My dictionary defines epiphany simply as 'an appearance' and goes on to reference twelfth night. In my mind it has come to mean an appearance of such consequence that it has an effect on the course of your life. Perhaps I am stretching the word a bit but I will leave that to the reader to decide.
I was sitting at my desk working on a new book when Tara came in and knelt beside my chair. That was unusual enough as we didn't push that master and slave business and all the slave positions between ourselves. What really shook me up, though, was that when I turned to look at her she had tears in her eyes.
I was about to ask her what was wrong when she blurted out, "Master, I am pregnant."
It took only a couple of seconds for me to realize that I must have forgotten to renew the anti-pregnancy implants. Well it was time to do something that I had been thinking about for some time. I opened a desk drawer and took out a key and a box. Turning to Tara, I unlocked and removed her collar saying the formal declaration, "Tara of Moldova your servitude is completed. You are now a free woman."
Tara looked confused and than asked, "Does that mean you are sending me away?"
Boy I must have been dense not to explain it to her in better fashion. I tried to correct my error by smiling and saying, "Tara, I could no more send you away than rip off my right arm."
I know, rip out my heart would have been more romantic, but it didn't occur to me at the time. I expanded saying, "I want you right here but there are some big decisions you have to make and I want you to make them as a free woman. I don't want you to decide because you think it might please your master."
"You mean keeping the baby?" she asked.
I replied, "Well, there's that but no I was thinking of a different decision."
I slid off the chair so that I was kneeling facing her at more or less the same level, opened the box and showed it to her as I said, "Tara of Moldova will you become my life partner?"
She seemed to be stunned for a moment as she looked down at the contents of the box. There were the traditional three rings. The first was platinum with small diamonds surrounding a large central diamond. This was the commitment ring. The next was also platinum with just small diamonds. This was the partnership ring. The last was a small gold band, the traditional male partner's ring.
I don't know why I had hesitated freeing her and asking her. I didn't think I was commitment phobic or anything like that. Perhaps it was just that I was so happy with Tara that I was unwilling to rock the boat. And, yes, I know, that I am supposed to be an author and ought to be able to come up with a more romantic way of asking than the stilted formula I had used. Still, she had caught me by surprise. I hadn't exactly been planning on asking her today. It just seemed important that I ask her now.
I had no more time to think as realization came to Tara. One moment I was kneeling before her, the next I was flat of the floor being crushed, pleasurably crushed to be sure, but crushed nonetheless by my beautiful Amazon. I was being kissed on my lips, me cheeks and whatever else she could reach as her body squirmed over me.
"I take it that means yes," I gasped when my lips were free.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes. A thousand yeses master."
"Not master, we are to be partners."
Tara pushed back (up) a bit and asked, "Does that mean you won't tie me to your bed and take me any more?"
I knew that Tara loved our bondage sessions as much as I did. Being tied down left her free to thrash and tug and enjoy whatever I was doing to her body at the moment. I smiled at her and said, "Well perhaps master and little sex slave when we make love."
Well that was my epiphany. As soon as she let me up off the floor I registered her freedom and our partnership to the appropriate government bureaucracies. We continued much as we had been with Tara producing three beautiful and intelligent children over the next few years. That's not just a proud parent talking. It seems that the mixing of Terran and Moldovian DNA produced an unusual mixed race much as the ancient Polynesians had been.
I have become a fiction writer. I sort of drifted there. After the story of my adventure I researched and wrote about several other space force adventures. Then somehow I drifted into what my publisher calls 'bodice rippers.' I am not quite certain what a bodice is or why you would want to rip one but the books sell like mad and have made me quite wealthy. Tara manages our horse breeding ranch and despite conventional wisdom has made it (slightly) profitable. She refuses to purchase indentured servants and hires wranglers and the foreman for wages. Tara claims she gets better productivity. Since we are very comfortable for credits and since she manages to keep it (barely) in the black, I don't try to interfere.
Rather surprisingly we still see Cindy Lee. She is an even greater singing star and married another singer called Brad something or other. Unfortunately, while they are cordial and friendly, Brad's sexual taste runs to young men, or if they are not available, then flat chested, slim hipped, anorexic model types who enjoy anal sex. Cindy Lee, on the other hand, is all woman with a great chest, nice slim waist above broad hips and a lovely ass and apparently doesn't float Brad's boat.
She stays in the marriage because it keeps people from hitting on her (or at least cuts down on the volume and intensity) as she travels on concert tours. Whenever she is not on tour or in the recording studio she sneaks away for a week or so with us.
While I am not particularly homophobic I am bothered by seeing a friend in this rather sterile partnership. For a while I tried to convince her to dump him but in the end Tara reminded me of the old proverb. No, not the "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink" proverb. The one about fixing what you can, accepting what you can't and having the wisdom to know the difference. As Tara reminded me it is Cindy Lee's partnership and her decision.
At one time Cindy Lee claimed she visited us to 'get her ashes hauled' but the relationship is more complex than that. First of all it was as much between Tara and Cindy Lee as it was with me. The normal rules didn't seem to apply.
Look, as a fairly wealthy author and consultant to the space forces I travel to business meetings and conferences. There have been, shall we say, opportunities to play with other women. Some very attractive other women who have shown signs of being willing to get better acquainted. I won't say I haven't noticed other women, I'm a guy. I have never really wanted to take advantage of those opportunities. I knew that if I did it would hurt Tara and that is the last thing I ever wanted to do. I love that woman and I would never do anything that might possibly hurt her. Well, perhaps injure her would be better wording. I am certain some of my more inventive bondage positions must cause some aches.
What I am trying to say is that our relationship with Cindy Lee somehow didn't fit
under those rules. We had sex in all sort of mixes and permutations but somehow there was never any jealousy or sense of cheating. Perhaps it was because we were so open among ourselves. On a typical night the girls would wrestle to see who was on top that evening and who the sub was for that evening. Tara was clearly stronger but occasionally she would allow Cindy Lee to win.
I don't know where Cindy Lee developed her technique but she had a very light stroke that turned ordinary flesh into erogenous zones. It was so gentle that you thought it was your imagination. Tara called it butterfly kisses. I know what she means because I have experienced this maddening light touch on occasion.
Generally, among the three of us, the sub was tied and teased but not allowed an orgasm until after playtime was over. During playtime the sub was generally repeatedly brought to the edge of orgasm while the other two would f**k like bunnies in view or at least within hearing of that night's sub.
I remember one memorable evening when Tara was tied to one of the corner posts of our bed. She was seated on the bed with her back against a corner post and one leg drawn up to the long crossbar and the other tied tightly to the crossbar across the foot of the bed. As you can envision this kept her legs spread at a 90 degree angle and her lovely pussy exposed.
We began the evening with me playing with Tara's sensitive breasts and Cindy Lee eagerly lapping at her pussy. When Tara was pretty much on the verge of an orgasm Cindy Lee had me lie on the bed with my head between Tara's spread legs. Then she mounted my mouth and had me eat her to a very nice orgasm while she played with Tara's breasts to keep her on edge. As I ate her I could hear Cindy Lee explaining just where my tongue was and how good it felt. Well, she did that until toward the end when she pretty much dissolved in guttural sounds that might have been "Oh Yes!" or might just have been grunts.
Once I had performed for Cindy Lee I was dismissed while Cindy Lee stroked Tara with those light butterfly kisses. Tara was moaning and begging when Cindy Lee finally scooted back and began to lap at Tara's pussy. That was my signal to lift Cindy Lee's hips and slide into her from the rear. Of course this broke Cindy Lee's concentration on Tara's pussy and Cindy Lee began to describe exactly how deep I was and how good it felt and how fast I was going. Now Tara could see all of this for herself but Cindy Lee kept her mouth near Tara's pussy so that every word was a gentle breath caressing her pussy but never quite enough to bring Tara over the edge.
Tara was begging but all three of us knew the rules of the game and Tara was just going to be odd woman out most of that evening. I guess Cindy Lee was bothered by the begging because she pulled away and got a gag. Once Tara had been silenced Cindy Lee resumed the position and I slid back into her. I guess she was pretty worked up because as I pumped enthusiastically into her I reached around and flicked her clit and she came even more explosively than she had when I ate her.
After Cindy Lee had her second orgasm I flipped her over, tied her in a face up spread eagle and slid back into her from the missionary position. I hadn't quite come yet and I figured Tara could just watch from behind. Using my finger on her clit I managed to bring Cindy Lee a third orgasm just after I had mine.
Unfortunately I fell asleep (I know, just like a man) after all that exertion and with both women tied down Tara was left with whatever the female equivalent of blue balls is. Cindy Lee could have woken me but instead she just lay there in post orgasmic bliss and eventually drifted off to sleep leaving a somewhat miffed and very frustrated tied and gagged Tara until next morning.
There might have been some residual resentment because the next day Tara took Cindy Lee horseback riding. This gave me time to work on my latest book and I thought nothing of it at the time. I found out what had transpired that evening when Cindy Lee begged off from sex explaining that she was too sore. I thought we'd had a pretty good time the last night but I didn't think it was that much so I inquired further.
It seems Tara had taken some additional supplies with the picnic in her saddle bags. They rode out to a remote part of the ranch and had their picnic. Then Tara jumped Cindy Lee and tied her hands behind her back, pulled down her jeans and underwear and inserted both a butt plug and a large dildo. Tara then mounted Cindy Lee on her horse, with her hands still behind her, tying her legs and ankles to ensure that she couldn't fall off. Tara took the reigns and began cantering all over the ranch. The canter, for those of you who are not horse people is a very bouncy ride. Without her hand Cindy Lee had to grip the horse as best as she could with her thighs while the plugs battered her fore and aft. Tara insisted that Cindy Lee had come at least eight times over the course of the afternoon and showed the soaked crotch of her jeans as proof of her claim.
That seemed a bit harsh to me so I fastened Tara onto the bed in a face up spread eagle. Then I hogtied Cindy Lee and hoisted her to the bed between Tara's legs. I lifted Cindy Lee's legs rolling her forward and forcing her mouth to Tara's pussy. Giving her a not very serious swat I told her to get busy.
The swat may not have been much but Cindy Lee understood how vulnerable she was and got busy. Tara was getting very close to an orgasm when I let her legs down allowing her to roll back on to her middle and lifting her head out of contact with Tara. I asked her to tell me her version of this afternoon's ride while Tara moaned and begged her to finish what she had started. As Cindy Lee spoke I watched Tara until I was pretty certain that she was pretty much back from her pre-orgasmic high. Then I rolled Cindy Lee back forward and had her start up again.
We went through this routine about three times with Tara getting more and more frustrated each time I rolled Cindy Lee back and asked her some question about the ride. The questions were all nominally innocent thing like "was she afraid when Tara forced the horses to canter," and "how big a butt plug did Tara use?" Of course I couldn't care less about the answers. The questions were just an excuse to stop Cindy Lee from bringing Tara to orgasm and to frustrate my lovely Tara.
Eventually with Tara begging for release I rolled Cindy Lee onto her side and climbed up onto Tara. She was smiling then because she knew that I wasn't really mad at her and that she soon would get relief for her frustrations.
One day I walked into our bedroom and found a nude woman fastened to one corner of our four poster bed by the simple expedient of thumb cuffs which held her hands around the post. She was otherwise free but when she saw me she sort of moaned and blushed and turned as far away from me as she could. Not so far away, though, that I couldn't see that it was none other than Mavis Witherspoon.
My first thought was to ask her what she was doing here but I had been partnered for several months at that time and I was already smart enough to know that the best thing to do would be to go ask Tara. So I did.
I caught up with Tara in the office she had fixed up to work on the horse ranch books and said, "I just saw Mavis Witherspoon in our bedroom."
Without looking up Tara replied, "Uh huh."
"She was nude and handcuffed to the bed," I insisted.
Tara finished whatever it was she had been doing and turned to look at me saying, "I know. I put her there. Oh, and by the way, she is thumb cuffed not handcuffed."
I was getting fed up with this and said, in my best master's voice, "I had guessed you had put her there. Now I want to know the whole story."
Tara, of course wasn't very intimidated. We both knew that I might be the Dom to her sub but that I was never going to do anything to hurt my precious sub. She told me the following story.
"You remember how turned on Mavis was when she rode out of here with Big Boy's cock up her butt? Well it turns out that it wasn't due to the anal thing. It was due to the domination and humiliation. It took Mavis a couple of weeks to figure it out and a couple of months before she worked up the nerve to call me.
"Well, last week when I was in town to do the auto chef shopping, she and I had a long lunch together and discussed the situation. Once she told me everything we agreed that she could come up here for a day and I would treat her poorly. The no clothes are part of that. I had to finish some work here but I put her in our bedroom so that she would have the additional humiliation of you discovering her.
"I guess I better go up and get her. I plan to put her to work scrubbing floors just like we used to do with Blondie."
I was a bit up in the air. What she had told me cleared things up but I wasn't particularly happy that I hadn't been consulted in any of this. After all, I was supposed to be the master around here. What I said was, "Well, I am not going to have sex with that woman!"
Tara smiled at me and said "Of course not dear. She gets all the sex she needs from Big Boy. What she needs from us is humiliation."
And so it went. I never had much contact with Mavis except for times when she would offer a blow job and I would refuse. Then Tara would tell her what trash she was, not even good enough to give the master blow jobs. Or perhaps when Tara made Mavis kneel on the floor of my office and masturbate herself with me watching. Of course she had to clean up the mess afterwards.
So there you have it the entire story of how I went from space explorer to very successful author. I have my Tara, enjoy Cindy Lee when she visits and watch with amusement when Tara puts Mavis through her paces.
I didn't enjoy my captivity but, on balance, I wouldn't have wished for anything different.