When I wake up early in the morning, I am not immediately aware of what I am about to do. But I do feel wired. I realise my purpose quickly when I jump out of bed and see the differences: my shaven abdomen and the ring through my labia. I will go and meet him! And, yes, I will dress in white for him. Underwear, short dress and shoes, that is all. I have looked outside and seen that the day promises to become very warm.

It is not long before I drive out of my city, which is still sleeping. Within a few hours I appear to have left civilisation far behind. Endlessly long straight highways in barren land, lined by occasional farms and hamlets only. The landscape is hardly cheerful, but my happiness in anticipation of my meeting is robust. The morose people in the two diners I visit are to me as from another planet, and I to them.

It is four p.m. when I finally reach the village he has indicated. It is a one-horse town and I have no trouble finding the shack that serves as the post-office. The man at the counter eyes me intently as I approach. He makes me nervous, but I realise that he would not see many virgin-brides enter his space. Whatever his thoughts, he hears my request and lazily turns, shuffles around his space and finally hands me an envelope. No, he cannot remember the person who deposited it. Thanking him, I leave, clutching the envelope. From Him to me!

No sooner have I entered my car or I tear the envelope open and snatch the content out. A map with a marked route. I eagerly hope the indicated destination equates to him.

A journey of a further hour in the scorching sun leads me along ever-smaller roads. (Somebody here? What if my car suddenly broke down here? I have to have faith!) Then I see what must be my destination in the distance: a large bungalow near a small lake. Save a group of trees at its edge the surrounding land is barren. A mountain range is visible in the distance. It takes me five more minutes to reach the house at long last.  

The bungalow is of a simple but elegant wooden construction. The side of the building I approach is largely closed. At the end of the driveway I stop the car and switch off the engine. Silence falls upon me and not a thing moves. With trepidation, I get out and walk to the door. I knock and wait, fruitlessly. And again. My heart sinks. Then I try the door and find it open.

I enter his realm and call out to Him. I receive no reply.

Where is he?

I go on and survey his spaces, first entering a large, sparsely furnished living room. The wide-open view of the lake in the middle of that lunar landscape overpowers me. The ceiling is high and the facade towards the South-West is made entirely of glass. The shutters are open and it is very hot. At this hour, the mountain range is dark against the glare of the descending sun. The master bedroom is only half separated from the living room and contains little more than an enormous bed - empty and made-up. This and the adjoining bathroom also open to the landscape. The house counts two more bedrooms and a kitchen.

All empty of him.

The place is deserted.

What good is the kingdom without the king?

In the master bedroom there was a steel box on the bed... That may hold what's next! Returning to it, I find a key inserted in the lock and open the box. There is a further envelope. My hands tremble slightly when I tear it open and find a note inside. His note!

It tells me I am to call his phone number first thing every morning and receive the instructions for the day. I can't help a sigh. Every morning? Will he leave me here alone for days and at what reward? The note provides no clue.

It does hold further instructions. I am to undress and fold up my clothes. I am to take a fine golden chain out of the box, clip the ends to my nipples and fix a pair of golden discs to the ring through my labia. I should place the stack of clothes and my car keys along with the travel instructions in the box and lock it. I am to walk outside and throw the key into the lake.

I will obey, as I have no choice. I feel already I am no longer the mistress of my life. I will lock my past and the road to normality away.

The nipple clips fit firmly but not too tight. Gradually their grip starts burning, however, a feeling that numbs gradually but never fully. I remain aware of their hold and of the chain that swings between my bare breasts. And of the discs, which lightly clatter when I walk.

As the sun sets, I stand at the edge of the lake in the sultry spring air and stare into the great emptiness. It takes a long, long time before I finally commit the key to the water.

Read the full story in her e-book 'Menagerie and other erotic stories' HERE (press the link to see details - look for Volume 12.) It has just been published by The Erotic Author's Association. She is proud of this as she humbly find herself among great colleagues. Now it needs to be bought! As the book is currently unavailable, do contact me if you want to read the rest. We'll make an arrangement. Or I could reissue via Lulu by popular demand, for example.

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