The biting cold of the February air chilled my cheeks and stung the tips of my ears as I walked across the frozen, crusted remains of snow on the sidewalk. I cut through the gap in the fence behind the Chinese grocery and made my way across the poorly-plowed parking lot. I dodged potholes and snow piles and the occasional puddle of slush until I finally reached the T stop. Standing still, the cold was even more brutal, so I snuggled farther down into my jacket and seriously regretted not wearing a hat.

“Spring is coming, bullshit!” I muttered under my breath as an unusually strong breeze whipped across my exposed face.

I scoured down at the train tracks and thought about the havoc this wind must be wreaking on my hair. But no matter how cold or how windy it was, I was warm on the inside.

“I get to see him today,” I thought to myself.

The screech of metal-on-metal signaled the approach of the train, and I was quite unceremoniously shoved aside by some small woman with an umbrella and an arm full of groceries.

“By all means ma’am,” I thought to myself as she shoved her way past three more passengers and found a seat with the accuracy of a sniper. I put on my best I-don’t-give-a-damn face and made my way to the back of the train car. I leaned against the back wall and smiled inwardly. Out of all these people staring at their phones or anything but the other passengers, none of them knew what was really going on.

Underneath my thick winter jacket, old t-shirt and dark jeans I had on my favorite corset and thong. I bought them on my study abroad in Amsterdam. The corset was completely sheer, the cups were cut very low and barely covered my nipples. A thin black satin ribbon held it together and the corset ended right at my ribs, leaving the rest of my flat-ish stomach exposed.

I laughed inwardly again and made a small smirk.

The train lurched forward and the creepy robotic voice told me the destination of this train and which stop was next. As I stared out the large windows at the scores of students hurrying around, I realized that if they met me, not one of them would suspect what was going to happen that weekend.

Normally, I am very high strung, and a bit of a control freak. I get my schoolwork in on time and I would never hand something in I’m not proud to put my name on. I’ve worked my way up to Vice President of a club, and I have no problems taking on authority roles, in fact, I’d rather be the one in control. With one exception: him.

As the train bounced and swayed along the tracks I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering, imagining the incredible pleasures that weekend was going to bring. When the train dipped underground into the subway tunnels, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the windows. “He is going to love this,” I thought to myself.

My hair was down and curly, and slightly untamed. For once I put on make-up, and it framed my eyes and highlighted my lips perfectly. I smiled again, devilishly this time, because for all he knows, I’m just dressed for a normal day and headed over to the commuter rail station to pick him up.

After switching trains, arriving at South Station, then climbing an ungodly amount of stairs, I finally made it to the main concourse.

South Station is an old building with vaulted ceilings and marbled floors, red and gold signage tells commuters where to buy tickets and what tracks are outside of what doors. I shoved my fists into the pocket of my jacket because compared to the relative warmth of the subway, the cavernous space didn’t retain much heat.

I waited impatiently and glanced up at the giant display board for all of the departing trains and made up stories for all of the people I saw around me.

Finally a group of people came swarming in through the far door. I scanned the crowd looking for that familiar face. I could spot his walk from a mile away and I smiled and waved energetically as he made his way over to me. Completely oblivious of the crowd around me, I threw my arms up around his neck and kissed him square on the lips. He held me tight and I pressed my cheek against the soft skin on his neck and smoothed my hands along the soft, faded leather of his jacket. It had been almost two months since I last saw him, my final semester at school and his new work schedule kept us from seeing much of each other.

“Hey baby,” I said into the collar of his jacket.

“Hey angel,” he replied into my hair.

I could already feel the tingles start between my thighs at the rumbling sound of his voice, and simply his proximity to me. We finally broke our embrace and made our way back down to the subway. The ride that normally takes about thirty-five minutes felt like forever. The whole way we held hands and smiled at each other and cast flirting glances back and forth. I even stole a few kisses in front of a train full of people, very unlike me.

After a trip that seemed to take forever, we finally arrived back at my apartment, and the fun could begin. My apartment was large for a college student, but at the price of having three other roommates. By sheer blessed luck all three were away that weekend; he and I had the apartment to ourselves.

The door hadn’t even closed before I had my arms wrapped around him and my lips were devouring his. He carefully placed his duffel bag on the floor without breaking the kiss before he wrapped both arms around me and held me as tight against him as he could. In a smooth motion he spun me around and pressed my back against the door as he dropped his head to kiss my neck. Long purring moans escaped my lips as he kissed under my jaw, down my neck to the crease of my shoulder, where he spent some time layering kisses and licks, drawing more purrs. I gasped when he pressed his teeth into my neck, not as hard as a bite, but hard enough for me to dig my nails into his arms and drag them along the soft leather of his jacket. He drew away smiling and leaned down to pick up his bag where he dropped it next to the door. He put his arm around my back and drew me to him for one more kiss before he wandered into the next room. I leaned my head back against the door and smiled. This was going to be a great weekend.

A few hours later we sat together on the couch, some crime show reruns played across the television screen and the remains of our pizza sat on the crooked coffee table. I “casually” slid the tips of my fingers up his thigh and back down to his knee. Up and down I trailed my fingers, each time getting a little closer to the slight bulge in his thick denim jeans.

When I finally laid my hand across the right spot, he sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. I stroked him up and down, occasionally applying more pressure as I felt him stiffen and twitch under the tough material. As I reached for the button of his jeans he caught my wrist in a strong grip and growled.

“Did I say you could do that yet?”

I shook my head and looked down, right at the crotch of his jeans where I could see the material starting to pull tight.

“Excuse me?” he growled again, his voice taking on a much deeper, more commanding tone. The tone he knew would make my heart skip a beat and dampen my panties.

“I- I mean, no Sir,” I stammered, dropping my gaze to the hideous pattern of the couch cushions.

“Good girl.”

Ah, my favorite phrase. That damp spot in my panties got a little damper with those two simple words.

He placed two fingers on the side of my jaw and let his lips touch mine very, very softly. I leaned into him and pressed my lips more firmly against his. In one swift motion he grabbed me by the jaw, and leaned back, a very familiar fire danced in his deep brown eyes as he stared down at me. I looked back at him with the most innocent, coy look that I could muster, but we both knew I did that on purpose. And it worked, a little better than I expected.

He took the hand that was on my jaw and placed it very carefully around my neck, pressing firmly, just hard enough to feel the pressure as he pushed me back against the couch and leaned over me. His shoulders blocked the light from the windows at the far end of the room, and I looked up into those endless brown eyes. Eyes dark with passion and getting darker as his well-hidden commanding side started to come out. He was my polar opposite. He is normally fairly shy and quiet, with only one or two very close friends. But when he was with me, all bets were off.

I got so lost in his eyes that I completely missed whatever he had said. Not good. I shook my head slightly, telling myself to focus.

“What?” I asked stupidly.

He frowned. He knew I had a bad habit of not listening well enough. But it wasn’t completely my fault. He’s so beautiful that it’s hard to focus on anything else sometimes. He tightened his grip on my throat slightly to make sure I was paying full attention this time.

“You do nothing unless I order you to. You do not cum unless I order you to. You may ask for whatever you want, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give it to you. You’ll have to be a good girl for that.”

Beneath his had, I squeaked. He knew just what to say to turn me from a frisky lover into an obedient pet. A very wet, obedient pet.

“Have I made myself clear?” His voice rumbled from his chest, and that alone was enough to make me melt, but combine that with the dark lust in his eyes and the way he stood over me, I was absolute putty in his hands.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good.”

Keeping one hand on my throat, he took the other and placed it on my breast. The sheer material of my corset under my shirt scraped against my hardened nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure all the way down to my pussy. He kneaded and tweaked and toyed with my breast until I was panting for more. He took his hand from around my throat and placed it on my other breast. He tweaked both nipples at the same time and it felt like connecting a circuit, and a thick, dense bolt of pleasure zipped between both my nipples and directly down to my clit. Again and again he teased my nipples, making me moan and squirm to the point where he had to squeeze his knees together to keep my hips in place. I reached for the hem of my shirt, hoping to pull it up more so he could have better access to my sensitive little buds, but he squeezed one nipple hard and gave me a simple command.

“No.”

I squeaked and reluctantly placed my hand back down at my side as he continued his pleasurable assault on my breasts. I let out a high-pitched, meowing, moan as he began kissing my neck. I was starting to lose touch with the world, where I was, what was happening, I was beginning to lose myself in the feeling of his hands and his lips against me.

And he knew it. What started as short gasps and sighs turned into one long moan. He suddenly drew back, breaking contact and snapping me out of my blissful little dreamland. I looked up at him in shock, and all he did was smile a knowing, cruel smile.

“Go get my bag,” he ordered.

I leapt up off that couch faster than if it had been on fire, and nearly crashed into the wall in my haste to make it around the corner to my room where he had dropped his bag. As I looked around the small room, I couldn’t find the bag! I checked under the bed, in the closet, even in some of my dresser drawers. Shit! I couldn’t believe I couldn’t find his bag! It’s pretty hard to misplace a black leather duffel bag, but apparently I did. I bounded down the hall to check my tiny kitchen, wondering if he brought it in there for some insane reason. Nope. I was starting to panic a little, so I ran back to my room one more time, hoping it would magically appear, but still no such luck.

I crept back into the living room, and stood in front of him, staring down at the floor as I told him I couldn’t find it. He chuckled at the apologetic tone of my voice and the way I hunched my shoulders in disappointment. He raised one hand and pointed to the far side of the couch, where I could just see the end of his duffel bag peeking out behind the ugly patterned sofa. Dammit. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I walked over to pick up the bag. As I bent down to pick it up, I felt his hands on my hips and his hard-on pressing against the crease of my ass. As I straightened up with his duffel in hand, he leaned in close and whispered huskily in my ear.

“I know what you’re wearing under this.” My cheeks nervously flushed even more. “And I love it.”

I sighed in relief. My goal was to tease him and make him want me, and judging by the bulge pressing against my ass cheeks, I think I succeeded.

He slipped his hand under the hem of my shirt and up the exposed skin of my stomach to where the sheer lace hugged my body. He slid his hand over the black material until his fingers found my nipple, barely covered and standing full and hard. The corset allowed a little extra friction when he ran his fingers back and forth across my nipples. My previously damp panties were now completely soaked.

He drew away just in time as my fingers were loosening around the straps of the duffel bag and it was about to fall out of my hand. He held out one hand beside me and I passed off the duffel, waiting for whatever fun things he had planned.

“Stay completely still,” he whispered in my ear.

Then I heard the harsh grate of a zipper and the soft rustle of leather and cloth. Something cool and soft swept across my eyes as he pulled my favorite scarf tight around my head and tied it off. Better than any store-bought blindfold, this scarf blocked out all light, and it was soft and comfortable too.

Without sight, I could hear clothes and plastic and metal being shoved around as he rifled through the duffel bag for something. At the sound of a tiny metallic tinkling sound I knew exactly what he was searching for. I couldn’t help the rush of moisture between my thighs as I heard him come closer. I felt the cool, familiar piece of leather slide across my neck and I lifted my long hair to allow him buckle my collar around my neck. The 1-inch piece of black leather fit my neck perfectly, not tight enough to cut off air, but not loose enough for me to forget I’m wearing it.

He bought it for me as a Christmas present, blood red stitching stood out on the black background, and small silver studs spelled out my name along one side. This was his mark, an outward sign of our inner love and devotion to each other. A sign of how much we’ve changed, and how much we are still the same. We met when I was sixteen, and if I ever tried to tell sixteen-year-old me the kinds of things I would be doing at 21, sixteen-year-old me would probably drop dead.

With my collar now secured around my neck, I knew it wasn’t time for games anymore, at least, not my games. With my collar on, no more disobedience, no more pushing boundaries, whatever little bit of control I had left was gone. He trailed his fingers along my neck, just above the edge of the collar and I shivered.

A stray thought wafted through my mind: I trust him. Not just an I’ll-tell-you-secrets-because-you-won’t-tell-anyone kind of trust, or an I-know-I-can-call-him-any-time-and-he’ll-be-there kind of trust. It was the kind of trust that allows a control freak to give up every scrap of control and leave herself vulnerable in the hands of her lover. That kind of trust does not come easily, but six years and every bit of teenage angst and awkward changes brought us to this point.

After trailing his fingers along my neck, he reached down to the hem of my old t-shirt and tugged on it, his non-verbal command to take it off. I yanked my shirt up over my head, being careful not to take the blindfold off with it, and tossed my shirt somewhere across the room. The cool air drew goosebumps along my skin and an appreciative chuckle from him. His hands were all over me again, sliding over skin, teasing sensitive spots, and I leaned my head back against his shoulder in ecstasy. It was one of those moments our height difference was perfect. I could lean my head back against his chest and he could rest one cheek on my hair and look down along the sloping curves of my body.

He slid his hand down the front of my jeans and pressed the thin material of my thong against my wet folds. I gasped, reveling in the feeling of his hands on me, and the ache between my thighs tripled with that one touch. It took all my willpower not to grind my hips against his hand, and he knew it. I didn’t have to see to know he was smiling.

He withdrew his hand, teased his fingers along the edge of my panties, and traced the ridge of my hip making my knees start to wobble. Before I even realized what was happening, my jeans hit the floor in a small puddle around my ankles. He came around in front of me and dropped to his knees. I could feel the heat of his breath against my thighs as he leaned in to get a full whiff of my arousal. He gently lifted one ankle, making sure to put my hand on his shoulder for balance, while he lifted my foot out of my jeans. With my ankle still raised, he placed gentle kisses from my ankle, up my calf, outside my knee, and finally up my thigh. I sucked in my breath as he got closer to my aching sex, but just before he reached the spot where my thighs connected, he gently lowered my leg to the floor.

He repeated this sensual little dance with my other leg. It was starting to get very taxing not to grab him by the hair and shove his face between my legs. But somehow I resisted. He ran his finger over the soaked material of my thong and said…something. I was so enthralled by the feeling of his finger along my most sensitive area that I didn’t even hear the words he said. All that registered in my mind was a deep-voiced rumbling that sounded somewhat appraising. At least, I assume it was appraising, because he leaned in and put his mouth right over my clit and I couldn’t help but cry out. The high pitched gasp echoed in the quiet apartment and he had to reach up and steady me to keep my knees from buckling under me.

“Shhhhh,” he reminded with a wolfish grin that I couldn’t see but I would bet money that he was wearing.

Damn him. He knew quiet is not something I’m very good at. Ever. But like a good little pet I obeyed as best I could. Thank goodness he didn’t consider gasps and sighs as noise or else I’d be in huge trouble. He flicked his tongue again and again, adding more moisture to my already soaked panties. Each and every swipe of his tongue across my exceptionally sensitive clit made my legs twitch and it was harder and harder to stay standing. I could feel my muscles starting to tighten and coil as the heat started to build between my thighs.

As I started to sway slightly in my effort to stay upright, he stood and placed both hands on my cheeks and pulled me in for a kiss. Our tongues tangled and danced. I could feel his cock straining against his jeans and I wished so badly I could grind against him.

He stepped back from me for a moment and tugged on the tiny little bow string that held my corset together. As the knot came undone, two little tugs freed the satin ribbon from the corset loops, and the beautiful piece of lingerie hit the floor.

He could never resist my breasts and leaned over to take each nipple into his mouth in turn. The warmth of his mouth contrasted with the cold air and the circuit that connected my nipples with my pussy went into overdrive. I heard a sharp jingling sound, and it took a long moment to realize it was the sound of a metal chain.

I didn’t even have time to think about why it was in his pocket before he clipped the chain securely to the ring on the front of my collar. He wound the thick chain around his hand and tugged it sharply toward the floor. I let the collar press into the back of my neck for a moment before I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. I’m not sure if he even meant to say it aloud, but he ran one hand over my hair and leaned in to tighten the scarf that had started to come loose over my eyes. “Open.”

I did as commanded and opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out slightly.

I heard the grate of the fly of his jeans and my mouth watered in anticipation. As soon as I felt the soft skin touch my lips, I started licking. I licked the sweet, sticky precum from his tip and licked and kissed as much as I could reach, daring even to lean forward a little to take him into my mouth.

I felt the heavy metal chain slacken and swing between my breasts, and I took that as my chance. I lurched forward and took as much of him into my mouth as I could, not particularly caring if it would get me in trouble, I just had to taste him. Judging by the harsh gasp and shuddering sigh, I think I made a pretty good call. I bobbed back and forth, taking a little more of him each time. When I knew I was ready, I reached up and grabbed his hips and pulled his cock as deep into my mouth as I possibly could, his tip gently bumping the back of my throat.

I was rewarded with a deep groan I could feel, and he reached down to grip my shoulder. I held him like that until my lungs started to burn for air. I pulled back, taking in as much air as I could while still keeping him in my mouth. It was certainly daring of me to be so forceful with my master, but I was beyond caring. So I dug my fingers into his ass cheeks and pulled him all the way back into my throat. He groaned deeply again. Only this time as I pulled back for air, he pulled upwards on the chain and stepped back out of my reach. I smiled up at him, partially unashamed, partially hoping he would give me a little punishment.