Association

I nodded my head, chuckling out loud when she practically sprinted to the bathroom.

I made sure I had everything else ready: a large plug for her ass, the flogger, a spreader bar for her ankles, and the penis gag trainer for later. She would spend the rest of the evening as my coffee table, providing support for my plate, glass and silverware while eating her own supper from a bowl on the floor. But first, she would be punished for her transgressions, which had mounted steadily all day: speaking out of turn, refusing to follow instructions, and especially all those forbidden orgasms.

I wondered if she disobeyed so she would taste more of the whip? Perhaps she herself didn't really know. But I did know that my feelings for her were growing exponentially, placing me in the classic conundrum of a top; does one show affection to a partner by increasing her suffering? Cruel to be kind, thank you, Nick Lowe by way of William S. Or does one occasionally break down the artifice of the power exchange relationship and act "normal"?

I wasn't sure if I would ever figure that one out. I had seen many similar relationships founder and sink on these exact shoals.

But again, what fun we would have trying.

I noticed that more than ten minutes had passed since she ran off to the bathroom.

"Sabrina?" I called out anxiously, putting down the flogger and hastening down the hall. "Are you okay?"

Fortunately, the door to the bathroom was unlocked. And there sat Sabrina on the toilet, her head pressed against the towel hanging from a rack, fast asleep.

I felt a wave of emotion wash over my body. Poor thing, I thought as I gently scooped her off the seat into my arms. Time for you to join the other angels in the land of nod.

I carried her upstairs to my bedroom, pulled back the covers, and lay her on the sheet. I took off her collar, but left the mittens in place. A quick trip to the studio produced a long leather leash, which I used to tie her wrists loosely over her head to a bedpost.

"Goodnight, Sabrina," I said softly as I pulled the comforter over her elongated form. "I'll join you in a little while."

After supper, I sat down to respond to some long-neglected correspondence. Some kind of bondage convention wanted me to lead a half-day workshop for budding pornographers, for which they offered to cover all my expenses in addition to a healthy honorarium. I thought for a moment about how Sabrina would look standing next to me at the podium, arms bindered, waist corseted, legs encased in thigh- high leather, a bit gag in her mouth, and a leash trailing down from a posture collar to a cuff around my wrist. Definitely worth a trip to Washington, D.C. We might even stay for all three days of the conference.

Bills, bills, catalogs, junk--hmm, an invitation to Brenda's mid- summer bash. I crumpled up the embossed paper and threw it into the fireplace without a second look.

Finally, I logged onto the Internet to check the progress of Sabrina's auction. As expected, my ridiculous offers had scared off other bidders. Pity it was my grand finale in this particular enterprise. I could hardly wait for the close of business in Hong Kong early tomorrow.

As I prepared to turn in, I checked the weather report. Late-night clouds giving way to sunshine, the virtual meteorologist reported. Excellent. I planned on a double session with Sabrina in the ring to make up for today's rainout.

But first, I wanted to let her sleep as long as she needed. Of course, I might interrupt her dreams occasionally as my desires demanded. But I was quite confident she wouldn't mind the distraction in the slightest.

Starting now, I smiled, peeling off my shirt as I walked up the stairs.

***

DAY 13--SABRINA

A masturbation aid. That was my label for the night. I was sound asleep when I got the strangest wake-up call in my life. Geoffrey just penetrated me from behind and started fucking. Surprise! Why did I feel no pain? Was I wet even in my dreams? Two seconds later, anger took over when I realized he had waken me up just to use me as a sex toy. However, I soon found myself responding to his thrusts, pulling on my restrained wrists, panting in unison. Then, as pleasure was growing, he came, slipped out, turned around and fell asleep. Just like that.

Why do I put up with this? I asked myself while his breathing reached the regular pattern of someone who's started to dream. Because it excites me, I had to admit. So was this what my life would be about? Despite the evidence of the last ten days, I couldn't believe he had nothing better to do than tie me up and fuck me. And occasionally rescue me from villains. Surely a semblance of normal life would resume.

Or not? I remembered Brenda's wad of green notes. He, we, could live on that money for a while. Work wasn't really necessary anymore. Still, was all his life about bondage?

Oh well, tomorrow would tell, I concluded, yawning.

Tomorrow...if my perception of time was correct, tomorrow was the end of my official assignment with Geoffrey. I was supposed to re- surface in the outside world. Call my boss. Contact my friends and relatives. Would he think about this, or just let me vanish? Out of the blue, into the black. Once you're gone, you can't come back.

Unable to answer such a simple question, I hid under the covers and ordered myself to sleep. Ten minutes later, I was still awake and restless. I turned around and lifted my head to take a look at Geoffrey. Bathed in the pale moonlight, his face was so serene, it was hard to see him as a sadist who would whip me when the fancy took him. Such a complex character.

Responding to a sudden emotional urge, I bent over. Although my wrists were tied to a bedpost, the leash was long enough to let me move close to him.

I left a soft, almost imperceptible kiss on his forehead and held my breath for a few seconds. When I was certain he wouldn't wake up, I lay back down, thanking all deities that the high-quality bed didn't betray my movements.

And finally, I slept.

Only to be awoken in the same fashion a few hours later. Geoffrey's morning erection lasted forever, but still not long enough to give me any satisfaction. He didn't look sorry about it. Well, I had asked for this, right?

He used the bathroom first, giving me more time to pout over my unquenched thirsts, then untied me so that I could take a shower while he went down to prepare breakfast.

Remembering I hadn't eaten since the previous morning, I washed quickly and was happy not to waste any time choosing clothes. All he had left on the bed was my chastity belt, which I put on and locked with a slight pinch of regret. Maybe later?

When I joined him in the kitchen, he was turning over slices of bacon in a pan. In a normal life, I would have kissed him good morning and helped him. Instead I stood still and waited for him to tell me what to do. While I waited, I noticed the table was only set for one. Lowering my eyes onto the floor, I saw a red bowl ready near his chair. Yuck. Not my favorite way to start the day.

Favorite or not, this was the way Geoffrey had chosen, and I had no option but to obey. I ate the omelet straight from the bowl, with my hands cuffed behind my back and chained to my ankles, then lapped my coffee from the same dish, trying not to burn the tip of my nose.

After breakfast--invigorating, if not particularly enjoyable--he harnessed me in a now-familiar outfit. A look outside told me the weather was perfect for a ride. But he obviously had other plans, even if they were somehow horse-related.

As I preceded him on the dirt path to the training ring, I once again reminded myself that, yes, I had asked for this. And, yes, I was excited. And, yes, I was probably insane.

--GEOFFREY--

After a brief warm-up, I introduced Sabrina to the reins, clipping them to rings on either side of the bit in her mouth.

Leads in one hand and a cat-o-nine-tails in the other, I stepped behind her and gave the leather a hard shake. When she didn't respond immediately, I cracked the thin ends of the whip smartly against her ass.

"Hiya!" I yelled as I snapped the reins again. This time, she began moving forward somewhere between a walk and a trot.

"Easy," I coached, pulling back on the reins slightly until she slowed down to the desired speed. "Walk, trot, canter, gallop. We've been working on this for a week. Don't make me remind you again."

I tugged on the rein attached to the left side of the bit, and was extremely pleased when Sabrina turned as directed. Then I pulled back on the reins hard, almost dragging her off her feet.

"Start, stop, left, right! Again!"

I knew she loathed her training, but her opinions were no longer valid on this, or any, topic. Instead of trying to guess what she really wanted, I would do with her as I pleased. If she didn't like it, she could always leave.

It's the only way, I reminded myself as I used the whip on her again. If she really wanted romance and cuddling, she wouldn't keep coming back for more. Plenty of nice guys in the world. I wasn't one of them.

In fact, I was starting to believe that Sabrina wanted me to treat her even worse. So be it. Even if it occasionally killed me inside. Affection, meet affliction.

After two hours in the ring, I took her back to the barn, stripped off her equestrian gear, and hosed her off. No more swimming pool for the foreseeable future, unless I decided to weight her down and let her breathe through a tube for a few hours.

I cuffed her wrists, gagged her, and marched her back to the house and down to the studio, where I dressed her in a one-piece rubber dress that was just barely long enough to cover both her chest and her crotch. Her good high heels had seemingly disappeared, but I realized Brenda probably wore them home after Sabrina let her go yesterday. No matter, I decided, as I found a pair of open-toed strappy spikes. I had had my eye on a pair with straps that could be padlocked; the perfect replacement.

Shit, I hadn't fixed the car tires yet. Well, we would take a taxi into town. Actually, we would go to the train station and retrieve her car from the parking lot. Luckily, I had had the foresight to make an extra set of keys for Brenda to throw in the trash. I chuckled as I stuffed them into my pocket; I had never thought I might actually need them for a situation like this.

After we picked up the car, I drove her to the restaurant we had visited the week before. After taking a table in the back, I handed her a small leather bag filled with coins.

"There's a pay phone by the bathrooms. Call whomever. I'll be back in an hour; we'll eat then."

--SABRINA--

Stunned, I stared at the heavy bag in my hand like it was going to give me a clue. Geoffrey had treated me so harshly that whole morning, I wondered whether he was aware I was still a person. Actually I had doubts about that, too. But now, without warning, he confronted me with the life I knew when I was nothing but a sane, thoughtful human being.

After rehearsing my lines a couple of times in my head, I called the association. The chairman made it easier than expected, although he seemed a little surprised to hear from me. I wondered if he knew that I knew that Geoffrey knew...oh, it wasn't worth the extra quarters demanded by the mechanical voice in my ear.

Calling my family and friends was much harder. I couldn't tell them where I was, not to mention what I was doing, but my cheerful announcement that I had finally found "the one" and decided to live with him was enough to soothe their concerns. Let them imagine some Hollywood romance, I thought as I hung up for the seventh time, feeling a huge weight off my shoulders now that the practical problems appeared to be solved.

I decided to keep my apartment, just in case; a friend agreed to retrieve my personal belongings and sublet it on my behalf. My mail would be redirected to a post office box until further notice, and a last call to my bank confirmed that I could manage my account through the Internet.

All the ties to my "normal" life were loose, at least temporarily; I'd deal with the more delicate problems of birthdays and holidays later. I giggled as I imagined spending a blasphemous Christmas with Geoffrey. Bound tight in strands of lights, I would make such a lovely tree by the fireplace.

With a silly smile on my face, I left the phone and went to the bathroom. The leather bag was only half empty, but there were no more calls to make. I didn't have an extensive social life, and wouldn't miss much of it.

When I returned to the main dining room, I almost bumped into Geoffrey. I handed him the bag and followed him to our table.

I hoped he would lift my speech restrictions for the duration of the meal, but he didn't, confirming my impression that he was trying to make up for his moments of tenderness the night before. I doubted he would make love to me like that again soon. It was time he was back in control, I jested to myself while eating the food he had ordered. We weren't about to get emotional here.

I couldn't hold back a faint chuckle, which didn't pass unnoticed and earned me a frown. I resumed my serious expression and concentrated on my food.

When we were finished, we left the restaurant and drove further into town where Geoffrey parked behind a large building hosting a variety of shops. When he came around the car to open my door, I started to move out, but he stopped me. Retrieving one pair of cuffs from the glove compartment, he tied my ankles to a bar under the seat and left with the key. My hands were free, but useless, so I decided to take a nap.

I was awakened abruptly when he returned and closed the trunk with a loud bang. Then he drove us back home, parked my car next to his, unlocked my cuffs, and motioned me to walk by the side of the house, toward the stables.

I was disappointed when he elected to go for a horseback ride by himself, while I spent the hour in an empty stall; naked, but generously adorned. Hanging from a hook in the ceiling, my limbs spread out to the four corners. Waiting for him to return. Just another afternoon in paradise.

--GEOFFREY--

I was a little surprised to find Sabrina waiting for me at the restaurant, having presumed that some do-gooder family member would talk her out of staying. Or worse, I was going to walk into an ambush: perhaps the police, or maybe some armed friends ready to take me to task for my treatment of their best friend, or girlfriend, or sister.

Instead, she had simply handed back what was left of the coins and joined me at the table without a word. Exactly as trained.

I had planned to discuss a safeword with her, a prearranged signal that would allow her to leave my world with no questions asked. But I scarcely saw the point now. I would give her plenty of opportunities like this one--an hour here, a day there--no set schedule, like everything in our lives to be.

I was just about to tell Sabrina how pleased I was with her behavior when she seemed to choke back a giggle.

Oh, she thinks this is funny, eh?

My first instinct was to command her to bring herself to orgasm right then and there at the table. But I'd save that punishment for another time. Instead, I hurried through the rest of our meal so we could finish my errands, including one more stop at a special store; kind of a patchouli palace, dressed to twirl in tie-dye scarves, preposterous bongs and assorted Grateful-they-were-finally-Dead detritus, but it had by far the best selection of candles in town.

Once we got home, I decided I needed to work off some of my anger, so I took her to the barn, stripped off her dress, and hung her in an empty stall--soon to be her stall--while I exercised the horses a bit.

When I was finished, I dragged her back to the house and down into the studio to the wall where I had installed horizontal wooden beams spaced evenly from floor to ceiling. I always thought it looked a bit like the side of an oversized packing crate. But the slats were perfect for securing arms, legs and whatnot in a variety of awkward positions.

I positioned Sabrina on her back with her ass pressed against the wall and her legs spread in a wide V. Starting with her ankles, I wrapped dozens of coils of rope around her calves and thighs, threading each strand around a slat and knotting it tight to prevent even the merest hint of movement.

When I was done with her legs, I locked her hands back into the leather mittens, then tied them at her sides to her thighs. I used the rest of the rope around her elbows and breasts, then finished off her bindings with the pump gag strapped tight around her head, topping it off with a pair of blinders on the sides of her eyes.

I pushed a pillow underneath her neck and head, then attached butterfly clamps to her nipples, the kind that increased their pressure when something pulled on their handles; something like the thin piece of cord I knotted around them, then ran up to a slat in the wall, then back down to the leather straps of the trainer that met between her eyes.

Certain she couldn't move her head without causing considerable trauma on her nipples, I went to work jamming the long, thick candle between the slats so that it stuck out horizontally from the wall just above her lower waist and groin.

When I was satisfied with its stability, I produced a lighter from my pocket and gave it a flick. As her eyes grew wide, I moved the flame under the candle's wick. After it sputtered to life, I watched until the first drops of wax fell a few centimeters above her navel before turning my attention to my afternoon chores, such as moving the bed out of her room and replacing it with the cage from the studio.

--SABRINA--

After so many bondage adventures, you'd think I'd grow tired or bored at yet another scene. But, no. You don't get bored when hot wax splashes on your belly. Nor when your breasts are about to be torn off when you simply move your head in a reflex to counter the pain. You get afraid, you get upset, you get aroused...you never get bored.

I couldn't take my eyes off the candle. Literally, I couldn't. Thanks to the blinders, it occupied my whole field of vision. Unless I wanted to take chances with the clamps and move my head, but the view was definitely not worth it. So I kept my eyes on the white phallic object that threatened to burn me down to my crotch.

When a drop hit my navel, the burning sensation was instantly followed by a most pleasurable echo a little further south. I closed my eyes and waited for the next one to fall, accepting its dual gift, and soon longing for it.

I was floating in another world when the wax reached my shaved pubis, sending fireworks with each tiny splash. The pain felt so good, it wasn't even pain anymore. And it wasn't nearly enough to match the flow of sexual hormones speeding through my veins. I decided to help the candle in its slow work and turned my head. Left. Fire in my breasts. Right. Tears in my eyes. Up. Bright light flashing inside.

The candle must have been near the end of its life as I felt the centers of pain and pleasure moving incredibly closer.

But they didn't meet. More drops fell on the same spot; so close to the target, yet never reaching it. And then they stopped. The candle had died on the slat, leaving nothing but an small extinguished nub of white wax.

And me? I felt like yelling. What about my own little death? Mad with desire, I pulled on the cord, but almost fainted when I felt the unbearable bites on my nipples.

Then I heard Geoffrey's footsteps hurrying down the stairs, and I tried to calm down. No need to show him how well he had scored with this game. My glistening body would provide ample testimonial to his victory.

--GEOFFREY--

I was a little disappointed that the candle had fizzled out before the wax reached Sabrina's sex, so I went back upstairs and stole one from the dining-room table. After slowly unclamping her nipples, I tried several practice drips on her breasts, then went to work down below. When the nub got too hot to hold, I was impressed with both the quality and the quantity of molten white that both coated and filled her.