*****
Jarod was piling pancakes onto a plate when Parker entered the airy kitchen-cum-dining area. He quickly placed the plate onto a table, holding out a chair for her to sit in. Once he had pushed her chair in, he slipped gracefully to the floor beside her. Parker stared at the high stack of pancakes in amusement. There was far too much for her to eat alone, and Jarod was wearing a faintly hopeful expression.
"Very good, boy," Parker said. She soused her pancakes with syrup, cutting them into bite sized pieces, then lightly touched Jarod under his chin, "Raise your head, boy."
Jarod tilted his head up, and Miss Parker took a sticky piece of pancake and held it to his lips. He ate the piece carefully, licking her fingers clean when she continued to hold them in front of his mouth. Parker fed him in that manner until a little over half of the food was gone, then stood up.
"Is everything to your liking, Mistress?" Jarod asked anxiously. Parker lifted the plate up, waving at the table.
"Up there, on your back. I choose to take my breakfast with slave on the side," she said, grinning to herself.
Jarod smiled back, hoisting himself up onto the table and laying flat. Miss Parker tipped the remaining pancakes onto his abdomen, and then grabbed the bottle of syrup, squeezing it all over his stomach and chest.
"Oh, look at this mess," Parker said cheerfully.
Poking some of the pancake into place over Jarod’s nipple, Miss Parker bent her head to eat it, flicking her tongue over his nipple and scraping it lightly with her teeth. Jarod made a soft noise in the back of his throat, and Parker noticed his cock was gradually hardening. She slipped her fingers over his hard chest, curling them through his crisp chest hair and making everything sticky with syrup. Jarod’s chest heaved, and Parker dipped her head again to take more mouthfuls of pancake from his abdomen.
Touching her fingers to Jarod’s mouth, Parker allowed him to lick and suck them clean. She nibbled away the last of her breakfast, and then licked his hip. Jarod gave a low groan, clenching his hands at his side, and Miss Parker chuckled.
"Something wrong, boy?" she murmured.
"Nothing, Mistress, everything is... perfect," Jarod whispered huskily. Parker gave a soft sigh of satisfaction, straightening up.
"You can stand up now," she instructed.
"Mistress?" Jarod said in an urgent tone.
"Up!" Parker said, and laughed.
Jarod sat up slowly, casting a wry look at his sticky chest and abdomen. Miss Parker leant forward, slowly running her tongue across his collarbone. Jarod’s hands drifted to her hips, just resting there lightly, and she edged forward, standing between his legs. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, nipping at the tendons on his neck.
"Mistress..." Jarod breathed, applying just the slightest pressure to her hips with his fingertips.
"Everyday, you’ll bring me breakfast in bed - something I can feed you, nothing too messy. You’ll bring me breakfast on a tray, and kneel beside me on the bed, so I can feed you as I please," Parker whispered into his ear, "Then you’ll run me a bath. I will bathe first, and unless otherwise instructed, you will bathe while I dress."
"Yes Mistress," Jarod said, giving a small shudder as she paused to suck on his earlobe.
"You are to keep yourself clean and fit - if at anytime you feel your physical or mental health is endangered by my actions or actions I have instructed you to perform, you are to stop immediately and tell me. Do you understand?" she asked. Jarod nodded seriously, and she continued, touching his chin lightly, "Don’t shave for a few days. I like the feel of some stubble burn on my thighs."
Jarod gave a hoarse moan at her last words, and Parker kissed the edge of his mouth very gently. He turned his head, as if to press his lips to hers, but she stepped away, denying him that pleasure. Sliding from the table, Jarod dropped to his knees, laying his head by her feet.
"Thank you Mistress," he whispered, and touched his lips to the top of each of Parker’s bare feet. She gazed at him in mild amazement. He had been trained well, very well.
"Go upstairs and take a shower. I want to explore," Miss Parker said. Jarod bobbed his head in acknowledgement, then climbed to his feet and jogged up the stairs.
Giving a quick look around the well-equipped kitchen, Parker made her way through a pair of bi-fold doors, finding herself in an open plan living area. There was a long modular couch in the centre of the room, with a bar in the corner of the room. There was no television of computer, Parker noted, but shelves filled with books. A series of glass doors against the far wall gave access to a courtyard, and outside she found a small deck and pool overlooking a lush garden.
Behind a variety of tropical plants, Miss parker could see a high aluminium fence, painted green to blend in, topped with electrified wire. There was no gate that she could see. Heading back inside, she found a door tucked away behind a freestanding bookshelf. She managed to shove it aside a few inches, but didn’t have the strength to do more than that. Slipping her hand into the narrow space, Parker found that the door was locked. She couldn’t get out if she tried.
"Mistress?" Jarod said from the doorway, looking worried.
"Come here," Parker said gently, finding herself wanting to comfort Jarod, despite the fact that he was the one holding her captive in the first place.
She was slipping into the headspace of mistress easily, her concern for her slave overruling all else. Jarod loped over to her quickly, kneeling by her feet and gazing up at her. Miss Parker threaded her fingers into his wet hair, ruffling it gently.
"It is traditional, when a slave and Mistress are bound to each other, for a Mistress to present her slave with one or more things to mark him as her own. These are symbolic markings, but important ones. First," Miss Parker said, drawing her selected jewellery from her pocket, "A collar - or what will suffice as one, anyway."
Jarod leaned forward. He studied the circlet of gold Miss Parker held out for his inspection, reaching up to touch his finger to it, almost reverentially. The collar was a delicate chain of tiny interconnected gold loops, approximately half an inch thick. It did up with a small catch, and was designed to sit comfortably around the base of the throat.
"This belongs to me. I will put it on you, to show that you also belong to me. It is mine to put on you, and mine to take off of you. The day I take this off you is the day we are no longer bound to each other. Do you understand and accept the importance of this collar?" Miss Parker asked. Jarod nodded, gazing at her in adoration.
"I understand. I accept. I belong to you," Jarod declared sincerely.
With a warm feeling of ceremony, Miss Parker undid the collar, holding it by its two ends and placing it around Jarod’s neck. He bowed his head, giving her access to the back of his neck. She fastened the collar, tugging quickly to make sure it was secure, and then trailed her fingers around until her hands met under his chin.
"Thank you Mistress," Jarod whispered. He kissed her fingertips gently.
"I’ll give you one other thing today, slave," Miss Parker said. Jarod raised his head expectantly, and she continued, "A name. A slave name; which only I will ever call you."
Parker stared thoughtfully at her new slave, idly playing with the collar that rested on his throat. She wanted a name that would epitomise everything of the man he was, a name that would be precious and powerful.
"You’re strong, an unstoppable force. Wild and untamed, forever running, always changing, morphing, and adjusting," she mused. She smiled serenely as the answer came to her, tipping Jarod’s face to her own and placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. Her voice was a whisper, "River. Your name will be River."
"River," Jarod repeated, "Your River."
They spent much of the day lazily soaking up the sun; Parker found a bikini amongst the clothes in the bedroom, and Jarod provided her with a deck chair and some suntan lotion. She tortured him a little by requesting that he apply the lotion to most of her body, and by the time he was finished, they were both a little hot and flustered. Miss Parker dozed under the sun’s warm rays, while Jarod did laps in an attempt to cool off.
For lunch, Jarod brought his Mistress fresh fruit, carefully peeling some oranges with a knife and feeding it to her a slice at a time. He got a pained look on his face when she took a vicious bite out of a banana, but got his own back when he managed to eat a slice of watermelon in a highly suggestive manner.
"Mistress?" Jarod asked later that afternoon, rubbing some lotion into her shoulders.
"Yes River?" Parker murmured distractedly. His hands were like that of a masseuse on her back, soothing the tension from her muscles.
"Are you... protected?"
It took a moment for Miss Parker to figure out his meaning, and she was slightly surprised when she did. The thought of contraception hadn’t even occurred to her, let alone disease prevention. She rolled over to face Jarod, who was perched on the edge of the lounge chair beside her.
"I was last tested two months again, and I haven’t had sex during that period, so I’m clean..." she said. Jarod dropped a gentle kiss on her shoulder, rubbing the last of the lotion into her arms.
"As am I. But what about pregnancy, Mistress?"
Mentally Miss Parker counted dates, "I’m fine for the next six weeks; I have Depo-Provera shots," she said. Jarod ducked his head.
"Just checking, Mistress," he said. Parker reached out to touch his chest in a possessive gesture, twining the crisp curls there around her fingers. Jarod gave a soft yelp when she gave a sharp tug.
"Concern for your Mistress’ well being is a most agreeable trait, slave," she said in amusement. He smiled shyly at her.
Such a difference, Miss Parker thought, from the man who teased and taunted her endlessly. Jarod seemed to have found a contentment and inner-peace in his submission that usually took years to obtain. Gone was the restless creature, tormented by his past and his questions, gone the bitterness and misery.
Jarod the Pretender was obsessive in his approach to life, compelled to help others to redeem himself in his own eyes. His need for control over his own life and fate bordered on neurotic; he dictated his actions and the actions of those around him in a fiercely protective manner.
River, her slave, found peace in giving up his control. Parker knew that turning one’s life over into another’s hands was one of the most difficult things to do - and one of the most rewarding. Ritual and routine in submission provided the structure that many needed to stop themselves from endangering themselves needlessly. By being dominated they still retained the thrill they needed, sexual or otherwise, while having the release of all decisions being taken out of their hands.
Parker suspected this was the case with Jarod. He had spent his whole life rebelling and testing the limits, resenting the power of those around him, so that when he had finally taken his own freedom, he had tried to swallow life in great gulps, needing bigger and bigger thrills to satisfy his rebellious urges. His Pretends became more dangerous; he took on more violent criminals, taking himself to the edge over and over again, only to withdraw at the last moment.
In submission, Jarod was taken away from the edge without ever having a choice in the matter. He was allowed to leave behind his nomadic lifestyle, and given rules he could find comfort in, ones he didn’t have to rebel against. His cooperation would only bring him pleasure and satisfaction; his service to his Mistress would make them both proud. Replacing his old, unpleasant memories of enforced submission with new, consensual and happy ones.
"Thank you Mistress," Jarod breathed finally.
The rest of the day passed peacefully, Jarod preparing them a quick pasta for dinner. Evening came and Parker realised she was tired while it was still early in the night. She read for awhile, and then finally stood, stretching contentedly.
"Turn off all the lights, then come upstairs to bed," she instructed. Jarod nodded, rising from his kneeling position on the floor and beginning to turn off lamps.
Upstairs, Miss Parker prepared for bed. She made some quick rearrangements with the bedding, brushed her teeth, washed her face, used the bathroom, changed into a nightgown and then climbed into bed, leaving only one lamp on. Jarod entered a few moments later, pausing in the doorway.
"Come here River, you don’t have to wait for permission to enter a room," Parker said.
Jarod nodded, going to kneel beside the bed. Miss Parker had placed a thin foam mattress, several blankets and a pillow beside the bed, and saw the obvious disappointment on Jarod’s face. She ran her hand though his hair.
"I choose to remind you of your status, River. Reaffirm that."
"I belong to you, Mistress, your will is mine, your happiness is mine," Jarod said huskily, touching his collar as he did so.
"You may sleep now, River. Goodnight," Parker said, settling down in her covers.
"Goodnight Mistress," Jarod said, and she heard the soft rustle of his blankets as he lay down. Switching off the light, Parker gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes.
Sometime during the night, she was awakened by Jarod’s alarmed cries. By the light of the moon she could see Jarod thrashing about in his makeshift bed. Sliding out of bed and onto the floor beside him, Parker grabbed his arms, shaking gently.
"Wake up. Wake up, it’s just a nightmare," she murmured soothingly. Jarod woke slowly, sleepy and confused, his chest heaving from his exertions.
"Mistress!" he cried hoarsely.
Parker took him in her arms, stroking his back and holding him as he shuddered. She didn’t bother to ask what he had dreamed about, and after a few moments Jarod finally calmed. Miss Parker drew away finally, taking his hands into her own.
"Come to bed. Come with me," she whispered. She pulled him up into the bed, under the covers.
"I’m sorry," Jarod whispered in the darkness. Miss Parker, slightly cold, curled up against his chest, tangling her legs with his. She stroked a stray lock of hair back from his head.
"Don’t be sorry. How often?"
"Every couple of nights. It isn’t as bad as it used to be," Jarod said.
"Can you sleep?" Parker asked. Jarod gingerly wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled up to him.
"Maybe. I don’t know." he replied.
"It’s okay, River. You can keep me warm, keep me safe," she murmured, feeling sleepy and warm, "My beautiful River."
"Thank you Mistress," Jarod mumbled, pressing kisses to her hair.
Miss Parker awoke once more just before dawn, seeing Jarod’s was asleep in the grey light. Their bodies were wound together in a highly intimate manner, one of his thighs slung over hers, their torsos pressed together tightly. Even as he slept, Jarod wound his arms all the more tighter around her, and Parker drifted back to sleep contentedly.
Parker was awoken the next morning by a gentle nibbling on her bare shoulder, and moaned quietly. There was a soft chuckle near her ear, and Parker opened her eyes to see Jarod hovering over her, looking peaceful.
"Good morning Mistress!" he said, and dipped his head to kiss and lick her shoulder once again.
"Good morning, River," Parker purred. Jarod was still naked, and looking down his body she could see his arousal. She smiled, and then tipped him onto his back on the bed. He landed with a gentle thump, looking surprised.
"Your breakfast, Mistress." he said, and gestured at a tray that was sitting on the floor.
"I’m hungry for other things right now, slave," Miss Parker said evilly. She crawled over him, pressing her lips to Jarod’s chest. He sighed, lifting his arms as if to wrap her in them.
"Mistress, please." he murmured.
"Drop your hands, slave, I’m not your girlfriend, remember?" Miss Parker said, without anger, "Lock your hands above your head, as if you were bound. Move them and I’ll have to punish you."
Jarod gave a soft moan, raising his hands above his head in a mild form of bondage. Parker chuckled, throwing off the covers and straddling her very willing slave. He watched her with wide eyes as she bent to kiss his collarbone, her finger slipping to pinch his nipples lightly. Between her thighs, she felt his cock twitch.
"Mistress...!" Jarod gasped. She leaned over him.
"Something you wanted, River?" Miss Parker asked sweetly. Jarod flexed his arms over his head in a frustrated manner.
"Please Mistress, let me touch you." he whispered.
"Like this?" Parker asked, lifting to cup her own breasts, "Is this how you would touch me? Or would you prefer to touch me here?"