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From: Hammon Wry <Hammonwry@SPAMTRAPyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Learning her: part 3
Date: Fri,  6 Dec 2002 23:10:04 -0500
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Learning her, part 3

(C) E. Howe  2002
All rights reserved

I grinned at her master, and he looked at me with those eyes of his.
I could see the twinkle in them, the humor evident there.  I began to 
wonder just what he was thinking, and why he sat so still.   His face 
was unreadable, as usual.  Had I imagined his mirth? 

The slave made a noise.  Just a little noise, but one that broke my 
interest in the man observing, and renewed my scrutiny of her.   His 
eyes flicked beyond me, and then returned to me.  I turned to see her 
bent still, her hands behind and opening her slit.  

Where was I?  Oh yes.  Her slit.  She showed every evidence of 
arousal, the pouting lips, the aroma, the wetness.  Truly lovely.  But
more lovely still and precious to me were her tears.  She had begun 
crying, and that was the source of the sound I'd heard behind me.
Tears dripped from her face to the carpet.  

I felt my face flush, the heat expand from my core, and my breath
catch in my through.     Tears, tears this early in the game?  She
must be new, still.  She must be still leaning her place, learning her
role.  Tears, but not a word out of her.  That should have warned me,
dear friends, but I was too caught up in her tears to notice at the
time. 

I stood in shock, reeling from the sight before me.  This lovely
woman, anonymous, naked, and vulnerable weeping her heart out on my
carpet.  Only one thing could make this better.  

I reached out, grasped her hair again, and raised her face to mine.  
Immediately, she thrashed, letting go of her sex.  She tried to back 
away, and could not, so she sank to her knees again.  With a jerk, she
twisted out of my grasp, and tried to back away on all fours.  

Yes!  A fighter, a runner, that is what she is.  My heart sang out.  I
would enjoy the hunt, I'd follow her to ground, and then, oh, then I'd
take her hard, and make her pleasure me...

I followed her, cornered her by the door.  Her back against the wall,
she looked left, then right.  I gave her room to flee.  I wanted to
give chase.  

She bolted.  Amazing how quick a human can be on all fours, but let's 
not mince words.  A few quick strides and I was along side her, and 
slapping her ass, my fingers tucked into her collar to hold her.  She 
strained against that collar so hard, I feared damage to her windpipe.
It would not due to damage her Master's property.  I released, and she
bolted once again.  I followed at a leisurely pace this time.   She
had no where to go.   The afternoon sun shown through the trees
outside the window, cashing dappled shadows on the curtains.  The
light was good.  I watched her circle, her eyes on me, moving all the
while.   She whimpered, and the tears still fell from her eyes.  

How I love the hunt.  I love the stalking of the prey, the seduction.
I love the heaving flanks, the disheveled hair, the wild look in the
eyes.  I do not care to hunt animals.  I hunt a slave's submission.
I've hear tales of hunts that lasted hours, the hunter tracking the
stag, running him to ground, and finally, the stag at the end steps
into the clear, positions itself for the perfect shot, and then stares
the hunter in the eye.  

"I am here.  I surrender.  Give me release, and I am yours. "

I murmur to my prey, soft words, gentle words, words to seduce, to 
entice.  She stops, and puts her hands to her ears, and weeps.  I 
approach, knowing that she will bolt.  I let her.  

Back and forth across the room, I walk her down, and her furtive 
movements become less frantic.  Finally, she stops.  Finally, she sits
as at the beginning, kneeling before me.  But this time, there is a
subtle difference, something about her entire posture says, "I
surrender.  I am yours".  

I step up to her, and once more grasp her hair, and pull her forward 
gently.  She follows the arc of my tug, and hips rising, she dips her 
head to the floor, like the faithful Muslim at prayer.  The whole 
encounter lasted maybe 15 minutes.  

I turned to her Master.  "Did she give you this much of a chase?"

His laughter caught me off guard.  "No, not at all.  Nor, I think the 
master that had her before me.  He glanced at his gold pocket watch.  
"18 minutes.  I think, Helena, she was baffled by your examination of 
her.  Normally, it takes her about 10 minutes. " 

"10 minutes?  For what?"
"Helena, forgive me.  Old friend, I've found an especially rare slave.
She's an empath."

I'd heard of those.  The often knew the Dom/me better than the 
Dom/me themselves.  I smiled.  "You know, if you had wanted to know 
my particular penchants, you could have asked!"
He chuckled again.  "And missed this display?  Never!  Now, will you 
forgive me?"
"I suppose I shall eventually.  At a price."
He raised his eyebrows.  "How much do you ask?"
I looked to the slave at my feet, her ass up, head down.  
"First, what did she find in you?  And second, leave her with me for
the night.  I want to take out my frustrations on her."
"Helena, a man's got to have some secrets.  Two nights and no
telling."
"Make it three.  I deserve reward for making her last 18 minutes."
"Done and done!"
He rose to go, and I slipped my arm through his to guide him out.  "I 
think, my friend, that we have made an excellent bargain.  I shall
have her returned to you in no worse shape. "

I kissed him good bye on the cheek, and then returned to the slave.
She still was in the same position.  
"Well, my dear, it seems you will be mine for the next three days.
Let's see if you can fathom my other needs?"

She looked up at me, and I opened my face to her.  She nodded, once 
only.  Still gazing at me, she stood, and walked toward me, her bare 
feet soundless on the carpet.  Silently still, she reached behind me, 
grasped the fastenings of my hair, and released the dark mass.  

I could smell the scent of the castille soap I'd used to wash my hair
as it tumbled down to my hips.   She ran her hands through it, and the
slowly, gently grasped it in her hands.  She brought my face to hers, 
and kissed me full on my mouth.  She releases my mouth, and drew me 
downward by my hair to my knees.  I heard myself murmur "Yes. 
Yes."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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