Part VII
Her
"Angel, for that is my name for you tonight, your Master is about to
begin."
The words...your words...echo repeatedly in my mind, between my legs, and
in the very pit of my stomach. Have I chosen well this night? Will I be
able to suffer the divine torture that is at hand without crying for mercy?
Will I account myself well? Will I please my Master?
The bench, now warmed by the heat of my flesh... moistened by the mingled
flow from my body, has become a safe haven to me...a thing that is known in
a place both foreign and terrifying. Oh!...to rest here...never to face
what will occur this night. Could I ask for more? But I know it is not to
be, for even as I play desperately with these thoughts, my Master unbinds
me...yet another trial awaits.
My hair has become a second leash...a handle by which I find myself
controlled...manipulated...molded into acquiescence.
"Kneel. Show me your tongue" I hear you say, your words slicing through the
darkness behind my blindfold like red-hot pokers. My tongue? My hands long
to reach out...my lips to embrace...but I am barred from such contact. My
tongue, and that alone must suffice. I am bewildered... lost...deprived of
the sensual interface which I crave...but I obey. I have no choice.
Restrained by your fingers, woven brutally through the locks of my hair, I
extend the warm, pink digit from between my lips and feel the salty taste
of your hardened member against its surface. Hungrily I swirl my tongue
along your pulsating shaft...longing for a reward perhaps?
[Am I doing well, my Master? Do I please you? May I now...]
But as quickly as it began, it's over, and I once again I feel myself
propelled, directed, forced across the room by your unseen hand. I feel the
tension build between my thighs...moisture flowing wantonly, a sensuous
silkiness that floods my deprived senses.
Something hard...cold presses against my abdomen, and I find myself
positioned awkwardly over some sort of barrier. My wrists are once more
fettered, and I recall the voice of my aerobics instructor bidding us to
"touch (our) toes". I feel my ankles being forced apart once again, and
secured "spread-eagle" on the far side of this strange and chill instrument
of my undoing. Once more I am humiliated... exposed as my posterior region
is laid open before your gaze.
The blood rushes to my head, and I strain my neck upward to clear my
thoughts...free myself from the pounding between my ears. Where are
You...my Master? What is to be my fate in this most uncomfortable of
postures? What do you...
"OH!"
I cry out as you penetrate me brutally from behind...the long, hard length
of you thrusting deeply within my moist, trembling core. Once more. And
again. You take no quarter, and I ask none, as you pound relentlessly into
my belly. My cries begin to take on a different timbre, as I attempt to
thrust against you...to hold you fast...to milk the essence from your body
and into my own. But once again my pleas fall on deaf ears... I am
thwarted... my prize is stolen from me, and I am destitute with the yawning
chasm of my desire left empty and abandoned.
"Show me your tongue," you demand once more.
Obediently, I comply. Perhaps this time...?
And then I taste the sweet tang of my own juices, served up on a bed of
hardened flesh. Should I be repulsed? I know that I should, but this
contact...any contact indeed, has become an obsession. And so I extend my
tongue and taste what is offered me...gratefully...hungrily...lustily,
seeking more but restrained always by your unseen hand. Surely now I will
be allowed to...
"No!" [Your voice or my own?]
Again, as before, I am deprived even the most bestial of pleasures as my
bonds are released and I am propelled to yet another destination in this
seductive chamber of horrors. My legs begin to tremble, and my "safe word"
rises to my lips.
[Mercy]
I feel my body again restrained, my quivering legs forced apart and the
cold shackles of my next trial set in place. Can you see the unfettered
flow of my juices down the insides of my thighs...do you care...is it
allowed? A flush overcomes me. What do you think of me now?
My arms are likewise raised, and again I feel my freedom diminished by cold
steel, boundaries both cruel and unbreakable. My vulnerability overcomes
me. The helpless plight of my beleaguered limbs...my body... evokes a dim
terror deep in my bowels. Surely now I must cry out for respite? I feel my
tears curling softly down my cheeks...wetting the silk which now clings in
sodden folds against my skin. Perhaps my Master will see my plight and take
pity?
But something inside of me will not allow me to use the one thing that
could mean my salvation...[mercy]...and then that too is taken away.
Roughly, I feel the soft, leather sac of a gag being forced between my
teeth.
"No," I scream, but my cries are stifled...held fast by this newest of
torments. Fear overcomes me. What of my "safe word"? Has my one and only
power, the one security to which I cling been taken from me?
I flex my wrists, my legs pumping uselessly beneath me. This was not our
deal...not in the silent bargain we'd struck at all. My options have been
obliterated...my "kill switch" disabled. I am at your mercy...and I fear
that you have none to give. I hear my voice, a muted scream lost in the
thick padding of this terrifying room you have designed.
"Please...no...no! Mercy!"
But my cried go unheard...swallowed up by the leather sac which presses
swollenly against my tongue. Hope crashes around me, destroyed by the
desperate terror, which dominates it.
And then I hear your voice parting the silence. A reprieve. Three nods, and
I will be spared. A mere three nods and all of this will be but a tortured,
erotic memory. Three nods and I will be once more free from this nightmare.
But I cannot.
Something inside of me forbids me to acquiesce...forbids me to seek the
shelter that I should crave so desperately. I will cry out...of that I am
certain. I will test my bonds with tortured limbs, struggling for the
freedom that three nods alone can give me. But I will not...cannot commit
the act that will win me my release. You have branded me in places most
invisible. I am Yours.
I nod my head once, and await the touch of my Master.
