Kristin Continued Ch. 04

"Did you have a nice dream?" Aisha blinked and looked around for the source of the words. "Good thing you were buckled in. You would have thrown yourself right out of your seat!"

Reality. "Uh, Miss Rose— I'm sorry, um, did you ask me a question?"

"It's OK, Dear. We have landed. Get your breathing under control. We have a short ride home. And get your hand out of the cookie jar." Aisha's hand flew up, bringing her intimate smell to her face and triggering a recollection of what had happened in her sleep. She glanced at Rose, expecting a reprimand.

"We can't control our dreams, Aisha. I have to say it was fascinating to watch you bring one off in your sleep. You're not going to forget what I said before, though, are you?"

"No, Miss Rose, I won't." A quick peek out of the window showed huge mountains in the distance. They were not in a city and probably not in the U. S. She followed her owner down the steps and into a jeep-like truck spattered with mud.

"Put this hood on. You are not to know where we are. Some day, you might realize that this was for your protection as well as mine." The paved road soon gave way to a bumpy dirt road that seemed to travel straight uphill. Aisha rocked forward and back with the constant and loud shifting and grinding of gears.

She thought, We're in mountains. Canada? No, it's not very cold here. Mexico? Yes, maybe Mexico or one of those little countries. Costa Rica? After an hour, the jarring ride halted. Rose guided her into a house.

"Hola, Senora!" The voice seemed to be from a young woman. A rapid exchange in Spanish followed. I don't understand a word, but I guess this rules Canada out for sure.

Rose led her through a door and pulled the hood off. "This is your room. You can relax somewhat in here. You are to get a shower and take care of your needs." She picked up a bright yellow flowered dress. Aisha had always known them as "Mexican dresses." There were several in a clothes rack by the bed. "This is what you will wear outside this room. Nothing else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Rose."

"Good. I will be back in an hour. We will eat and have a talk about my high expectations for you. When I enter the room, you will kneel as you did on the plane."

The shower, with seemingly unlimited hot water, diverted her attention from her plight for a short time. Though it was her favorite place to touch herself, Aisha refrained, knowing that Rose would somehow find out. She found toothpaste and a hairbrush, but no makeup.

Swiftly kneeling as Rose breezed through the door, Aisha glanced at the position of the mid-thigh dress as it rode up. The sight prompted thoughts of her mother's oft-repeated scold — I can see almost all the way to Gowanda!

Rose snapped her fingers. "Follow exactly three steps behind and remember to walk with grace." They arrived at a table already arrayed with food. Rose pointed at a cushion on the floor. Aisha recalled serving dinner at the Boss's table and having to humble herself on a cushion. "I will feed you. When I reach over you will tilt your head and open your mouth like a baby bird. You will then chew and swallow with your mouth closed, like a lady."

The first forked morsel came as a surprise. It was a bite of chicken dipped in a coconut batter. Buttered broccoli followed. The delicious food provided a respite from the drama of the day. After a few bites, Rose began the promised conversation. "Have you thought about my question?"

"Yes, Miss Rose. It's hard to put into words. Part of it is just being touched down there. The worst was when they forced me to get on all fours. I was so embarrassed, but they knew just what to do. I — I couldn't help..."

"I know. I've been there myself. What else?"

Um, one of the women asked me if I got turned on being naked in front of a dressed man. I had to agree. I never knew that before I was taken."

"Thank you, Aisha. I know that was difficult. Here, have some water. Let's finish our food, and I'll tell you about me." Chocolate Mousse capped the meal. "Relax, Dear. Put your legs to the side.

"Aisha, every person on Earth has unique sexual appetites. No one is just 'gay' or 'straight,' 'dominant' or 'submissive.' We are all on a continuum. Multiple continuums in fact. Most people suppress their proclivities to conform to other people's expectations.

"A psychologist friend told me that he sees women in their seventies who are just realizing, too late, that their lives have been a tragic fraud. Not me. I am thirty-five and I've come to realize that I have a fetish. I crave command and control over other people. Mostly women, but I have had a few hombres en mi casa as well.

"You have performed beautifully today, better than any new slave I have seen. I am so turned on that I can't wait any longer. Go to your room and clean up a bit, then return here."

In a short time, Aisha came back to find Rose standing in front of a recliner. As she knelt, her Mistress related explicit instructions: "...and, at a certain point, I will tell you to leave. Go quickly. You are free 'til morning. Do you understand what I mean by 'free?'"

It took a moment. "Oh! Yes, Miss Rose."

"Begin." Aisha stood up and began slowly undressing her Mistress, carefully folding each article and lining up each garment on a low table. As instructed, she was careful not to touch Rose's skin. A familiar female aroma reached her nose. The first act concluded as she rolled up the stockings and placed them inside the precisely parallel shoes.

Rose, beginning to breathe in a rasp, sank into the chair, snapping her fingers.

Aisha undid three embroidered buttons and slowly let her own dress fall. Naked, she raised her arms overhead and did a slow pirouette. She noticed Rose's hands roaming up and down her body. Aisha went into a slow-motion transition to a full, open kneel. She held her exposed body stock still, waiting for one final finger snap.

Hearing it, she bowed down in worship, using her hands to arrange her hair in a flat circle on the floor. Waiting. Motionless.

"Good. Get out." Aisha scampered toward the door, hearing low moans behind her. Halfway to her room, she realized that her dress was still back on the floor. Can't go back now. Keep going. In the quiet, she trembled from the tension and erotic stimulation of her performance. Heading for her favorite location, she thought, My turn.

"Ahh!" Hot, steamy, soapy bliss. As she humped her hand, she thought, This is my only escape. "Mmmm."

Morning broke, not with sunlight, but with the rattle of the door as Rose burst in. "Rise and shine, Dear. I want you to take a position that I saw in your résumé. 'Stack.' Do you remember?"

The sleep fog slowly lifted. "Yes, Miss Rose." Stifling a yawn, she moved to all fours in the rigid pose from pet play. Head up, arms and legs planted at an angle. Hold.

"Very good. I have a show dog back in my summer home, a white Alaskan Husky, and another great dog, a Black Mouth Cur. I call them 'Tracy and Hepburn.' They would be with me, but it's hard to bring dogs across the border. As you might imagine, I require strict obedience from them. I can easily hand stack Trace. Hep is a hot mess, but I love her.

"I have never heard of stacking with human pets. I like it." She began stroking her back. "I have seen a couple of fascinating videos of you from back there. You are quite the female animal!" A fierce blush appeared on Aisha's face and moved across her chest. She looked down at the bed. "No, no, head up. Looked to me like you enjoyed being someone's little puppy. You weren't faking it, were you?"

Aisha brought her red face up, already sobbing. "I— uh— no, Miss, uh, Rose. I couldn't h—help it."

"Yes, I can see that. We'll have to try a little pet play later, but now, you're going to fix breakfast." With a playful slap on a bare behind, Rose set out for the door. "Put on a new dress. I'll see you in the kitchen in 15 minutes."

After a hurried "platonic" shower, Aisha appeared in a verdant green dress embroidered with large red poppies. "Let's keep it simple this morning. You will find everything in the refrigerator. Scramble four eggs with butter and a little milk, and fry up six sausage patties. Bring the grapefruit juice. Can you handle this? You're not one of those hippie vegetarians, are you?"

"No, Miss Rose. I can do it." Aisha brightened at the prospect of actually having something to do. Breaking eggs, flipping patties. Maybe I can be her cook?

She served the food on a tray and took a place on the cushion. Between baby bird bites, Rose noticed a slight smile. "Are you just enjoying your own cooking, or is there something else on your mind?"

"Um, Miss Rose, I was just wondering if you were going to have, you know, work for me, like cooking or cleaning. I enjoyed making breakfast."

"My Dear, I have a cleaning staff, though you might not ever see them. You are welcome to cook breakfast and lunch during your time here. But your main job is to be, as the French say, 'séduisante,' that is, desirable and arousing. Even when you are preparing food, you are to stand and move in an inviting way.

"To use your earlier word, be 'enticing.' You might think of cooking as a hobby. Your full-time job is Miss Rose's devoted slave. Do you understand?"

Aisha had to look away. She choked out, "Yes, Miss Rose."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Over the next three weeks, Aisha learned to prepare a limited range of dishes with the few staples available in the area: tortillas, eggs, chicken, rice, and meat that was called "bistec." And beans. Lots of beans. Each morning she would set a pot of beans to boil.

Around every third day, she would perform a carefully choreographed performance for her Mistress, always without any physical contact. As Rose found her release, Aisha would flee to her room to seek her own.

Between cooking, the erotic dramas, and her personal "freedom," Aisha's life was largely free of the abject humiliation of her training days. Each appearance before her mistress became more complicated and strenuous, but her dire fears of beatings and rape faded.

One evening, Rose gave her a skimpy bra and panty set. "You will need a little protection for the scene I have planned. Put your hair in a ponytail."

As she walked into the room, she noticed a single light in the ceiling, making a bright, three-foot circle on the carpet. In a dark corner, a man sat in a chair. "Please remove your dress and sit cross-legged in the circle." Rose knelt on the floor behind her. "Aisha, have you ever been tied up?"

"Uh, No, I don't th—think so, Miss Rose."

"I have been studying rope bondage with my teacher here, Mr. Chin. He is going to supervise and grade me on a tie that I have created. He is also watching out for your safety. If you feel pain or distress at any time, you are to say, "Please." I will stop immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Rose. I will say, 'Please.'"

Rose started with a soft cord, making multiple windings around wrists and ankles, leaving a small loop on the inside of each limb. She formed a waist cinch and ran a crisscross up between the breasts and down the back.

Next, she attached a red ribbon from Aisha's ponytail to the waist belt, forcing her head upright. She looked directly into Aisha's eyes, looking for signs of stress. Crossing her wrists and tying them to the opposite ankle rendered Aisha completely immobile.

Rose glanced at her teacher and held up a thinner cord, her final embellishment. Aisha's feet were flat against each other as she wove the twine through her toes, "sewing" them together. She rocked Aisha to her back. Her knees now pointed to the ceiling, displaying her tie to Mr. Chin. Rose bowed to him. Without a word, he circled the two humbled bodies and left the room.

This time, Aisha could not leave as Rose grunted and gasped through her climax. After a time, she began gently untying the bonds. She offered a water bottle as she rubbed the contact areas. "Come with me." They slowly walked back to Aisha's bed where she began a full body massage, scalp to toes. "You did very well, Dear. Mr. Chin is a man of few words, but I could see his arousal as he left. Always a good sign." She undid the bra and slowly peeled the panties down. Without thinking, Aisha spread her legs a bit.

Rose moved her fingers near the newly available spot. "I can leave you alone now..." Aisha felt light pressure on her slit. "... or I can show my gratitude..."

"Yes, please, Miss mmm, Ro...ahhh." Fleeting thoughts of embarrassment faded as Aisha pumped her hips on Rose's hand. Images of Anika pleasuring her in the shower brought about an intense orgasm, as Aisha burst into tears, first of pleasure and then in anguish at the loss of her friend, her freedom, and her future.

Rose held her tightly as loud bawling slowed to fitful sobbing and finally into sleep.

The next morning brought a pleasant change as her Mistress brought breakfast tacos and coffee to Aisha's bedside. Startled and realizing she had slept in, Aisha moved to get into position. "Relax, Dear. You earned a little extra sleep today. You had a long, hard cry last night and that usually helps. Are you feeling better?"

"Um, I think so, Miss Rose. I've never slept that hard before."

"Here, slip this dress on and eat your breakfast. Get cleaned up and pack extra clothing and a toothbrush. We're going on a trip. I'll come for you in an hour." Rose paused at the door. "And don't worry yourself. There is nothing wrong, OK?"

"Yes, Miss Rose. Thank you."

Later, in the truck, Rose brought out a blindfold, more of a sleeping mask. "The day will come when you thank me for keeping our location secret. We have a three-hour trip with a pit stop or two. When we get off the mountain and on the main road, you can take it off."

The jarring, rutted road gave way to a relatively smooth surface. Rose removed the mask. Aisha glanced around, seeing nothing but distant mountains and sparse vegetation.

"Who am I?"

Startled, Aisha stumbled through her reply: "Um, you, Miss Rose, you are my Mistress?"

"Correct, I am your Mistress. Am I more than that?"

Aisha looked at the floor, hesitant to say the word. "You are my— my— owner."

Rose let the incomplete response go. "My dear girl, I am only your proxy owner. I told you once that I was on a mission to get you. For various reasons, a friend of mine could not attend the sale and asked me to stand in.

"Our time together was my reward for obtaining you. I'm terrible at long-term relationships, so this was perfect for me. I have a tendency to escalate with a girl, as you saw last night. I'm going to deliver you and start looking for a new guest. I hope she can cook!"

"Miss Rose, may I ask..."

"Where you're going? I can only tell you that I know your new patrón very well. I wouldn't have done this if I thought you would be mistreated. You are a valuable asset, and I will be checking on you from time to time."

Aisha had no response. They rode in silence until Rose replaced the mask. "We'll be there in an hour. Why don't you rest a while?" She pulled Aisha's head onto her shoulder.

Vibrations and mechanical noises brought Aisha to attention. The truck started and stopped, seemingly moving in a long line. She sensed different smells in the air. A loud, low horn sounded. We're on a car ferry! She had crossed Lake Michigan on a giant ferry several times. She could feel the shudders and the rolling motions.

Removing the mask again, Rose and her armed driver escorted Aisha to a cabin. "We have a 12-hour crossing. You are to remain in the cabin. One of us will be with you at all times. You need not fear Armando as he is a loyal and well-paid employee. I am going to find us some food.

"You are in transit now. I won't be requiring any services from you. You can use the furniture and relax as best you can."

Aisha sat on a couch facing the outside wall. She was expecting portholes, but there were large windows in the cabin. She saw the ever-present mountains to the right, and endless, white-tipped ocean in all other directions. Hundreds of seagulls wheeled around the ship. The whitecaps had a hypnotic effect, and as she lightly dozed, a vague thought formed: those beautiful white birds are free.

For the next two meals, Aisha sat in an actual chair and fed herself while they made small talk about travel. At nightfall, Armando slept on a mat in front of the door, while Aisha stretched out on the couch. Rose woke her up before sunrise. The full Moon nearly filled one of the windows.

They waited nearly an hour as the cars trickled down a ramp and onto land. The mask blinded Aisha once again, just as she spotted many buildings fronting more brown mountains. "One more hour before you meet your real owner. I expect you to show complete deference and silence until you are told what is expected. Every owner is different, but all that you have been through in that school and with me should serve you well. Listen and learn, Dear. And take pleasure where and when you can."

A familiar uphill trek ended with a long gravel driveway. Aisha could hear the pops against the tires. Rose helped her out of the truck. In a moment they entered a doorway and started up a flight of stairs. She heard the whoosh of a sliding door and felt a warm breeze. We're on a patio or something.

A firm hand guided Aisha to a kneeling position. A quick squeeze reminded her to part her thighs. They waited long moments. Footsteps.

As Rose pulled the mask off, a voice:

"Hello, Darlin!"

****

Author's Note: I am grateful for the supportive comments and votes for this series. Hopefully, it is obvious where Kristin ended up. If I were speculating on Aisha's future, I would like to think that her Master, being new to the game, and kind-hearted in his own dark way, would proffer a deal. "Aisha, if you will offer yourself to me completely and passionately for two years, I will arrange for your freedom."

Readers— Many of you already have a slave story/fantasy in your head. Start writing it with Anika and Logan as your characters. Or perhaps you will deliver Ava to a Sultan or Adora to a private island! Will Mia's scheme succeed? I like to collaborate with co-authors. I already have two great ones— J Spe and Taliesin1, who write Julie and Three, respectively. We exchange ideas and edits in search of the elusive red 'H.'

Thanks again to Sarpedom for permission to take Kristin to the next level. I am still hoping he will write his own, probably much darker version.

—Carole