‘Position one,’ he said, and she straightened up quickly, feeling the rope being pulled tightly between her smarting buttocks and knotted once again. The new dildo felt huge inside her.
‘That’s very good indeed,’ he said. ‘Now then, time to meet another of my good friends, and then we’ll proceed with the next of your lessons.’ He paused and scrutinised her pensively. ‘Assuming you wish to continue the initiation. You do wish to continue, don’t you, Elizabeth?’
‘Y-yes, sir,’ she muttered wearily. ‘V-very much, sir.’
‘Position three,’ he announced, and she lowered her forearms to the floor. ‘This is my flogger, or cat ‘o nine tails,’ he informed her, holding the whip for her to see, then draping the leather tongues across her pink, raised bottom. ‘It delivers a sharp burn, and is quite different to the results induced by the strap. Are you ready to receive it?’
‘Um, yes sir,’ she replied. ‘I think so, sir. If it pleases you.’
‘Good. It is anxious to make your acquaintance, too. Crawl up onto the bed and adopt position five, with a pillow under your tummy.’
‘There,’ he said with satisfaction as soon as she’d completed his instructions, gazing down at the delicious image before him, her bottom perfectly positioned and an exquisite target to enjoy, ‘that’s perfect… just perfect.’ The whip moved back, the handle in one hand, the gathered strands held together in the other. ‘Remember, my dear, this is neither punishment nor discipline – this is an introduction. If you want me as your master you must taste some of what you’ll be facing.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she answered timorously, not sure she was ready for what was coming.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes, sir, I think so,’ she said again, and then the leather strips snapped through the air and hit her raised bottom with a thwacking sound. She buried her face in the coverlet to stifle her cry, and then tried to absorb the deep, powerful burning.
‘Ready for number two?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir,’ she mumbled sorrowfully, unaware she was swaying her hips in a futile attempt to assuage the scalding pain. Repeating the exact method he let the flogger loose, and she clenched her teeth as the scalding tongues bit deep again.
‘A sound flogging leaves a strong impression,’ he remarked as he moved back to his chair, picked up the strap, and returned it and the flogger to the dresser. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, her voice quaking. ‘I have no doubt about that.’ Across her taut flesh she could feel the scorched imprints of the leather tongues, and she could hardly imagine what it would be like to receive numerous lashes, one after the other.
‘Now then, about your pretty mouth…’ He moved back to the bed and sat on the edge next to her, admiring her red rump and his handiwork that had achieved such a gratifying result. The flogger had left a delightful pattern, and he could not resist tracing his hand over it, smoothing the ridged flesh, enjoying her little gasp as he did so.
‘Lips…’ he reflected, ‘lips are such lovely sensuous things, my dear, and you must learn how to use yours in order to give me the utmost pleasure.’ He moved his hand, tracing the sensuous outline of her pouting mouth with his fingertips. ‘You will always remember what a privilege it is to suck me. Do you understand what I am saying to you?’ Her endearing expression told him she suspected, but wasn’t quite sure or able to accept it. ‘Suck my finger as you think I would like you to suck my penis,’ he told her, and eased his straightened forefinger between her lips, deep into her mouth, and she instinctively moved her head back and forth and sucked, her cheeks hollowing with a promise that made his cock flex in his trousers. Entwining the fingers of his free hand in her silky hair he guided her, faster or slower, as was his whim at any one moment. Satisfied she had a natural ability for the task, he withdrew his glistening finger.
‘Now then,’ he said, shifting his weight fractionally so he could open his trousers, lower them a little and move his shirttails aside, his sturdy erection bobbing up from the shadows of his groin before her spellbound face. ‘Is there something you wish to ask me, my dear?’ he coaxed, eager to feed his cock into her warm wet mouth.
Elizabeth stared at it, pulsing powerfully before her sparkling eyes, knowing exactly what was expected of her. ‘P-please, sir,’ she quietly ventured, ‘it would be an honour and a privilege to suck it for you. Please may I suck it?’
‘You may, my dear,’ he consented. ‘Indeed you may.’
Elizabeth shuffled a little closer and lowered her head. She tried to imagine it was his finger again, for her technique then seemed to please him. She gingerly took the bulbous head into her mouth, then formed a tight seal with her lips and sucked, her tongue fluttering nervously against his gnarled underside, her flushed face sinking lower towards his hairy groin. She could feel him swelling even further and feared he would be too big for her, that her jaw couldn’t take his girth, and then she tasted a little seepage of semen on her tongue.
‘You are doing well, my dear,’ he praised her, his voice strained. ‘But if I am to become your true master you will have to welcome my ejaculation into your mouth. Is that a problem for you, Elizabeth?’
With her lips stretched and her mouth full, all she could manage was a little hum and a faint shake of her head, which Lord Michael actually found a heady stimulus that had his fingers clutching her hair tightly as he fought against the threat of an early conclusion to his pleasure, and an untimely end to her initiation.
She managed another hum and a stilted nod.
‘Very good. But for now I must resist the delights of your mouth and save that particularly enjoyable practice for another time, hugely tempting though it is to continue and christen your throat.
‘Now, adopt position four, Elizabeth.’
She released the erection from her oral clutches and moved for him, and sighed with relief as he undid the knot and finally removed the chafing rope. She lowered her head, resting her cheek in the mattress, and placing her hands on her buttocks she spread them apart. Now, perhaps, she would at last be rid of the dildo.
Lord Michael moved behind her, kneeling between her parted thighs. Then taking the base of the rude shaft he began to slide it in and out, whilst teasing her clitoris with his other hand. She was so excited, so turned on by the events of the evening, she began grinding back against his artful fingers, aching for her orgasm, and the stout column was suddenly a part of her arousal rather than an uncomfortable intruder. She was nearly there when he slowed the pace, and then withdrew the dildo completely. Withdrawing his hand from between her legs he touched her puckered portal.
‘Hmm, nicely prepared,’ he adjudged.
If I am to become your master, Elizabeth, you must give yourself to me in every way.’ Elizabeth pondered the word ‘if’. Had she not proven time and again how much she longed for him? How much she wanted him to be her master? The greasy lubricant being applied to her anus for the third time that evening concentrated her mind. ‘You have done exceptionally well tonight, my dear girl,’ he said, but you have one last hurdle to surmount.’ She tensed, sensing something bigger than anything she’d encountered thus far. ‘I told you previously there was an ultimate surrender; something even more significant than the taking of your maidenhead. Do you remember me telling you that?’
‘Yes sir, I do,’ she replied, her voice soft, filled with uncertainty.
‘It will fill you with a sense of complete submission, and make you feel truly and totally owned by me. Do you know what I intend, Elizabeth?’
He touched her lubricated portal with his bulbous knob, and she gasped with mixed emotions.
Surely he didn’t mean…?
But she knew he did.
‘Yes sir,’ she whispered. ‘I do know what you intend.’
‘If you truly want me to be your master, then I must take you as a master takes his slave. Do you still wish to serve me, Elizabeth? Do you want to submit utterly? Do you want to offer me
your ultimate surrender?’
Her hands were still holding her soft cheeks apart, and she closed her eyes in resignation and nodded against the mattress, recognising the fulfilment of his demand as the ultimate surrender she could offer him.
He pressed a little more insistently, probing for an answer.
‘Yes sir,’ she gasped. ‘Please take me as a master takes his slave, and accept my total submission.’
‘Very well, but one last question, and then I will accept your most precious gift and consummate our union.’
Another question? What could it possibly be?
‘Why do you wish me to be your master, Elizabeth?’
Of all the questions he had put to her, of all the tests she’d been given, this was the easiest of them all, and without hesitating she replied, ‘Because I love you, my lord.’
He clutched her hips.
The desire to submit, the courage to explore, the ability to understand, none of this meant anything without her adoration, devotion, and love.
He pushed forward with his hips and sank inside her tight, hot depths. Elizabeth felt the stretch, and after a brief moment of panic, she managed to relax and accept him. She was overwhelmed, and as he’d promised, felt herself being swept away by an intense, flowing sense of submission as he kept pressing inward, his rigid cock filling her until she was completely impaled upon it.
‘Move your hands,’ he said, and she allowed them to drop to her sides, her fingers clutching the bedcover, feeling her buttocks close snugly around him. Leaning forward, covering her dipped back and exulting in the feel of her taut bottom cocooned tightly against his groin, he whispered in her ear, ‘You belong to me now, Elizabeth. You’re mine, completely and utterly.’
‘Yes, master,’ she gasped, sobbing as she uttered the words.
He straightened up, and slowly began to pump between her cheeks, squeezing and moulding them around his fleshy piston. He returned his teasing fingers to her clit, toying in her wetness, and all the while her snug rectum gripped him exquisitely.
Intoxicated by the joy of his acceptance, her deep sense of surrender, the emotional release of expressing her love, the electrifying touch of his fingers, and the omnipotent presence of his cock taking her from behind in the most wicked of places, Elizabeth felt the onset of a powerful and profound orgasm. She was sobbing from it all, and as he pumped more aggressively, as his fingers coaxed more vigorously, she felt the massive wave upon her.
‘Oh, master…’ she wailed.
‘Come for me, my sweet slave,’ he urged through gritted teeth. ‘Come for me, Elizabeth!’
Her muscles tensed, gripping him even more, and suddenly he felt his seed surging. The huge wave washed over her and she cried out as the convulsion gripped her. As the next spasm rippled through her she suddenly felt herself floating, the orgasm flashing coloured lights behind her tightly closed eyelids. Her pussy was pulsating, pulsing with pleasure, and then very slowly the blissful sensations subsided, as did her drained body into the mattress.
She felt him slip out of her, lie by her side, pulling her to him and cradling her in his arms. She was sobbing quietly and he remained silent, holding her close, letting her shed the energy and emotion of the moment.
‘Master,’ she finally whispered, then looked up at him.
‘My sweet Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘I am happy that you belong to me. But rest now, for in the morning I have something very special for you.’
Chapter 15
In accordance with his instructions, Elizabeth was dressed only in a white silk robe tied with a sash at her waist. Her hair was up, and she was kneeling by his chair, waiting.
He had made glorious love to her when they awoke, but this time he plundered her pussy, and holding her hands above her head, pumped until they were both gasping from their sudden intense explosions.
Now, after bathing and dressing as he instructed, she was waiting patiently, utterly jubilant at the turn of events. He was busy in his closet, and finally turned and walked over to her. He was carrying two boxes, and sat down in his chair, smiling at her.
‘You look very happy, Elizabeth,’ he remarked.
‘Oh, master, I am,’ she replied, her elation evident in her wide, sparkling eyes.
‘I have two presents for you,’ he said, indicating the boxes.
‘Presents?’ she beamed excitedly, thinking of the silver music box he had bought her, now her most precious possession. ‘Thank you, master.’
He opened the top box and withdrew a black velvet case, and she caught her breath, for as far as she was concerned only jewellery came in such packaging.
He lifted the lid and she saw a gold rope chain, in the centre of which was a black and white cameo, surrounded by a thick gold band. Her eyes widened in awe. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.
‘Master,’ she gasped, ‘for me?’
‘Yes, Elizabeth, it is for you, and it is very special. This is your collar, and you must never take it off.’
Mesmerised, gratefully absorbing his words, she watched as he reverently lifted the gold necklace out of its case.
‘As you can see, the clasp is quite unique,’ he went on. ‘When I remove this tiny rod it locks in place. It cannot be unclasped unless the rod is put back. It is like a key. I shall have the rod, Elizabeth, and only I will be able to remove your collar. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, master,’ she replied, gazing at her wonderful collar.
‘Look closely at the cameo,’ he instructed. ‘What do you think it is?’
She stared at the white image against the black background. It appeared to be two roses, side by side, their thorns barely discernible.
‘Are they roses, master?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes, it does appear so, doesn’t it? A rose is rather like what we share, don’t you think? So sweet and beautiful, but with thorns to prick when needed.’
The analogy was not lost on her.
‘As you can see, there’s a similar rod at the top of the cameo, and if I remove it,’ he said, doing so, ‘the cameo snaps out. Like this.’ He removed the cameo, leaving the gold band empty. ‘Why do you think I had it designed this way, Elizabeth?’
She stared at the hollow ring, but could not figure it out. ‘I’m sorry, master,’ she said, feeling a little deflated for appearing to be a little obtuse, ‘but I don’t know.’
‘For this,’ he told her, and reaching back inside the box, he retrieved a delicate leash, woven from gold thread, with a snap-clasp at one end that he attached into the empty gold ring. ‘It forms a collar and leash for my pet slave,’ he explained.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ she exclaimed.
‘There are some special events we will attend, during which you will need to be on a collar and leash. And it is my intention that you shall have the most elegant one at every occasion.’
‘Master,’ she sighed gratefully, ‘it’s just beautiful.’
It had never occurred to her that she would one day be on the end of his leash. Yet kneeling in front of him, staring at the collar, it seemed the most natural thing in the world, not to mention the most exciting. She felt the heat between her legs again.
‘How do you feel about permanently wearing my collar, Elizabeth?’ he asked.
Blushing, she replied sincerely, ‘Honoured, master. Very honoured and proud indeed.’
Her perfect response pleased him. ‘As you should be,’ he mused, ‘as you should be. Now, I shall snap the cameo back in,’ he did so with deft fingers, ‘and you will turn around so I can put your collar on you.’ He lifted it, ready for her fitting.
She obeyed immediately, and then felt the cool gold lay against her skin as he placed it around her throat. His fingers worked a moment, and then were gone. The collar was in place. She turned back to face him and looked up.
‘That is perfect, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘You are perfect.’
She blushed, full of pride, feeling a lump in her throat.
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br /> ‘Now before I show you what’s in the other box, go to the dresser and look at the cameo in my mirror.’
Puzzled, she said, ‘Yes, master,’ and standing up, moved across the bedroom to his dresser. She stared closely at the cameo reflected back at her, and let out a little cry. ‘Master!’ she exclaimed, running back to him. ‘It looks like a beautiful girl kneeling obediently before a man!’
‘Indeed it does. And every time you look in the mirror you’ll be reminded of your place, won’t you, my dear girl?’
She wanted to say that she did not need any reminding, but didn’t. Instead she beamed happily, ‘It’s absolutely wonderful, master. Thank you so much.’
‘On your knees, Elizabeth,’ he ordered, his demeanour stern again. ‘It is ust as well I designed it as I did. Evidently you do need reminding.’
She suddenly realised she was standing over him rather than kneeling before him, so she quickly dropped to her knees between his feet.
‘Now then, this box,’ he said, and opening the second slightly larger carton he removed another collar – but a very different collar to the first indeed.
‘This is for training,’ he said, and she stared at it. It was like a wide dog collar made of firm leather, with chrome rings in various places. It was fastened by a thin strap and buckle, sewn at each end.
‘When you are in a training session the gold collar will come off, and this will be worn in its place,’ he explained. ‘As you can see,’ he continued, lifting a woven black leather lead from the box, ‘the leash is quite impressive, too.’
‘Yes, master,’ she concurred, her voice suddenly contrite and timid.
‘Just as there are events to which you will wear your elegant gold collar, there will also be events to which you will wear this,’ he said.
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