by Sean O'Kane
Angel felt the ground slope down more steeply and tried to mumble through the mouthpiece, to whimper and beg. Where was she being taken?
At last she felt his hand on her arm and for a fleeting second was grateful for the contact. One ear pad was unzipped slightly and the press studs across her mouth.
“Do you trust me?” Lang’s voice whispered close beside her.
For a moment she almost burst into hysterical laughter. Was he mad? But common sense kicked in just in time.
“Oh yes!” she gushed. “Yes, and you can trust me too. Just let me see and I won’t make a sound I promise!” Never had sight seemed so important as it did now in the Stygian black, leather smelling claustrophobic darkness.
He laughed and his touch was gone and the pads were refastened.
She felt a tug on her leash and a sharp point touched her ribs. Her mind filled with images of the huge knife she had seen him heft. Sobbing she felt ahead of her with one foot. The ground seemed alright. She slid her other foot up to it and felt ahead again. It felt like wood now. Narrow, just about as wide as her foot. She felt wind against her skin and the ear pad was undone a little. She heard water. How far beneath her was it?
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall if you follow me.” Again the leash was tugged and she shuffled on. The wood trembled and she screamed. His hand was on her arm again.
“Two more paces, Angel. I won’t allow you to fall.”
She sobbed again, seeing in her mind’s eye the tumbling waters of a mountain stream rushing below her, she had seen them on the way up here. This must be some kind of fragile plank he had rigged up to terrify her. Well it was working, she felt as if she would wet herself as she slid her foot forward again and then again and then there was grass under her feet. Her sobs turned to laughter and she would have collapsed to her knees if she had dared.
So far so good, Peter thought as he watched her. He kept hold of the leash and went forward to stroke her for a bit. The plank she had crossed was two feet long and three feet above the water, her own mind had done the rest. But working to her logic he needed to congratulate her and reinforce the fact that no matter what danger she was in; he wouldn’t let her fall.
For Angel the torment was an eternity. The noise of her blood and her breathing filled her ears. Timidly she followed the insistent pull between her legs. When the urge to pee got too bad she stopped and refused to move. He took the leash from between her legs and with his hand led her to somewhere where she was made to squat. For all she knew there could have been thousands of grinning spectators and for a long time her bladder refused to work. But once it had, to add to her complete humiliation, she felt him dry her with some leaves, before he stood her up, passed the lead between her legs and led her on. They went uphill at times and at others they seemed to be on the level but always she proceeded at a terrified shuffle.
Then at last she was allowed to kneel. Her leash was dropped and she was able to relish the relative security of not having to move forwards into darkness. She gathered that he was moving about, from time to time she would feel faint vibrations in the ground beside her, sometimes there would be a brush of cloth against her.
Then finally, just as she was about to shiver, she felt warmth. He had lit a fire. Soon he came to sit beside her and unzipped her mouth covering and one ear pad. Then he fed her from his hand. She was too exhausted from fear to complain and at least if he was feeding her it meant he wasn’t about to do anything terrible to her. Didn’t it?
When she was feeling a little better, he helped her to come a little closer to the fire. She heard it crackling, quite close. She tried to hang back.
“Trust me, Angel!” he urged her. “If not I’ll have to punish you!”
A storm of revolt flared up in her. He was not going to punish her! How dare he! She wasn’t some subby bitch cowering before her master, she shook free of his grip for a second and threw herself back onto the cool grass. His hand was around her ankle instantly.
“Now I will have to!” he said quietly.
Wriggling and writhing as best she could, she fought him until she was bound to a tree with her ankles secured to the trunk and her hands wrenched up behind her, making her bend forwards. Her breasts hung full and vulnerable beneath her. He stroked and caressed them to underline that point. Suddenly it seemed to Angel as if there were no more fear she could feel. She crumbled into abject crying as she knew that whatever he was going to do to her poor breasts, there was nothing she could do about it.
She felt a growing warmth come towards her chest. She screamed as a source of heat came closer and closer. She tugged at her bonds and begged for mercy. Then there was an appalling, blinding pain at her left nipple and she reared in despair and panic. But it came again at her right nipple. Horror after horror fled through her shattered mind. What had he done to her?
There was absolute stillness and as she calmed, a new sensation filtered through into her brain. Her nipples were dripping something cold. She sagged in her bonds and shamelessly let her bladder go. She had done similar things in dungeons before. Mindfucking helpless subs into believing that what they were feeling was intense heat when in fact it was just an ice cube. Lang must have soaked something in a stream to chill it, then with one hand held a taper and with the other touched her with something cold.
“Why!?” she groaned as she felt him clean her up again and then release her and bring her back to kneel by the fire.
He unzipped her ear pad more fully.
“Because you must trust me. Every slave must trust her master absolutely.”
“I’m not your bloody slave! I’m nobody’s slave!”
“Not yet,” he agreed calmly. “But you’re not really a dominant are you?”
“What do you mean?” It came out more petulantly and more sharply then she had meant and for a second she cringed in case he punished her again.
He laughed softly. “No, I’m not going to punish you. But you haven’t been honest have you? I’ve always seen it in you. Tell me about subs and slaves. You like them don’t you?”
The direction of the conversation was so unexpected it was a blessed relief.
“Yes,” she conceded. “I like the way their bodies move when I play with them. I like to watch them come when I beat them or use needles.”
“You like their pain?”
“I like the way they enjoy the pain and the way some can’t get enough of being humiliated.”
“You’ve been humiliated today. Did you like it?”
Angel was stopped in her tracks. She had been reduced to a stumbling wreck behind this man, she had pissed in front of him, he had cleaned her up. And every touch of his hand had been heavenly relief from the isolation of the hood.
“No!” she shook her head furiously.
He laughed in that irritating, quiet way of his and she realised she was listening to him more closely than she had ever listened to anyone before. She was hearing his breathing, she had noticed the way his breath caught just a little before he spoke. The timbre of his voice was deeper and more relaxed than it had been.
“How do you know you’re a domme, Angel?”
That at least was easy.
It had been at school. Her parents were abroad – as always – and hadn’t been able to get back to pick her up form boarding school at the end of the summer term in her final year before university.
The school hadn’t minded her staying on for a few days and she had enjoyed herself, swimming, running, working out in the gym and having the television all to herself in the evenings.
One day she had been showering off after coming back from a run when Miss Lukins had walked in, quite naked and taken the shower opposite her.
“You don’t mind do you Angela?” she had asked. “Only they’ve turned our showers off for the holidays and I’ve just had a run too.”
Miss Lukins was one of the more popular teachers, a fresh-faced graduate in political history whose enthusiasm
for her subject would turn out to have helped Angel to an A grade.
They had dressed and chatted and gradually Angel’s shyness had evaporated. Of course she was perfectly used to being naked with her fellow students, although she had never indulged in some of the after-lights-out under the blankets explorations that she knew did go on from time to time. Miss Lukins was that bit fuller figured, her hips were broader than most of the girls, certainly broader than Angel’s at that time and Angel was fascinated by her breasts. They were not the flabby, doughy things that some of the fat girls had, nor were they the oversized melons that some girls sported for a brief few years in adolescence. They were enticingly large with dark red areola but stood proud and firm on her chest. Angel’s were still developing and she was frankly envious. With all the rampant hormonal drives of her age, she made no attempt to resist Miss Lukins’ line in chat up, which ended with a dinner invitation at her rooms that night.
“But I’ve not got much to wear apart from school uniform,” she had protested naively.
Miss Lukins had smiled and told her to just come as she pleased.
The rest of the afternoon had passed in a frenzy of trying on and throwing off until finally she had settled on a pink T shirt that was just a little small but which therefore made her breasts look a bit more grown up, worn over a short, dark skirt. She went bare legged as it had been a reasonable summer and she was quite tanned. The best she could do in shoes was a pair of heeled sandals that another of the prefects had left behind.
Miss Lukins answered the door dressed in a yellow shirt and a pale green skirt that was tailored and stopped a good four inches above the knee. The afternoon in the changing room hadn’t prepared her for how shapely and smooth Miss Lukins legs were. With her heart thundering she allowed herself to be led in, her only thought was one of relief that Miss Lukins had never shown herself off like this in class; there wouldn’t have been a dry seat in the room.
Even looking back on it, Angel could never really say if she expected to go to bed with Miss Lukins or not. Or whether she had expected to be seduced or whether she wanted to lose her virginity to another woman. She only knew that Miss Lukins was smart and sexy and talked to her like an adult and she wanted to find out more about…..about everything. Men and women. Why all the local boys just wanted to get their hands up her skirt? When if they behaved more like men, she would have begged them to put their hands up there and feel her. And now here she was with an adult who seemed to like her and who seemed so relaxed about everything.
They ate they talked and they drank. Miss Lukins kept making arch comments about not wanting to get her drunk. And Angel didn’t have that much, but it was enough.
At last, Miss Lukins had got up from the table. Put some music on low and beckoned Angel to come and join her on the sofa. By this time there was no pretence. Angel was eighteen after all and somehow two of Miss Lukins buttons had come undone and the valley of her cleavage was showing.
She sat back as Angel – even though she was desperately looking forward to whatever was going to happen – sat awkwardly beside her, balancing on the front of the sofa, not quite able to relax back.
Miss Lukins laughed. “Come here, Angela,” she said and held out an arm. Hesitantly, knowing this was supposed to be happening with a man but absolutely dying to know what it would be like with a woman, Angel let herself be cradled by the arm as she sat back, half turned towards her teacher.
“You couldn’t keep your eyes off them this afternoon,” Miss Lukins said, squinting down at her chest. “Want another look?”
“Oh yes, please Miss – I mean Anne.”
With trembling fingers, Angel had undone her shirt and helped her shrug it back off her shoulders and with some more giggling struggles get rid of it entirely. Then there had been a time of slow, wondering stroking, Angel loving the pleasure she was giving and savouring the size and firmness of mature breasts. There was no hurry now. The spell was cast. They would go the whole way…..when it pleased them. Anne’s bra was taken off and Angel kissed her nipples, laughing as they hardened to a size far in excess of her little nubs. Anne got up to put another CD on, letting her breasts sway freely. Angel stood up and took off her T shirt and bra so that when Anne came back they could rub their breasts together and she so wanted Anne’s hands on them.
When Anne’s hand began to slide up her thigh and under her skirt, it was so assured and so unlike the frantic explorations of the local boys that Angel had simply parted her legs and lain back while her lover had expertly aroused her without even taking her knickers off. Then she had leaned forwards and kissed her so deeply that Angel thought the top of her head would come off.
“Let’s go to bed and get those off there,” she had said at last.
Angel had never been able to forget the thrill of putting her fingers into Anne. But then she had never forgotten the thrill of feeling Anne probing inside her, finding her hymen and then producing a sizable vibrator from the bedside table.
“Want to get rid of it?”
At that moment, Angel would have sold her soul if Anne had asked her to. The loss of her virginity, if it meant that Anne was free to penetrate her as deeply as she wanted to, was a paltry thing.
Angel stuttered, gasped, trembled and twitched her way to the stars so many times that night it was getting light before sleep overtook them. She even fell asleep with her face between Anne’s legs.
In the morning they shared a bath and compared how much each of them stung in the aftermath and soaped every nook and cranny of each other’s body. They ate breakfast naked and licked yoghurt off each other’s nipples. Then they sucked it out of each other’s cunt. After that they had another bath.
In the days that followed Anne drove them away from town in the evenings so they could go to dinner without being spotted. They stopped the car on the way home and played at boy friends trying to get off with them in the back seat. Angel would try and get her hand up Anne’s skirt by distracting her with outrageous claims to have seen UFOs and little green men. Furious wrestling matches ensued that rocked the car in the lay by. Then Angel would pretend to sulk and Anne would placate her by putting Angel’s hand inside her blouse or spreading her legs and letting her feel about until they needed to get home and get the toys out.
It was still a time that Angel looked back on as being the happiest of her life. But then came the morning that changed everything.
Anne was quiet. Angel’s parents were coming to collect her in two days’ time. Angel was determined to cram every second full of experimentation and excitement but Anne sat her down in the small kitchen of her flat and told her that a lot of people would think she had behaved terribly badly.
Angel had protested. But Anne had been insistent, Angel was young, she shouldn’t have been pushed into it so quickly. She, Anne, was to blame.
Angel had gone on protesting until Anne had taken her face in her hands and kissed her until she melted.
“Will you help me feel better?” she asked. Angel nodded.
“Then punish me and I’ll feel I’ve paid for my bad behaviour.”
Angel had no idea what she meant but was willing to do anything to bring back the happy, lovestruck Anne.
Taking her hand, Anne led her into the bedroom and knelt down, feeling about under the bed.
“Teachers always used to have these you know! But they used to use them on naughty girls…….so you’ll have to use it on this naughty girl.”
She stood up brandishing a cane and handed it to an astonished Angel.
Anne went to the chair that stood in front of her dressing table and turned it so the back was facing her, then she hitched up her skirt and wrenched down her knickers before bending over the back and holding onto the sides of the seat.
“I think six for a first offence, Angel. But I daresay I’ll need more tomorrow, I think I’m going to be very naughty tonight.” She gave Angel a look of lascivious invitation. “I think I might be tempted to rim you tonight and that
would be very naughty indeed!”
Angel was staring at her lover’s bottom. She adored the smooth curves and the silky skin but having it offered to her to hit seemed terrible and wonderful all at the same time. They had scratched at each other as they had rolled in their passion and the pain had heightened the passion. This must be an extension of the same thing.
“Don’t be afraid, Angel. It makes a loud noise and hurts terribly. But I want it to. I like the hurt, Angel. Do it for me!”
And Angel had beaten her lover. Hard. It had come naturally.
When the swishing and smacking, the most exciting things Angel had ever heard had fallen silent and a sniffling Anne had slowly stood up, her mentor had fallen to her knees in front of her and kissed her hands again and again in gratitude.
Angel had loved the way the shockwaves had run through the soft flesh of the buttocks each time they were struck, she had loved how Anne had wriggled and cried but had not attempted to rise. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
And in bed that night, after an exquisite meal out, for which Anne had refused to wear knickers; ‘I want to go on feeling everything my darling gave me!” she had been a demon in bed. Before that night she had been a gentle, if raunchy angel. That night and for the few left to them, she had been a down and dirty whore who had introduced Angel to the delights of anal sex. She had displayed a streak of exhibitionism that left Angel breathless. Driving the car home naked one night, she had got out at an all night station and gone to the toilet, then walked calmly back across the forecourt under full floodlights. Her bottom was constantly marked. The canings increased until on their final night together a climactic total of twenty strokes was dished out over the evening.
Chapter Seventeen
“And you never saw her again?” Lang asked her when she finished.
“A couple of times we met while I was at uni and we had good times in some hotels. But then she moved to Manchester and got involved in the scene there. I lost touch.”