumpy mess, I realized I'd already made up my mind, and was just thinking of a way to go through with it. Then the phone rang, and on the other end Rosemary cried, and I laid down my spoon and took the phone into the bedroom as I put on my shoes and shirt, and rushed to the front door.

It was Sage, she'd been in a car wreck, and after picking up Rosemary we headed for the hospital. Her mother was already there, a complete mess. They'd pronounced Sage dead on arrival.

The week that followed was tough, we spent a lot of time with Rosemary's mom, as Rosemary and I helped around the house, cooking and cleaning, while her mom arranged the funeral and notified the family. Rosemary also made a dress for her sister to be buried in, and while it was a beautiful idea, it was also really hard on Rosemary. She'd used a very conservative full length black dress, but added a velvet strip that wrapped around her chest and a second one around her waist. When Rosemary wasn't comforting her mom, I was at her place comforting her. She took a new liking to snuggling up close to me as we slept, and I stayed with her every night.

The first week turned into two, and then a month had past, and her mourning seemed to give her mildly Goth appearance real weight, and she embodied a sorrow that went clear to the bone.

The reasons I'd had for breaking it off with her didn't make sense to me anymore, and one night while having dinner at Kai Sushi on Sepulveda, she told me she had a dream where Sage had thanked her for the dress, and then held up a section of rope that was old, frayed, and about a foot long, and told Rosemary, "Sorry Rosie Poise, but I'm all out of rope."

Neither one of us really knew what to make of the dream, but she was happier than I'd seen her in a long time. She finished her whole meal, about seven pieces of a cream cheese veggie roll and a plate of vegetable tempura, also something I hadn't seen happen in awhile. Two days later, the owner of one of the second hand stores where Rosemary bought supplies called and asked if she'd be interested in supplying one-of-a-kind dresses for her new shop in West Hollywood. Rosemary grew ecstatic. A week later we found ourselves engaged.

I had a monumental surge of pride every time I'd introduce Rosemary to people as my fiancé. Our games in the bedroom had also resumed. In fact, we expanded our kinky horizon with a riding crop and a blindfold. I got promoted from a junior to a senior draftsperson in the architectural firm where I'd been working, which made me the youngest senior there. And then came our wedding, and while I hadn't intended on inviting Kyle, Stanz suggested I hire their band, or begged, actually. I told him I'd have to see how Rosemary felt about handing Kyle a microphone on our wedding day.

They were no longer the ska/rockabilly outfit they used to be. They'd pretty much given up the dream of being rock stars, and just played covers for the occasional party or bar booking, so we could actually request the songs they were going to play, and this wouldn't be the first wedding gig they'd had.

When I talked it over with Rosemary she didn't have much to say. "This is Kyle's band," I explained, "I wasn't even going to invite him, and now he's going to be there in a big way, are you sure this is okay?" But I couldn't get her to say no, the look of obedience was in her reddish-brown eyes, and she was relying on me to turn the question into a demand, but I couldn't do that, not regarding her wedding, not for the biggest day of her life, but she wouldn't say no, and so, a little angry, I finally declared, "Fine. It's not like it's going to hurt anything. We'll have him play." She was happy I'd made a decision, and was apologetic for being weak, and I ended up spanking her with the riding crop for it, and fucked her in a way that caused our headboard to drum the wall.

Our wedding took place in November, and held in a humble little dance hall out in Ontario. Everything went smooth as clockwork. Rosemary and I danced to Kyle and Stanz's band, and we exchanged glances that were all our own, just pure love, and I felt that even Kyle was happy for us, smiling on stage, singing with sensitive, shut eyes, and his head hunched towards the mic, like he was kissing a young girl. It wasn't until after they'd finished the first set and a DJ took over, and I spied Kyle and Rosemary talking, that I felt a weird array of emotions at my very own wedding.

She'd kissed him, just a peck on the cheek in what I could only assume was a thank you, and then he hugged her back, and kept one arm around her afterwards. He whispered something into her ear, and I excused myself from talking with Rosemary's uncle, and went over to where they were. When I got there, Kyle pulled me to him with his other arm, so he was between us, and said, "Dude, congratulations, man. You did it, that's fucking awesome." Then he got excited and said, "Hey, I want you to meet someone. He dragged us both to one of the tables, where Stanz was sitting there with two girls, and Kyle said, "This is Jamie, my fiancé." I saw the same pride welling up in him that I'd felt over the past year introducing Rosemary as mine. "I'm doing it too, man. Can you believe that shit?" His fiancé looked like a sweet girl, very pretty, and far, far away from being a basket-case.

He was still between Rosemary and me, with an arm around us both, and we shook hands with Jamie and said hello. Then Jamie said, as she fumbled though her purse, "We're sending out invitations in a couple of months, so let me get your address, because Kyle and Stanz are both too stupid to know anyone's address."