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I turned on the radio, letting whatever came on play, no matter how bad. It turned out to be a song by Greig. Angie didn’t seem to mind it and didn’t try to change the station.
I smiled a bit. It had been a test to gauge her level of obedience. I would have seen how easily she accepted my choice of pizza topping, the only true test of submission, but we were short on time.
“Choose the station,” I said.
Again, at my word, she leaned over, her cleavage showing quite clearly in the top of the tank top she was wearing and adjusted the tuner. It went past rap, country, Top 40, the stay mercifully brief in each case. Suddenly the melodic power of a familiar metal song, Nightwish, started to pound from the absurdly expensive sound system and Angie stopped.
“I love this song,” she commented.
I tried to keep my surprise to myself. I hadn’t come across many Americans who were into European metal. Or metal at all, for that matter. I tried to take a read of her emotional resonance as we went. I needed to get an idea of her mind space as she drove with a man she barely knew to his cabin deep in the mountains while listening to symphonic metal. All I got was a strong sense of both calm and joy.
The view only got better the higher we went. Angie was glued to her window like a kid on their first airplane flight. I couldn’t help but wonder what she would think of the cottage.
Technically the company owned it. At least as far as the tax man was concerned. To be fair, I did do a lot of work out there. Even more than I got done at the office, actually. It seemed fair to write it off as a business expense.
The property was surrounded by a ten-foot stone wall, installed by a fifth-generation stonemason whose ancestors had worked on some of the finest estates in Britain, including those of the lower-level aristocracy. The two halves of the wall were joined at the front of the cottage by an automatic gate made out of wrought iron. I pushed the button set into the car’s visor, the gates slowly opening as the SUV rolled up.
What the cottage lacked in height, it made up for in width. Its classic single-floor design boasted just over 3,000 square feet of interior space.
“It’s beautiful,” Angie whispered.
Leaving her suitcase in the SUV, we headed for the cottage. The gate whirred shut behind us, locking the world out.
“Your room is on the right,” I said, punching the entrance code into the keypad by the door. “Go in there and change.”
“Okay,” Angie said, without a note of reservation in her voice.
As Angie went to her assigned room, taking off her backpack as she walked, I stripped down to my boxers and did some stretches to work out the kinks I had acquired on the drive up. When I could finally move without wincing, I went down the corridor to my new pet’s room.
“Are you ready?” I asked from outside the door.
“Yeah.”
She was sitting on the bed clad only in the black silk robe I had laid out for my next pet the last time I had been up here. I scanned her carefully, finding her much the same as I had the day before. The only surprise was that both her fingernails and toenails were kept natural.
I moved closer, gently turning her neck for a closer look, and noticed that aside from some lipstick, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Taking a wet wipe from the box on the bedside table, I wiped it off, so I could see her how she really was. I carefully slipped off her glasses, knowing that she was near-sighted but still able to see everything up to my current range.
“Lie down.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, obeying immediately.
I slipped one of the extra pillows under her hips, raising them up. When she was in a suitable position, I carefully untied the belt of the robe, opening it wide. She had taken off everything, including her corset.
I could see the subtle, red lines where it had constricted her. I ran a finger along them, making her hum gently. Stroking my hands down over her legs, I took her firmly by the ankles, parting them.
Her pussy was even prettier than I had expected. Pink and delicate, already wet with excitement.
Getting the bottle of lube from the bedside table, I put some on my fingers and slid the first into her. It was tough going, with Angie gasping and raising her ass in the air as my finger went in, her pussy lips squeezing hard and tight against me.
She was telling the truth when she said that she was young and healthy. She had, however, left out the part about being a virgin.
