Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Davy
Sunday morning, Master got us up when it was still dark outside again, and we had an awesome pancake breakfast and then we went to the top of this place before the sun came up, so we could watch the sunrise with a little fire-heater thing from this awesome perch above the trees.
And then we did a gravity coaster down the mountain, rode the chair lift back to the top, hiked on a crazy rope bridge, ziplined, did a ropes course, had some beer and burgers with a couple of yummy sides on the platform with the fire, and then rode a different mountain coaster down, decided which we liked best, and rode back to the top to do the zipline for another hour, and finally rode our favorite coaster back to the bottom again.
Our security people drove us into the National Park and eventually to the trailhead for the Chimneys, and the four of us hiked to the top. Master hadn’t been kidding about how steep the last part of the trail is, but the three-sixty views at the top were totally worth it. I’ve never understood the draw of hiking, but I got it, standing on top of the mountain we’d just hiked.
We went to a dinner show with horses and all kinds of craziness later that night, and then Master took me back to the cabin and fucked my ass like he wasn’t even a tiny bit tired — hard and fast and long. He’d put a super-heavy plug in with a skinny neck after we left the place with the ropes and stuff, so I was extra tight, but it hurt in all the best ways, and I even managed to be close enough to beg for an orgasm — and be granted permission!
Best. Day. Ever.
* * * *
Will
I had two orgasms Friday, three Saturday, and three Sunday, so it was good Davy finally got one Sunday night.
Other than the punishment session and the times I used his body to get myself off, we’d had mostly the energy of boyfriends with an air of power exchange. He called me Sir and Master around Ranger and Mac, and of course when we were alone, but knew better than to do so in public. Still, even in public, he did as he was told and he deferred to me when people asked us something.
We were on a tight schedule today, our last day, but there was still lots of room for fun. We had another early breakfast and then drove through the park to Cherokee, where we shopped a little, hiked the straight-up mile to Mingo Falls, and then drove backroads to north Georgia.
When we were about thirty minutes out, I told him, “Panda and Mira are already where we’re going, to make sure no one spills the beans about the fact we’re on the way. They needed our driver’s licenses in time to square all the insurance stuff away.”
He didn’t ask a million questions because he’s been well trained, and I smiled to myself, enjoying upping the anticipation a little more before I shared my big surprise.
“We’ll both have our own experience first, alone, and then we’ll have some time together. Since you’re comfortable with Mac and Ranger, they’ll be with you while Panda and Mira are with me.” I glanced at him and looked back to the road. “You are to follow their orders no matter what. If they say duck, you duck. If they pick you up and start running, you hold on and make it as easy as possible for them to get you to safety. I don’t foresee any problems because it’s a closed course with a lot of security to start with, plus we’re bringing our own, but if I find out you gave them problems I’ll be most displeased.”
“I understand, Master.”
“Do you know what Road Atlanta is?”
“I know what the Atlanta Motor Speedway is, Master.”
“Completely different place, and not especially close to Atlanta, actually. There’s a racing school that teaches at the track, so you’ll get a private lesson in defensive driving as well as racing basics. You’ll be in one of their cars, and the price of the class covers any damage to the car. If you follow their instructions you won’t wreck, so that isn’t a license to crash, but so long as no one’s hurt, it won’t be some tragic event.”
Okay, enough about that. Back to the fun stuff. “While you’re taking the first part of the class, I’ll be able to race the McLaren around the track at high speed — though I’ll have an instructor with me the first fifteen minutes to help me brush up on what I’ve learned in the past before I go solo and hopefully full out.” I shrugged. “Not completely solo. Either Panda or Mira will be in the McLaren’s passenger seat once the instructor no longer is. Your car will have a backseat, so you’ll have either Mac or Ranger with you even when the instructor is with you.”
“Thank you, Master.” He rubbed his leg with the palm of his hand. “If you’d done this before you made me drive, or before we had so much fun on the coasters yesterday, I think I’d have been horrified, but I’m actually excited about learning to drive a car fast while still being safe.”
* * * *
Will
The McLaren W1 is advertised with a top speed of two hundred and forty miles per hour, but I’d probably have to rent the Atlanta Motor Speedway to get it that high, and honestly, the one hundred and fifty-three miles per hour I reached is about as fast as I think I want to go. The top Road Atlanta speed is supposed to be one hundred and sixty, so I figure I got pretty close to the professionals.
Of course, I was on the track all by myself, and not with a whole pack of cars. That would be a totally different scenario.
They worked with Davy on another track for a couple of hours, and I pulled into the pits when they let me know it was time for him to move to the main track. I had an open phone line while I drove, and they had the same thing between Davy’s instructor and the main control people, so I parked the car and made my way to the tower, where I could listen in. Also, I could see the various cameras around the track, and see the on-board camera’s feed.
Ranger sat with me, while Mac and Panda were situated at two points on the track, and Mira was in the tiny backseat of the BMW my boy was driving. Later, he’d drive a Porsche and Mira would be down in the pits, since there wouldn’t be a backseat.
And then eventually, he’d drive the McLaren, though I didn’t think he’d make it much above a hundred miles per hour, since he was only doing around ninety on the straightaways now.
I took lots of pictures from the tower — both of what I could see by looking out the glass, and of the various monitors. I did a little video on the impressive parts of the track, and made a mental note to get some pics and videos of me in and around the McLaren so the Road Atlanta stuff showed. We’d be doing a music video featuring the car in a few weeks, and that meant I could write the car’s rental off on my taxes. Some pics from here would let me write the track rental off as well, though I’d have to get my intellectual property attorney to read the fine print of the contract to make sure I didn’t need some extra licensing to use their brand.
Davy and I weren’t in disguise this afternoon since everyone here knew who we are, and everyone present had signed an NDA.
I heard the instructor gently encouraging my boy to get into the gas a little more, talking him through steering and breaking before the curves and then hitting the gas to pull out of them, and I approved. My instructor had been more about cautioning me to slow down more before the curves, but once he realized I could handle the high speeds, he’d chilled. I’d gradually increased speeds until I felt I was at my limit, and then he’d helped me figure out where I could go faster. When I finished, they told me my lap speeds were on par with the professionals, but I reminded them I was all alone on the track. No way would I want to be out in a pack of cars doing those speeds.
Davy didn’t freak when they moved him to the Porsche, but when they told him it was time for the McLaren, he said, “Oh, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I hadn’t spoken yet because I didn’t want him to know I was listening in, but it seemed the right time to do so. “It’s fine, Davy. Start out a little slower than what you made it to in the Porsche and work your way up as you gain confidence. When you finish, I’ll make a few more laps, and then we can go somewhere nice to eat. Have fun with it, Davy. It’s why we’re here.”
He drove the McLaren for nearly an hour, and then I had forty minutes before our time was up, and I used every second of it. Also, I insisted no one rode with me during those forty minutes. If I crashed, I’d only hurt myself and not someone else. Panda tried to insist he or Mira ride with me, but I put my foot down. The track was closed and there was tons of security. I’d be fine.
And I was.