Read The Secret Journey for Free Online Page A

the strain of my cock against the
denim of my jeans proves the deeply sexual nature of the act. It’s
necessary though, and bonding - the foundation for the structure
we're going to build. What shape that will take is an open question
right now, but our future stretches beyond this moment, this night,
and because of that we must play out this duet to its finale. And
there is a moment when she hangs there, the silence punctuated only
by the steady slap of leather on flesh, and then it comes, her face
relaxes from resistance to acceptance, her lips parting, her eyes
growing heavy lidded. Ever so slightly she arches her back,
presenting herself now, opening herself.
    She wants to be fucked, she's so ready, slick
hot, reduced to her cunt and its need to be filled. I continue the
rhythm, continue the tempo - she'd take it right now anywhere she
could get it, in her mouth, in her ass, if that's what I wanted.
She's achingly empty and yearns to be filled, overflowed with my
lust. She's rocking her hips, gasping for air. She needs it and so
do I, my cock filled to bursting, rigid now, and heavy, as eager to
fuck her, to take her, to make her, as she is to have it
happen.
    Without even trying I'm spanking her harder,
the slaps sound like gunshots in the confined space. There's
nothing I want more than to impale her, hear her scream as I drive
deep inside, to conquer her, over and over again, make her beg for
it until she can't even speak. There's nothing I want more than to
empty myself into her, flood her cervix and womb and body and soul
with everything I have, everything I am.
    But I can't, and I stop, take a long moment
to steady myself, lost as I am in the drug that she is. She's
different, this one. I want more from her than I can say, more than
I have from all others who've crossed my life before her. Is it
only because she has so much more to give? And if I'm to have her,
have her completely as she completes me, she must learn who I am,
who she is, how we fit each other as no others do. Ride a horse too
soon and you'll spoil it. I knew her potential the moment I saw
her. She doesn't know - not all of it, not yet, but she will very
soon, because I'm going to show her.
    So I take off my gloves, and slide down her
panties to join her jeans around her ankles, and revel a moment in
the heat of her ass. Her cunt glistens, swollen and sticky, and I
slide a finger into her, feel her arch back and moan. She’s ready,
so ready, and I slide the finger out and up again to her anus,
slide it in, hear her gasp, it’s so degrading for her to be used
like this, probed and inspected like this, but she needs it and so
I’m giving it to her. I hold it in her and she humps back,
humiliating herself further in her heat. She wishes it was my cock
violating her like that, and one night it will be, but not tonight.
No, not tonight, and I slide my finger out of her again and she
moans in frustration.
    On the wall is a harness made not for a horse
but for a woman, bit and bridle of leather and rubber coated steel.
I take it down while her eyes follow me, bring it to her. Her lips
part automatically and I slide the bit between her teeth, pull her
hair through the leather straps, cinch it tight. It’s uncomfortable
and she instinctively tries to expel it, but of course it doesn’t
move. The collar is next, thick leather with a steel ring in the
front to take a leash. She doesn’t struggle, doesn’t protest, just
accepts it as I lock it around her neck. She'll take a leash
tonight. She'll take much more. Her lesson is about to begin.
    I stand her up and look at her. Her shirt is
pretty, a white cotton blouse and I tear it open, buttons popping
to fly around the room. Her nipples are just that hard, popping
little buttons, painfully stiff and I indulge myself with her
teats, pert and firm, upstanding little mounds, weighing them,
squeezing them. I twist her nipples hard, watch her eyes as it gets
painful. She pleads with them, pleads for it to stop,