Chapter 3

Twilight provides a modicum of cover as we exit the cab. It is amusing to observe Sunny acclimate to her simple leash. I keep moderate tension on the line, and though the cabdriver offers a perplexed look, there is a bit of a shrug as he accepts payment with a sizable tip, my hand jostling the makeshift leash to bring a muffled gasp of pain.

The street is void of people. Remaining somewhat industrial, few are the buildings converted to residential space. The seclusion is ideal for directing a girl on a leash and I must laugh as Sunny attempts to step toward her apartment without my concurrence. Like a puppy, she strains the leash and whimpers as the myriad of nerve endings in her nose serve to chastise her rash motion.

“Whoa, Sunny. Going somewhere without me?” I laugh in taunting.

I pull to reel in my leashed plaything, forcing her to step towards me and look up at my face.

“How do you feel? You’re being governed by a simple length of string.”

I lift my arm. Having wrapped the twine about my index finger, her nose and face follow.

“You can unhook the clasp, but you do not. You can ask to be released, but you do not. Your muffled gasps suggest pain, yet there is enjoyment.”

She nods, the motion comically adding to the tension on the string.

“We’re going to enjoy each other’s company, Sunny. Come.”

She is surprised when I lead her away from the entrance. Across the street, down the block. Fortunately, perhaps unfortunately for she starved for masochistic attention, there are no passersby. Still I establish my control. She most subserviently follows knowing that the slightest tug brings agony.

“I’ll want to see how nimble that tongue is, Sunny. You promised fellatio.”

***

A dreary day of reviewing data is interspersed with thoughts of that minx Sunny endeavoring to lower my zipper with her teeth.

For a girl of her age, not a bad blow job. I recall in medical school the sardonic discussions concerning the outbreak of teen pregnancy. One wag made the suggestion that more proficiency in oral sex would serve to blunt the epidemic.

Finally walking her back to her apartment Sunny knelt before me, nose leash removed, her arms behind her back, folded upward as I grasped her wrists to render her hands useless.

“Practice, practice, practice,” I lectured as she finally caught the zipper tab in her teeth and pulled downward.

Okay, I helped a little in freeing my penis of my underwear. But thereafter she seemed to be all tongue and lips. Working with zeal, at a young age she has learned to control her gag reflex. When the time came, it seemed like I ejaculated directly into her stomach, my spending accompanied by a slight gulp and a devilish smile in offering such sublime submission.

An inspection of her loft followed. Her clothing removed, she pranced about naked as I learned her abode was large indeed. High ceilinged. Understandably grimy. Otherwise perfect for the games to be played.

In the glow of a gratifying explosion of semen, I learned more about my pet minx. I had her sit at my feet as we talked.

Sunny emigrated from Bulgaria trading casual sex for favors. A truck ride across this country and that. Working westward. Some bigger favors from men of Dominance. A bondage scene here, some flogging there, her age instilled concern in those desiring something long term. All used... abused?.. and encouraged her to move onward.

Eventually came New York. It seems the doggie style sex I envisioned was a favorite of some immigration clerk. An illegitimate visa cost Sunny Sudenskaya three couplings. The clerk’s marital status made the arrangement easy to terminate once papers were received. Vanilla is not Sunny’s thing, but the practicality of accepting penetration earned her a stay.

Sunny is undereducated but bright. Her effervescence brought a job as some minion in an advertising firm.

Gazing down as she spoke, I reached to palpate her flesh, pinching here, prodding there. Supple, lithe, nicely curved, her loose clothing veils an otherwise engaging form. I could not help thinking that she could be folded up and placed in a surprisingly small box. Sans covering Sunny seems to be all breasts and buttocks and such meaty softness is easily shaped for confinement.

Yes, a simple box. Wrapped, labeled and shipped. A packaged masochist, eager to extend her submission, her obedience, an offering of anguish for those who would be amused... such as me.

“I will return tomorrow night at 7:00 p.m. Greet me at the front door downstairs. Naked. I will leash your nose and lead you up the elevator.”

Her flesh turned anserine with the thought. Then she silently nodded.

I look at my watch. For some reason my attention is diverted from reviewing the inspection results of hips placed years ago in dogs. We donate hips to the family pooch with the agreement that upon the animal’s demise, an autopsy can be performed to ascertain wear and tear on our design. Thus Fido’s arthritic hip can be replaced considerably more cheaply than his master’s... one of the ironies of medicine.

It is 6:15 p.m. My grommet device awaits. I load and call for a cab.

***