Work in progress01:33 Apr 23 2006
Times Read: 776
She had been there for days, or was it merely hours; time had become a blur
as she stood there impatiently waiting. She had never seen a lair like it
before and she had been in several in her lifetime. The tiled floors were a
deep earthy mauve; the wooden columns were painted a dark purple and
lavender silks were draped about the walls. The rosy flesh of the captives
stood out in stark contrast to the hue of the room, and the reddened flesh
of the recently flogged stood out even more.
The silk cords wrapped around her wrists exactly five times before being
knotted at her palms. Her arms were stretched straight out from her body
forming a tee and then tied to round wooden posts. Her fingers were wrapped
around the silk knots and then bound to them with a small piece of silk
fabric. Her ankles were also tied with silk and tethered to the ground
behind her. A silk gag muffled her voice. She wondered how many others were
with her in the chilly room besides those she could see and tried to listen
for their breathing by quieting her own. It occurred to her that the others
might be doing the same and that she would not hear them because of it.
Nevertheless, she still tried to listen for them.
When she heard footsteps approaching, she sighed, as much as she could sigh,
and hoped that she would be attended soon. She felt rough hands upon her
breasts and long fingers pinching her nipples. She moaned as her nipples
hardened. Rough hands grabbed her thighs and parted them. A long supple
tongue darted between her legs teasing her silky mound. She wanted the
tongue inside her, but it did not enter. She writhed where she stood and
struggled against her bonds. “Take me,” her muffled voice pleaded through
the silk. Her plea fell upon deaf ears as the footsteps wandered off.
She listened as the footsteps moved somewhere behind her. She heard the rush
of moving air and the crack of leather hitting flesh. She heard the muffled
screams of another captive and knew that she was not alone then. She counted
each stroke of the strap as it struck its target. She wanted to know what to
expect when it was her turn. “…Eight, nine, ten. Exactly ten strokes.” She
made a note of that for future reference.
She listened as the footfalls moved again and stopped somewhere else behind
her in the room. She heard the thud of a wooden paddle accompanied by loud
moans as another captive received her treatment. She counted again, “seven,
eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. It had been ten before.” It occurred to
her that it was useless to count but she would continue anyway. It was
something to do. The feet moved again and she heard the rush of a cane and
the sharp crack of its impact on flesh. “…Five, six, seven. Seven with the
cane, ten with the strap, twelve with the paddle, at least this time. And
three others in the room, maybe more.” She strained to listen, trying to
figure out where the next captive stood in the room. She heard the footsteps
disappear and tried to relax.
She couldn’t relax. The space between her legs ached for attention. Her
juices dripped down her thighs. Her nipples throbbed. Her back began to warm
in anticipation. “What would it be?” She wondered, “When would it be?”
She turned her head toward the approaching sound of footsteps, hoping to get
a glimpse of her captor but all she saw was a purple robe approaching a
nearby girl. She watched as he removed the girl’s gag. He pulled aside her
hair and then took the tagger to her ear. She was a new addition and he had
wanted to hear her cry out in pain when the needle penetrated the lobe. The
young girl begged to be released. She struggled against her gag to offer
kind assurances to the young girl. “Don’t be afraid,” her voice struggled
through the muffling silk. She smiled as the girl wept.
The purple-robed Master turned toward her and, seeing her smile, came over
to her. “You remember this?” he asked, pointing toward the frightened girl.
“Yes, my Lord,” her muffled voice replied as dragged the braided whip across
her breasts, teasing her nipples. “I remember being afraid,” she continued
as he loosened her gag, “but there was nothing to fear.” Her legs spread to
accept the braided leather as he slipped the rough handle of the whip
between her legs. . “I remember the first sting of the whip and the tears I
shed.” He smiled as he cracked the whip against her belly. She continued, “I
remember the first time that I found pleasure in the whip.” He walked behind
her and began to whip her while she uttered through her moans of pleasure,
"I remember it all..."
She could feel the flesh on her lower back begin to flush, to sting, but it was not painful...it was exhilarating. It made her feel alive and thus the pleasure was the most pure that she'd had ever felt. Her captor always knew just how much pressure to apply to each stroke of the whip so as to be just under bareable. The feeling of being suspended by the ropes and blinded by the blindfold heightened every sensation.
He reveled in knowing that he had finally found his concubine. The one that could withstand him, the one that would enjoy him, that one that would make HIM feel alive...
His attention was fully on HER now...the lovely, alabaster redhaired vixen that had so captured his thoughts. From the first time he'd tested her, she moaned through her tears. Her craveness was obvious even then to a trained eye. The way she would cry out, and thrust her pelvis into the air with each stroke of the rough leather upon her clit. The way she would moan, that deep, sensual moan every time he would strike her buttocks. Oh yes, he knew what she enjoyed, he knew she enjoyed being free to be craven. He knew that eventually he would show himself to her, to lay her down and love her properly.
But for now...he had one more test to administer...could he break her? Did she have a breaking point. He must discover if she can outlast him.
He took up the whip, and made his way toward her......
She could hear his footsteps again, more angry sounding this time...determined. She braced against his swing, this one more painful than most. Again he swug, with earnest...the pain seared through her. She must not let him break her, she thought.
She moaned with the thrid swing, screamed with the thirteenth, and was silent with the twentieth, and still he swug.
Finally he stopped, sounding exhausted. She could feel him behind her, his chest heaving and falling with his steady breath. That very breath now brushing across the back of her neck...and even after being nearly beaten, she could feel the moisture gathering between her thighs. This man was intoxicating.
With the last of her strength, she leaned as far back into him as she could reach and simply whispered..."Now we are slave to eachother...".
He untied her bonds slowly, careful not to cause her any discomfort. She had passed all of his tests, he would show her only pleasure now. He had chosen at long last. All of the other girls were set free, and now this one would be forever pampered. He held her body in his arms, and laid her gingerly down onto the cold, damp concrete, covering her in his cloak. He knelt and picked her up and carried her out of the room.
She began to roam in and out of conciousness as she felt herself being carried somewhere. Somewhere...upstairs. Finally she heard a door open and she felt the softness of a downy bed beneath her as he laid her down. She had not even realized yet that her bindings and blindfold were gone. She could finally see him. She opened her eyes and he had his back to her, she watched in wonder as he turned toward her............
COMMENTS
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darkdethbaal
10:19 Sep 12 2008
I love it sweetie
martin
17:59 Sep 07 2009
oh yeah