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Sunday, January 01, 2006
Day #9: Affirmation
"I love causing you pain, slave girl," he said as they laid on the bed together. He was running his hand up and down her back and thighs, making her flinch every time he touched one of the spots where the whip had hit her. "I love the look on your face, and the sound of your cries. I love knowing that whatever I want to do to you you will take for me." he continued. Whenever he shifted his body she would recoil slightly, expecting another strike. He laughed whenever he saw her cringe, knowing that he had taught her to do that from their many previous times together.
He hadn't tied her up this time; he liked seeing the way she moved when the rubber tails of the whip struck her skin. Her face would twist up as she struggled to hold the position he'd put her in. He had learned to read the sounds that she made so that he would know when they were nearing her breaking point. Each time he pushed her just a little bit farther, a little bit closer. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more he'd be there, wrapped completely around her. She was always reaching for his hands, entwining their fingers together as the beating rained down. Now she was face down on the bed, he was straddling her lower back. It was a familiar position, but his imagination never failed to find some new torture for her.
"What are you?!" he yelled, reaching around to her chin and forcing her head back.
"Your slave," she answered quickly, her back arched to its limit.
"What is your purpose?"
"To please you." Soft whimpers where interspersed between her words.
"Will you ever tell me no?"
"No, Master."
They had this conversation often. It was somewhat of a reaffirmation for both of them, and each of them found a strange comfort in it.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Day #10: The Party
She saw him out of the corner of her eye - just a glimpse, once glance to feel him there, all around her. She always knew exactly where to find him if he was in the club. The baseball cap a dead giveaway, sports jacket, button-up shirt dominated by the color pink. Sometimes he'd come down nearer to her, but she liked it better when he stayed away from all the other girls. She couldn't stand knowing that he wasn't hers; sparks of jealousy easily ignited within her.
That night, however, she was doomed to be brazen.
"Happy New Year, baby," he said, turning to her, "You look pretty tonight."
"Thank you," she said, pausing. He seemed a little different, something not quite right. Then finally, "Can I take a picture with you?"
"Yeah, come sit on my lap," he said, reaching his hands out to her. She sat down and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head against his. She inhaled the scent of his familiar cologne deeply as if it was as life-giving as oxygen. As the flash of the picture went off she felt him pull her closer.
"Let's have a New Year's kiss," he said enthusiastically. The moment the words had escaped his lips she felt his mouth press against hers. She closed her eyes and watched tiny stars rearrange into scattered constellations behind her eyelids as his tongue parted her lips and delved into her mouth.
When she finally stood and retrieved her camera from a nearby friend, she felt dizzy and breathless.
"Are we still on for tomorrow?" she asked softly, leaning over to speak directly into his ear.
"Yes, I get off at ten."
"Okay." She walked away then, away from his touch as her heart screamed at her to stay with him. She missed the feeling of his warm embrace immediately. Sounds of the dance floor spiraled around her. People jumping, hands in the air. The floor beneath her was sticky and strewn with multi-colored confetti. She sighed, knowing the night would be good but not quite what she was looking for.
--
"Come downstairs with me," she said to him, reaching for his hand. He followed, not offering any resistance. They walked down the long, meandering hallways covered with matted red carpet and enclosed by white stuccoed walls peppered with graffiti.
"Where are we going?" he asked, not really looking for an answer. When they reached the point where their path split he spun her around and slammed her against the wall with his body. They kissed again, this time not because of love but because of reckless animal need. He forced her head back by yanking her hair down, and she felt some of the strands snap under his iron grip.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard tomorrow," he breathed into her ear as he pressed his hips against hers, "you better be ready for me. I want to hear you beg."
Her eyes widened as she listened to him speak. She drank in every word that he said to her, ready to fall to her knees at the slightest suggestion from him to do so.
Someday...someday, she thought, we'll be more than this.
The club that night was like a whirlwind, empty, dark, pulsing, panoptic. The floor tacky beneath all the painted toenails in high heeled sandals. She finished the drink in her hand and walked back upstairs. "Tomorrow," she murmured, "tomorrow maybe we'll be more than this.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Day #11: Tomorrow
She pointed her finger at him and beckoned him down the stairs toward her. He slid down a couple of steps and resumed smoking the half burned down cigarette between his fingers, looking at her out of the corner of his eye but still remaining silent.
"You still busy?" she asked, trying to get as close to him as she could.
"Why do you want two minutes to dance with me?" he replied, staring intently at the floor about six feet past her.
"I don't want to dance with you, I just want two minutes to talk to you."
"Ok."
"You gotta know how I feel about you right?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Well..." she stumbled over the words, "we'd be great together, you know. I mean, how can people who have such great sex not be good together in everything else?"
"It's you," he answered, finally looking at her.
"What?"
"I don't know if you noticed, but I don't have very much confidence in myself. That's why I'm always dancing up here and not on the floor."
"I like it when you stay up here. When I see you dancing with other girls I do this kind of internal combustion thing..." she trailed off, not knowing if she was getting through to him.
"I've seen," he answered, smiling a little bit. "But it's okay for you to dance with other guys?"
"Whatever, I'm always over here begging for a second of your time, but you don't want to give it to me." She wanted to stop herself and just walk away to save the shreds of dignity that she might have had left, but the alcohol coursing through her system kept her feet firmly planted right next to him. "You know how I feel about you," she added, immediately rolling her eyes and realizing she'd been repeated that to him all night. "Just tell me the truth about how you feel."
"I told you. I told you two months ago."
"I know. I know you're busy. You can't talk to me like I don't know what busy is. I make time for the things that I want, and everything about you...that's all I've ever wanted in someone." She didn't know why she fought so hard for him. Maybe it was a dream, something she'd idealized him to be that wasn't truly there in reality. He just looked at her, his face completely void of emotion or expression.
"I'm leaving on Wednesday for six weeks," he finally said.
"What?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you just telling me this now?"
"I just found out."
"Ok."
"Don't be like that."
"Can you come over tomorrow?"
"What is tomorrow? Sunday? Okay, I don't have to work."
"Good, I'll see you then."
He stood up and she reached out for his hand as he turned to walk back up the stairs. Their fingers touched, just for a brief second before he pulled his hand out of hers. She felt the loss flow from her like liquid as she circled the floor and returned to her friends. A good night again, but still not what she was hoping for.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Day #12: Obedience
"Get down on your knees," he said as she met him at the door, "take off my shoes and tell me how much you missed me."
She fell to her knees almost before the words left his mouth. As she reached forward to untie the muddied laces of his sneakers she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here with me, Master, I missed you very much."
"Good slave," he said, looking down at her and stroking her golden hair. His voice sent shivers through her. The smooth sound of it was something that could never be matched on the phone or through emails.
When she'd finished with his shoes she stood and walked with him over to the couch, letting him lay down and taking her usual place on the floor.
"Take off your clothes," he said nonchalantly. She reached for the top button on her caramel hued khakis, but was stopped abruptly by his hand reaching out to grab her wrist. "No, stand up first." She obeyed, feeling a tinge of embarrassment run through her as she began to undress with the bright light of her torchiere illuminating her entire body. She pulled her pink, long-sleeved shirt over her head and let it drop through her fingers onto the floor. Her gaze locked on his eyes as she watched him explore her svelte body. She bent over all the way to the floor as she slid her pants off, giving him a uninhibited view of her slim profile. She reached to remove her tiny white cotton thong, the one that he'd instructed her to wear, but again he stopped her.
"Leave it on, it looks good on you," he said in that same intoxicating voice that made her completely his. "I want you to get some things for me. Go to the bedroom and get the rope, the handcuffs, the whip, and the belt."
"Yes, Master," she replied quickly, running off to get what he'd asked for. When she returned to him she saw that he'd brought over a chair from her dining room table and placed in about a foot in front of the couch. It was an armless chair made of brushed chrome and dark blue microfiber upholstery. He'd situated it such that the back of the chair was to the right. She was curious, but simply set down the equipment in front of him and waited for further instruction.
"Lay down on the chair, slave,"
She walked over to it, unsure of exactly what he wanted her to do.
"I want you facing away from me. Put your stomach down on it, reach down the other side and grab the bottom of the legs."
As she laid across it, he came around to the other side of her and began to tie her wrists to the chair legs. She could just barely press her palms to the floor and still have her knees touching the floor on the other side. When he'd finished, he asked, "can you move your arms?"
She tried squirming a little bit, but found herself tightly bound in place. She was resting her chin on the very edge of the padded seat, her hair flooding over her face so that all she could see was the carpet below her. Content that she was now his captive, he stood and walked behind her to sit on the couch. She realized he must have had quite a view of her, her ass in the air and her legs spread to keep her balance.
Then, to her surprise, he reached for the tv remote and flipped it on. She could hear the sounds of a football game just beginning. Her ears perked at the announcer's voice. Washington versus Tampa Bay, playoffs. It was quite another surprise when she felt him set his legs down on her back, relegating her to a footrest.
"Are you comfortable, slut?" he asked, his eyes remaining focused on the television.
"Yes, Master," she said without a thought. The truth was that the extra weight of his legs was pushing her hips almost unbearably into the chrome frame of the chair. Her wrists were bent back at ninety degrees to help her stay upright, and her hands were already beginning feel cold from the lack of circulation. She tried to find a comfortable way to rest her head, but the seat of the chair just wasn't large enough to support the length of her torso.
"Good bitch, I'm going to leave you like this for a while. You make a very good footrest for me."
"Thank you, Master," she replied, shifting a little from side to side still trying to relieve some of the aching in her body.
"Stop moving!" he yelled, pulling his feet back and bringing the whip cracking down on her upper back. She hadn't even realized he'd been holding it in his hand. She whimpered at the sudden blow, thrilling him. He loved the sound of her pain more than almost anything else. The delicious noises she made when he hit her only served to egg him on. He dragged the tails of the whip across her back and let them fall down her thighs and between her legs, watching her shiver. Every once in a while he would bring the whip up into the air, but would always wait an indefinite amount of time before bringing it down again, savoring the look of her tensed body as she tried to stay still for him.
When he'd striped her body with red welts to his satisfaction, he set the whip down at his side and bent down over her, covering her almost entirely.
"You love it when your master beats you, don't you, slut," he said into her ear, not giving the slightest hint that it was anything more than a statement of fact.
"Yes, Master."
He roamed his strong hands over her helplessly tied body, savoring the feel of her soft, silky skin. He stopped when he reached the tiny waistband of her thong and sighed, breathing into her ear. "You look so good in this, I think I'll just leave you tied to this chair for a while so I can look at your ass pointed up in the air for me any time I feel like it." He pulled his hand back and swatted her bare bottom fiercely. She yelped, trying desperately not to move. He leaned back as he watched the red outline of his hand appear. First a pale red eventually blending into a medley of dark, deep purples. He delighted in the way she bruised so easily for him.
He back off her again and drew the fingernails of his right hand up her inner thigh, leaving five crimson streaks in his wake. When he reached the top of her thigh, he slid two fingers underneath the skimpy fabric of her panties and began to stoke back and forth, covering his fingers in her slick juices.
"Mmmm slave," he moaned, "you're so wet for me already, you must really love this." He continued rubbing, his rhythmic motions sending her head spinning as he avoided all of the spots he knew were the most sensitive on her. She tried to press against his hand but could only grind her hips deeper into the metal frame of the chair. Her moans were thick with frustration as she sought just the slightest release from this new, spine-tingling torture.
"You've been a really good girl for me tonight, not even one complaint about the chair," he said in a deep, low voice. It was a tone that elicited complete and utter control over her every sensibility. He brought his hand around to her mouth and she eagerly licked it clean just the way he had taught her to do, tasting the sweetness of her own arousal. He felt himself start to become hard as her tongue glided over him. The sheer visual appeal of her desperate situation made it almost impossible for him to keep from fucking her immediately. But he knew he had to wait, there was so much more he wanted to do with her before the night was over. Pulling away from her, he resumed his seat on the couch and put his legs up on her back once again. She didn't understand why, but somehow this strange humiliation sent waves of desire through her.
An hour or so passed before he finally spoke to her again. By now her hands and legs were shaking, and a glossy sheen of sweat covered her forehead from the extra strain of breathing with her chest pressed down into the seat cushion by his legs.
"Are you uncomfortable, slut?"
"No, Master," came an instant reply.
"Good girl. I'm going to untie you now and I want you to crawl to the bedroom and lay down on the bed," he said as he knelt down in front of her and began to undo the knots about her wrists. He felt how cold her hands were and wondered if they were numb, but did not ask. When he'd removed the rope he gathered her long hair in one of his hands and yanked her head back. Without warning he laid a heavy slap on her cheek with his other hand, bringing forth a sharp cry through clenched teeth from her. He grabbed her chin and forced it up.
"Look at me," he said, staring into glassy eyes. "I'm going to beat the shit out of you tonight and you are going to love every minute of it, got that bitch?"
"Yes, Master, " she answered, now visibly shaking.
"Okay, now go do what I told you to do," he said as he stood and picked up the belt and the handcuffs from the couch. "Bring the rope too," he added.
She gathered the white nylon rope in her hands and quickly made her way to the bedroom on her hands and knees. She heard him walking up behind her as she passed through the doorway, and was about to get up to move onto the bed she felt the leather of the belt drive deep into the skin of her lower back. Her head immediately hit the floor as she collapsed with the weight of the completely unexpected strike, and a loud, low groan escaped her lips. For a moment she couldn't move, the pain completely encompassing her body and leaving her falling hopelessly into the depths of the most brutal anguish. He stood behind her sporting a broad smile and watching the beautiful agony on her face as she tried so hopelessly to pick herself back up off the floor. The belt now hung loosely, innocently from his left hand. He'd been winding up for the blow for several feet before he reached her, almost breaking out into a jog behind her to add a little extra momentum.
"Get the fuck off the floor, cunt. I told you to get on the bed!" he growled at her, reaching under her body and shoving her up toward the mattress.
As she landed on the soft plush blanket spread across her large bed, she was almost confused by the sudden feeling of comfort on her skin. But the confusion didn't last, however, as within a moment he was on top of her, ripping the nylon out of her hands and pulling loose the pieces that he would need. He wrapped a length of the rope around his waist, secured it with a knot, and then tied the other end around her wrists leaving about ten inches of length between her hands and his torso, and a long piece hanging loose at the end so that he could pull on her if he needed to. He rolled off of her onto his back and she scrambled to her knees to keep from being dragged by her wrists.
"Pull the thong off and get on top of me," he ordered, interested to see how she would fair in taking off her panties while her wrists bound to him as they were. She squirmed on the bed, eventually pulling the thin fabric down her thighs and using her feet to get them the rest of the way off. As she straddled him, he began to pump his cock inside her, drawing out a long series of moans from her.
"Fuck me," he said, bring his thrusting to a slow halt, "fuck your Master."
She began to bounce up and down, riding him almost uncontrollably as she began to feel pulsating waves of pleasure mount within her. Her thighs shook with the exertion of repeatedly lifting her body without her hands to help support her. After several minutes of this her muscles burned so badly she didn't think she could continue for much longer. Sensing her fatigue he pulled her toward him, pressing their chests together.
"Just lay for a minute," he whispered, "just lay."
She was breathing hard now, her aching limbs pleading with her to rest. She nuzzled her head up against his neck and felt him wrap his arms around her as she drew in long breaths. For a moment she thought she might have drifted into a shallow sleep, but was quickly reminded of what she was doing when he pulled her back up by her hair.
"Fuck, I'm getting soft," he snarled at her. "What's the matter with you, are you not a good fuck, girl? Can't even keep your master hard?"
With that last stabbing remark he brought his hands in violent slaps across the sweet skin of her face three times in succession, once from the left, then the right, then the left again. It something he hadn't done since the first night they were together, and it sent a torrent of electrifying pain through her. As she looked down at him, he thought she looked so sublime: on the verge of tears at her failure, willing to do anything to please him. He reached up for her and brought her face down next to his once again, his lips right up against her ear.
In the softest voice he could manage he whispered to her, "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, the only woman I ever want. When we aren't together you are always on my mind, always in my heart. I love you so much, baby." He granted her a brief moment to let the words sink in before he pushed her back up.
"Now try again cunt," he said, bringing her hips down on his cock again. They continued like this for a while until he'd exhausted every shred of resistance she might have had left in her. When he was satisfied he lifted her up and rolled on top of her. He picked up a black satin blindfold from the corner of the bed and fastened it around her head.
"Can you see?" he asked. She shook her head. "Good." Unfastening the knot at his waist, he pulled her off the bed and over to the bed room door. He looped the long free end of the rope over the top of the door and tied it to the knob on the other side., forcing her to stretch her arms high over her head and lift her heels off the floor. He shut the door and pressed her face first up against it. The sudden cold of of the wood against her skin sent a shock through her body making her suddenly more alert.
He backed away from her and surveyed his work. Her long arms were stretched above her, the muscles of her shoulders hazily outlined in the deep shadows draped over her from the dim light of the bedroom. He could see the amethyst colored slash on her lower back where he'd hit her with the belt. 'Beautiful,' he thought, but this canvas was still almost completely untouched. Several deep breaths helped him calm himself. He didn't want anything to happen too fast tonight. It would be a test of endurance for both of them.
She felt the smooth satin of the blindfold against her closed eyes, the icy wooden door pressing up against her bare skin, the nylon rope digging into her wrists and forcing her hands as high as she could possibly reach. She knew he was behind her somewhere, but couldn't make out his exact position. She wondered for a moment if not knowing what was coming was good or bad, easier or more difficult. All she could do was let go of herself and let it happen. Surrender.
"Every time I hit you I want you to say 'More please, Master," she heard him command from over her right shoulder. He was so close now that she could feel his breath on her neck. He didn't touch her but his smooth voice wrapped around her from every direction, holding her as tightly as the rope.
The force of the first blow took her by surprise, the balls of her feet digging into the floor to keep her balance as her body wracked against the pain.
"More please, Master," she said, her voice calm and stable. A practiced response.
Again and again and again the strokes of the belt came, and still she asked for more. Eventually the satin blindfold drifted it's way down until it settled around her neck, but she wasn't sure if this new sense was a gift or a curse. Out of the corner of her right eye she could see him winding up, and she couldn't help but tense up in anticipation.
"You know it hurts so much more when you tense like that. Do you need the blindfold again?"
"No, Master."
She stood defiant despite her desperate situation, despite the fact that they could could both feel her wearing down more and more each minute the assault continued.
"How much will you take for me, little girl?" he asked, standing next to her now but still being careful not to graze her skin and take away from the sensations of the red welts now covering most of her back and thighs.
"I'm less fragile than you think I am," she replied, shaking slightly.
He laughed at that, admiring her strong-willed attitude because he knew he could break it.
"You don't think you'd cry for me?"
There was a pause, then, "no, Master."
"Oh you will, you will cry. I've only just begun tearing you down tonight, slave."
With that he stepped back and sent the belt wailing through the air again, letting it wrap around her midsection and deliver most of its force at the very tip. He saw her face twist in pain, but before it could develop fully he had whipped the belt against her again, this time wrapping around her other side. She opened her mouth but no words came out, only gasping breaths tinged in absolute torment.
"I told you to ask for more!" he snapped. In one stride he was behind her, digging his fingernails into her upper back and dragging them down across the multitude of stripes and bruises cries-crossing her skin.
She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid at the same time that her acquiescence would cause him to continue or to stop. The pain raged through her like a wild-fire, unending and terrifying, but someone how she couldn't let it go, didn't want to let it go.
"M..more p..please...Master," she managed to eke out, stumbling over the words.
"Mmm, my little slut likes the pain so much she can hardly speak. How exquisite," he said as he reached for the doorknob and pulled the door back, causing her to jump. "We'll see how much you like what I have planned for you next."
He untied the rope from the other side of the door and brought the long strands back around to the front, pushing the door shut again and leading her toward the middle of the room.
"Put your arms up in the air," he said facing her as they stood next to the bed. He was still holding the belt, neatly folded in half and loosely hanging at his side. She obeyed, stretching her lithe body out as far as she could, but when she saw him bring the belt over his shoulder to hit her again, fear overpowered her and she stepped back, bringing her arms into her chest. The look he gave her then might have been worth the pain of the belt, she thought as she stared into his fiercely blue eyes. He didn't say a word.
"Sorry..." she trailed off, stepping cautiously forward again and replacing her hands in the air. Behind his stone cold stare he was laughing at her now, knowing that it wouldn't take much more.
When the belt struck her skin again, this time right between her breasts with a force that seemed to mimick a freight train, she found herself almost immediately on the ground. Her knees slammed into the carpet, her bound wrists between the floor and her forehead.
He set the belt down on the bed and bent down to pick her up, lifting her onto the bed and laying her on her back. She opened her eyes to look up at him and felt a tidal wave of lust flowing down onto her. She reached up to touch his face, her wrists still tied tightly together, but he caught her arms and forced them back over her head.
"Oh no, girl, you aren't done yet. Don't move," he said, reaching across the bed for another piece of rope. He wrapped it around her ankles several times and knotted it, then grabbed the strand connected to her wrists and began to tug them both toward him. As she slid across the bed she only had a moment to realize what was going to happen before she felt her body crash into the ground at the side of the bed. She heard him laugh sadistically as he lifted her legs high into the air and picked up the belt once more. Now she had full view of exactly what was happening to her, and decided instantly that the blindfold made things much easier to take. He brought the belt down on the back of her upper thighs, creating a spine-tingling, wrenching sensation throughout her entire body. Within moments of this new position she was a tangled mess of incoherent sobs, but still he didn't stop. From above her the belt rained down, digging further into her soul with every stoke.
It would be a good five minutes before he felt her try to kick her legs free of his grasp. He let go and she rolled over onto her side, curling into a ball and pressing her face against her hands.
"Please..." she begged him, her voice cracking, her cheeks now tear stained and red.
The belt dropped from his hand and he knelt down, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes before kissing her forehead. He laid down next to her and held her against his chest as the tears continued to stream down her face. She was shaking almost inconsolably, but seemed to be calming ever so slightly now that his arms were wrapped tightly around her.
"Amazing," he whispered to her, "simply amazing."
Even after all the time they'd spent together and everything they'd been through, she had never been more completely his than at that very moment. They slept together on floor that night, entangled so deeply in each other that nothing could have pulled them apart.
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