by Misty Blue
He let the question pass. It was of no consequence. It only mattered if he needed it to. Action would speak louder than words. He gripped her tighter and swept the palm of his hand down again, four times, her right buttock now reminiscent of a ripened apple, the skin smooth and supple, wobbling a little as he upped the pace.
‘Oh, Master, that hurts!’
‘But not enough it seems, because you still have breath for words.’
He mirrored the same on the left cheek, and then with consistent timing he upped the ante, with a series of short sharp smacks steadily progressing to increase the depth of pain. Beneath his hands her cheeks glowed. They were warm to touch. She was groaning; now not with anguish but with a deepening desire for more. He hadn’t cuffed her. He knew he wouldn’t need to.
‘Is this it, Master? Is this the punishment you’re giving me?’
He laughed. ‘No. You think this is punishment? We both know it isn’t. Feel it... understand the sensation. This is about pleasure more than it is pain. Relax into it. Your instinct will be to fight against it, to preserve your body, to hold back, to wriggle away. Instead, ride the emotion and let it carry you on its journey to a place from where you will not want to return.’
He was enjoying himself. Being Master wasn’t just about meting out punishment, being in control, but rather in inflicting pleasure, at least to those deserving. His thoughts fleetingly turned to Shadow, cowering in the cage. He hoped right now he was feeling very alone, very abandoned. It paid sometimes to know another’s breaking point. But then, this was not the time.
‘Come, join me over here and we’ll try something different, something you haven’t had before. I think it’s time. And after the Ceremony there will be still something more special waiting for you. A surprise. But you’ll need to wait until then to find out what it is, and in the meantime...’ She followed him. ‘Now lie on your stomach across the table while I prepare. I think we’ll have you bound so you can more fully enjoy the experience, knowing you cannot move.’
The coffee table was cold. He knew her nipples would stand out proud as they touched it, and he was not disappointed. He leaned down and fondled each of them, before displaying the rope and knotting a wrist to each leg. She raised her head to look at him, and her sparkling eyes reached in and through him, calling to his heart. He was in love with her, and he smiled. It was the most beautiful feeling on earth and one he’d never hoped to find again. But then here it was, staring him right in the face, and he wasn’t going to lose it ever again.
He touched her face briefly before moving down to secure her legs in the same way as her wrists. His hands lightly caressed her body. It was beautiful. He remembered their first meeting in the hotel room, her reticence in revealing herself to him. Now without any hesitation at all she lay in front of him, proud, offering herself as a gift, trusting him to do right by her. They were ready for the final phase in the ceremony that was to come.
From one corner of the room he took a long narrow case and carried it to where she lay. Then turning his back so she couldn’t see, he arranged things just so, and then selected his tool.
The movement, when it came, was gentle and slow, almost mesmerising. Pandora was stimulated by the experience, and Richard was pleased. He recognised the signs. Her body language showed that this was right for her. Now all he needed was to encourage, to develop, to enhance to the point of touching the pinnacle of the pain-pleasure experience.
He exchanged the small multi suede-stranded ‘Hawk’ flogger for a ball chain. He understood from past experience the gentle swishing of it up and down the spine could produce the sensation of a waterfall affect, and was relaxing and yet at the same time invigorating, rather like a massage.
Her body was looking as if it had undergone a gentle tanning procedure. It positively glowed. He stroked and soothed, and was rewarded by appreciative murmurs. It was proving to be an exhilarating experience for them both.
The leather flogger was thick and heavy. It could be used for either smoothing or beating. He did both, and produced the desired affect.
‘Master...,’ she mumbled, ‘please may I cum? It’s driving me crazy...’
‘No.’ His response was immediate. ‘You will hold that thought. I will tell you when to cum, do you hear?’
He swatted the leather flogger down with an almighty thud, and then again and again, landing with precision, listening to her squeals of pain interspersed with what he knew to be pleasure.
‘You haven’t answered the question.’
Again and again he struck, squeezing from her the words, ‘Master... I’ve forgotten what the question was!’
‘I was instructing you that you do not cum until I say so.’ He paused, listening to her rapid breathing. Watching the fire in her belly coarse through her veins to redden her skin, knowing she was struggling to hold the rapidly growing feelings inside.
He changed to a Python rubber flogger. Each instrument brought its own particular brand of pain. The trick was to build the sensations in such a way as to create a tsunami of feelings so great, so overwhelming, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the torrent whether he ordered it or not.
Soon it would be the turn of his favourite tools. He was enjoying the session, the bond it was creating between them, and again he wondered if it had been wise to use Shadow to train her. He concentrated often on one type of play when there was so much more to use to tantalise and tease and draw out hidden feelings. Shadow had the tools of his trade. He used his experience well. But perhaps he had served his purpose. They had shared friendship and the common experience of grief, but maybe it was time to move on.
Pandora was writhing on the table. There was a growing sense of urgency. A need was building and would not be denied; at least not for much longer. She was ready for the grand finale, so he replaced the flogger and grasped his ultimate toy.
He held her ready, preparing her with words, yet knowing that words were so inadequate when she would ride the feelings which, in turn, would carry her to some far and distant place within her mind. He wished he could join her, but it was her own space and he would be an intruder. This was a journey she needed to travel alone. It was what he had promised her from the beginning, and there would be other times, and soon, when they would travel there together.
‘Listen now, my sweet...’ He was aware the sensations were already taking her, but he continued all the same, saying it perhaps more for his own benefit than for hers. ‘A pleasurable BDSM experience depends on an experienced Dom or Master and the bottom or slave attaining the correct state of mind. We have achieved both. We are Givers. This day we have served one another well. And there will be other times, and soon... soon.’
With one hand he took firm hold just below her ribs on one side, and gently with the other hand caressed the soreness of her bottom, where the strokes of his favoured instrument would fall.
‘Together we have played the symphony of love. And you need to think of each sensation as a musical note set in our composition, which we have created together. It belongs to us. To this day. Now you are about to take it to another level and experience those different sensations in a medley of mixed emotions, taking you to our grand finale... and beyond.’
She was raising her buttocks towards him, seeking his hands, urging them on, wanting it... needing it... crying out for The One to finally complete the symphony and to make her cum.
‘Remember what I promised from the beginning; it is now time to release the endorphins and to truly make you fly.’
As an accompaniment to his words he was toying with her, playing with the valley between her buttocks, teasing it with the cane. The rattan was made up of three canes in one handle. Sweet! Anything else was too clumpy. Finally this would push her over the edge.
The swish of air was the only warning that came.
Her scream followed.
The endorphin rush h
ad begun. Steadily it had been building even as she entered the room. Now it was time to give it wings, to let it fly free and take her beyond, to experience euphoria.
‘There will be six, six strokes of this very special cane, and on the sixth you can cum. But I think you will be ready for so much more by then.’
Again he brought the cane down hard across her bottom. The sting curdled a further scream, but in that scream was the sound of something else, something far deeper, and he knew with absolute certainty by the sixth stroke she would be gone.
The third stroke was yielded. He knew this was what being a Master was all about. It wasn’t about the power to do this; the control and having someone subservient under him. This was about giving pain, but teaching the recipient how to give in to it, and to understand and know the absolute experience that comes when endorphins kick in. After all, it’s the reason people dice with death in all manner of ways in order to achieve the kind of experience she was experiencing now; base jumpers, white water rafting, sky diving...
‘Four...’ He felt the surge of energy within her.
‘Five...’ Her body was twitching, gyrating.
‘Six...’
She lay still. At peace. Her bottom was like a badge of courage. Her head lolled down over the edge of the table. Gently he stroked her hair. She really was beautiful, and she was his... all his. No one else would have her or mark her or play with her. She was too precious. Too special.
It would take her a while to emerge from the deepest of sub-space where he’d sent her. He worked at the knots which held her, then gently carried her to the sofa, laying her on cushions to rest.
There was now time to settle the remaining loose end before he shared an evening meal with her.
A Loose End
It was cold, dark and dismal. Not a nice place to be. The cage hadn’t been used in a very long while. The room was damp and smelly, but the overriding feeling was one of abandonment, and Shadow didn’t like that at all.
He might not be a big figure, but he was bulky, fit, muscular. Fitting into the cage was like putting a shark in a goldfish bowl. He hadn’t been there more than five minutes and he was stir crazy. He could well understand tigers caged at the zoo, banging their heads against the walls of their imprisonment, hearing the call of the wild, longing to break free.
Richard had taken the warning bell with him. It was usually kept within reach just outside the cage. The lock was secure. The bars thick and unyielding. He couldn’t even sit comfortably, his back wedged tight while his knees were drawn up under his chin. And there was nowhere at all to put his arms except pushed right in close to his body where his movements weren’t just restricted, there wasn’t room for movement at all. Worst of all was that the flogging with the switch had turned him on. Yes, it hurt like crazy; it wasn’t his chosen means of corporal punishment by any means. He’d been flogged before, many times in all different positions and situations, but always with paddles, floggers, crop or cane, or if he was excited enough, one following the other. But he’d never experienced the switch. The bite was similar to a cane, but much more whippy, and it did something to him deep inside. He hadn’t expected such a powerful reaction. His body rebelled, trying to fight against the pain, and yet at the same time was flooded with the overwhelming feelings of satisfaction. He’d been careful not to let it show, but now, trussed up in the cage, he could do sod all about the urge that continued to grind and growl inside him, setting him on edge, needing the act of fulfilment. And that wasn’t good!
His whole body was wound up like a tight spring. He was ready to explode.
‘Yah!’ he roared into the silence, knowing that sound could not carry beyond the room, except through the speakers installed.
It had been fun in the past to sit in front of the console upstairs and view a tormented victim through the camera. He enjoyed being a voyeur when Richard had his wicked way.
‘Yah!’ he roared in frustration again, begging to be free.
What the hell was Richard playing at? Why didn’t he come to release him? How long was he going to keep up this charade? Okay, so he needed to be seen to be punishing him, but enough was enough.
‘Yah!’ he roared simply because he could. His voice was the only thing he had left, it seemed, the only way of venting his feelings.
But no one heard, no one listened, no one cared.
And yet suddenly he heard the sound he had been waiting for - footsteps on the stairs. He strained his ears. Surely he hadn’t been mistaken. The door was open a crack, and he was sure Richard was there. Perhaps he had never left at all, and this was an exercise in seeing what he might do, how he might cope, just to give him a taste of a punishment and then let him go.
Silence.
And then he heard what he dreaded most - footsteps retreating.
It wasn’t going to be that easy then. ‘Richard, Richard, come on... let me out. Okay, so I was wrong. Whatever it is you believe I’ve done, then I admit it. Please, just let me go, release me from this infernal cage and I’ll do anything required to make it up to you. Please.’
In a corner of the room the light of the camera blinked knowingly, recording these moments, as if they might be needed as evidence later.
Action Replay
A plan was evolving with every step Richard took towards the dungeon. He had been trained to analyse problems, collect, store and interpret data, and to deduce the logical or even pragmatic solution to any problem. The sudden turn of events didn’t faze him. In fact, things had worked well in his favour.
Finding out about Shadow’s devious activities and ways of working to his own advantage meant an end to the relationship they had shared. He was tired of playing his Master. The tantrums and sudden change of mood could be wearing. Yes, they’d had a good innings, they had supported one another since the untimely death of their wives, and the company had been welcome. But Shadow had a habit of moving things along at his pace; pushing him into areas he didn’t really feel comfortable in or want to go. The time was right. He would tell him straight. And for the work he’d put in over past months in training Pandora he would pay him off handsomely, but then tell him to go. He’d take him to the mainland, but after that he was on his own. He had friends. He wouldn’t be alone for long.
He had entered the hallway leading to the steps down to the dungeon when the phone rang.
Sod it! He didn’t want any interruptions now. His first instinct was to ignore it, but the ringing was persistent, shrill, biting into his thoughts, urging him to answer. It could be Gerard, his Chief Exec; his call was long overdue.
He turned and hurried back to the nearby telephone hung under a mounted painting of one of his ancestors, Uncle George. Absently he stroked a finger along the frame, noting the dust. Shadow again, not keeping up with his chores.
‘Hello, Richard? Thank God you answered. We’ve received an unsolicited approach and we need your immediate thoughts...’
The phone call lasted some time. He listened long and hard, and wondered why he paid his Chief Exec such a salary when he couldn’t handle the initial discussions and prepare a brief for him and the City, but his attitude softened and he issued detailed instructions to his subordinate on what he required, with the assurance he would join him when all the facts were known. He demanded absolute discretion and authorised any action to dispel any unfavourable rumours. He knew his Chief Exec well enough to know favourable rumours would be exploited to strengthen their position in any way they could. He closed the conversation, idly wondering what an unsolicited offer for the business would be worth and how much he could up the ante if it was genuine.
He stood quietly once he’d put the phone down, caught between business and pleasure. It would mean bringing the Ceremony forward, and he’d need to leave almost immediately afterwards. That was a blow. He couldn’t take Pandora with him, so he’d need to retain the services of Shadow a whil
e longer and appease him, while making it crystal clear he was not to take advantage of the situation in his absence. It wasn’t ideal, but what else could he do?
This needed to be sorted. He turned and strode with renewed vigour to the steps leading to the dungeon below.
Look & Learn
It was an extraordinary feeling of exhilaration, and yet at the same time an overwhelming sense of peace that lifted and held Pandora. At first everything had distanced, voices came as if from a long way off. She was aware of her surroundings but then less and less so as they paled into insignificance. It was hard to find words to describe the experience. It was more about feelings... floating... flying... with a weightlessness that defied all reason.
She couldn’t make sense of it, but then again, she didn’t have to. She felt calm, allowing herself simply to drift and be held and taken to whatever shore she might find herself washed up on. The feelings she held were like the sea, coming in waves, gentle, rocking, lifting, gliding, flowing. She wanted it to go on and on and on.
But then something stopped her.
Something snagged her mind.
A thought tore free from the safety and warmth of the cocoon and continued to prick until she took notice. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t know more, but she should explore, and as the path of reason began to find a way, slowly she started to surface through the bubble of blue, to the realisation of the thought that was now troubling her.
She lay in a nest of cushions on the sofa. It wasn’t a room she was familiar with, and it took some minutes before she remembered the way she had been taken from her own room to this with a blindfold, believing it to be Shadow leading her. That’s what didn’t fit. In all these months always, always it had been Shadow who would come for her. Dream Catcher never did.
And this was different; more different because of how her senses had been aroused, and the acts performed between them born out of love. She was sure he loved her, and she was equally certain there was stuff going on between Dream Catcher and Shadow, stuff she didn’t understand. Shadow’s whole persona had changed. It was like having two people in charge of her instead of one, both living in the same body, both equally capable, and yet one so loving and one so cruel.