POW Pt. 02

A lot of things suddenly made a lot more sense. And she would be a fool to try to deny she was feeling attraction to Major Tiegen. It wasn't that he was a dom that attracted her; she still didn't think of herself as a sub. What she liked was how he seemed to intuitively grasp her state of mind, time and again, and how he seemed to understand things she did not. Underneath the hard, unflinching military exterior, he was actually quite attentive. He was exactly what they had just talked about—he was a man she could trust. The kind of man she would want at her side if she was in a foxhole. Maybe the kind of man she could trust to help her explore this new fascination of hers. There was one thing that really bothered her, though. She decided to ask it.I know I'm probably not supposed to ask this, but how many servants do you have, Master Carl?

LOL. You're right, a Servant would never ask that unless she WANTED to be punished. Of course, you're not a Servant. Some wouldn't answer anyway, but I don't mind. I don't like to have more than one Servant at a time. I have one now, but I'm tiring of her and she of me. It's the first time that's happened to me—she just isn't very imaginative, and no matter how the scenario starts it always ends the same. Previous Servants I lost because they moved or were transferred or whatnot.

She could see that he was trying to be reassuring. He wouldn't have invited her here if he didn't have interest in... pairing with her. But somehow his answer didn't fit with what she expected.Lost servants because they moved or transferred? Somehow I pictured the master telling the servant if she could move or not.

ROFL. This is real life, not fiction. The scene is play, fun for adults—life takes precedence. A Master is only the Master within a defined time and space; he or she doesn't own your life. Partnerships are broken up by life circumstances all the time. I have one friend whose last meeting with his Servant was the night before her wedding--the groom had no idea his fiancee was into B&D on the side. Why do you think there is so much space devoted to personals, and finding clubs in other cities?

Something inside suddenly felt a lot more comfortable. Maybe that, ultimately, was her deepest fear. In Akbar, unwillingly, being a slave was her whole life. Anything that even remotely smelled like throwing away the rest of her hopes and aspirations just to satisfy someone's sexual whims repulsed her deeply. But now the Major was telling her that it didn't need to be that way. If she could experience discipline in circumscribed times and places...What happens if a master demands a slave meet him, and she has something else going on? she typed.

Don't assume the Master is male, and the Servant female. That's the most common arrangement, but there are female doms and male subs, and of course situations where Master and Servant are the same gender. But to answer the question, that depends on the Master. Some don't like to be told no; that's one of the ground rules that needs to be agreed upon before an initial meeting. Personally, I don't mind my Servant being otherwise occupied it's for a good reason. I know Uncle Sam sends you all around the country; I'm the last guy that would get in the way of serving out country. Just don't say you can't make it so you can watch 'Make Me a Star Dammit' on TV.

That certainly sounded reasonable. And because of that, she felt odd again. Her experiences were decided unreasonable; in Akbar the Master's word was the only one that mattered. She had a hard time reconciling reasonableness with absolute demands. As if to answer the question, there was more.

Now, don't get the wrong idea—I may be pretty flexible OUTSIDE of the scenario—but I demand absolute obedience INSIDE of it. That's kind of the point. Melanie nodded to herself. She'd seen how different the Major was inside the Pentagon versus outside. She had no doubt his Master Carl persona was different yet again.

Her questions seemed to be answered. So now what? The unspoken obvious was that he was interested in becoming her Master. What did she want? Was she looking to get into a relationship—any kind of relationship, with anyone? Especially a relationship seemingly based entirely on kink?I gtg, doorbell she typed hastily.Just before the logged off she saw a response.

You lie badly. If you were my Servant, you'd be punished for that.Of that she had no doubt. And he had seen through her yet again.

Melanie was uncertain. For weeks after that exchange, she spent hours soul-searching. How did she end up in this situation? Was this something she wanted? Was she looking for this? Why would she want to do this? The answer to the last one was easiest—because Matt hadn't been able to provide what she was looking for, not after Akbar. She thought long and hard about why, about what had gone wrong, and couldn't escape one conclusion: he had been too nice. He was attentive, paid attention to her needs, tried to give as well as receive—qualities that had attracted her to him before Akbar. But being sensitive made him seem... not very STRONG. She LIKED strong. She was ARMY, dammit. All of her friends in high school called her a tough girl, and it surprised no one she went into the military. His strong, easy self-confidence had been part of why she'd been attracted to Michael. And in Akbar, where she'd been forced to comply—clearly that strong, too. When she got back home, Matt seemed so weak in contrast. Yes, she'd learned that pain could enhance pleasure, but that didn't mean she was looking for a beating. No... she decided that what she really wanted was a man that was STRONG, that would demand he receive what he wanted and not rest until he received it. A man whose will was stronger even than hers, forcing her to bend in its face. THAT, she decided, was what really got her wet, and what she was looking for. And all of that Major Tiegen seemed more than capable of delivering.

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She saw the Major twice at work since their online chat, but he had merely nodded acknowledgment of her presence on continued on his way. That made her feel better too, made her feel like if she did this he would keep the secret like it was National Security. She finally gave in to the nagging longing in her heart, got online and contacted him again. They negotiated ground rules in a matter of days, and now here she was. Standing outside a warehouse in Maryland, nearly naked, about to voluntarily submit totally to the will of a man she barely knew. She hesitated, second guessing herself one last time, but unable to deny that everything seemed to point to this being what was missing in her life. She opened the door with Master Carl's insignia on it and stepped inside.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw she was in a large, empty room. Undoubtedly once a factory, light filtered through in narrow beams where panes of painted glass had broken. A few stray leaves that had drifted in through the holes lay amid the dust on the shop floor. The only other thing she could see, across the room, was a heavy steel door leading to something behind a concrete block wall. She saw Master Carl's logo on this door, too, so she crossed the room.

The door ended up leading to what had once been a suite of offices. At first she saw no sign of Master Carl. She walked tentatively down the longest hallway, increasingly unsure about this. Then she saw another door with the insignia. She opened it, revealing a stairwell. Becoming increasingly concerned, she probably would not have gone down had she not noticed a faint glow of light below.

The door closed behind her with a slam as she walked down. This was the place. The concrete block walls had been painted black, and a dark carpet covered the floor. This was not a full basement; it was just a single good-size room, perhaps once upon a time a fallout shelter. There were no windows and the room seemed very well-insulated. She panicked for a second; if she screamed, no one would hear her, perhaps not even if they were standing at the top of the stairs. It didn't help that the only light came from a half-dozen free-standing five-candle candelabras, each standing just below eye level. Why would Master Carl want SUCH a secretive place? What if she had read him entirely wrong? What if...

Before her catastrophizing could get carried away, he stepped out of the shadows. "Welcome, my pet," he said in a way that reinforced his complete control over this environment. He stepped towards her, and she felt his eyes appreciatively inspecting her physical assets. She straightened her posture, pressing her chest out to better show her breasts. They were not exceptionally large, but they were nicely round and generally elicited positive reactions when she thrust them forward. He was wearing black leather pants like that night at the club, but no shirt at all. His chest was hairy, and his chest muscles defined. He stood right before her, and touched her chin with his finger. "You remember the safe word?"

"Embargo," she replied.

"Are you ready?" he asked one last time. She nodded.

He took three steps forward, and pointed the ground where he now stood. She stepped forward. He produced a riding crop, which he placed between her thighs and pushed outward. She spread her feet apart. He ducked down, and she felt him clamp iron shackles on her ankles. When he stood, she saw in the flickering light that they were anchored to the floor.

He moved quickly to a side table and returned with police-grade handcuffs. He clicked them on her left wrist, watching her eyes evenly. She obediently held her right hand back, and he reached around her and cuffed them. Then he disappeared behind her back for a moment before walking to far wall. All at once she heard a metal clanking as a crank was turned, and she felt her arms being tugged upwards by the cuffs. As they lifted, she had to bend forward to relieve the pressure on her arms.

He went to the table again, and returned with a heavy slave collar with a single iron ring. His eyes met hers again, not softly but not coldly either. They seemed to be watching her, peering through her and into her innermost thoughts again. Looking perhaps for fear. She turned her eyes toward the floor submissively. He had talked to her about the importance of trust, and so far she was trusting him. When the collar was on, he attached a chain to it, adjusting the length so that she had to bend almost 90 degrees at the waist because of it. Finally, he tightened the tension on her arms a little more, so that she had to lift them as far above and behind her as she could with her shoulders in the down position. She was helpless. Neck and ankles chained to the floor, arms to the ceiling, she had almost no freedom of movement.

He strolled leisurely over to the table to retrieve his crop. She could only see his legs as he walked back towards her. She felt him grasp and squeeze her buttocks for a moment, thenthe first blow landed. And almost immediately after,, a second, much harder. "Have you forgotten your training, Private?" he yelled like a drill Sergeant.

Forgotten my training? she thought with panic. She was going to be sore for a long time if she didn't figure out what he wanted, quickly.What could he be... wait, he said "Private." He must mean BASIC training. "Thank you sir, may I have another!" she barked.

"You learn quickly," Master Carl muttered approvingly. She did not hesitate thereafter:, "thank you sir may I have another,", "thank you sir may I have another..."

She felt her cheeks redden and flush with blood. Maybe it had just been a long time since she'd been spanked, but she guessed that Major Tiegen was a lot stronger than the Maulana--that's why his spankings seemed to sting even more. He paused for a moment, rubbing her hot cheeks. Then... aaahhhh. She felt his other hand groping between her legs. Her clitoris jumped at his touch, and his fingers readily found and applied pressure to it., he spanked her with the crop again. Distracted by the sensations from her clit, she didn't respond quickly enough... andhe hit her hard again. "Thank you sir may I have another," she squealed. And so he continued, stroking and beating her at the same time. Her entire bottom smarted, but she could specifically still feel the two stripes where his two punishment blows had landed. She guessed there were significant welts there. She definitely didn't want to make him angry with her--when he was mad, it didn't just sting, it HURT.

The spanking continued, but the Master's manipulations made Melanie's juices flow. His hand was already drenched with them and he hadn't made a move to penetrate her anywhere as yet. Melanie was growing impatient; her old masters would have been shoving their dicks down her throat long before now. She was very curious to know just what her new Master's penis would be like: its size, its shape, its taste. Impulsively, when the next blow landed, Melanie changed her tune. "Thank you, sir. May I suck you now?" A rapidcame as expected, but it was not as hard as the two earlier punishing blows. "What's that you say, Private?"

"May I suck you now, sir?" she repeated. There was silence for a moment. She had thrown the Master a curve. He considered; if he permitted it, was he giving up control of the scenario? On the other hand, he was very interested to assess his new slave's oral talents. In the end he decided to go with it. There would be no doubt who was calling the shots by the time he was done.

He moved around to her head. Then he undid two zippers, and a square-ish panel that served as the crotch of his leather pants fell away. The belt remained, so his pants stayed on, but now his junk was free and clear. Melanie strained her neck upwards and groped for his penis with her lips. She'd asked for this, so now she'd better deliver. But she had plenty of experience, and was confident she was up to the task. His dick was fattened with interest, but not yet truly erect. She used her tongue to corral the downward-pointing prick and sucked it into her mouth. She felt it grow rigid. She swallowed him deeply, but discovered that her tied-down position greatly limited her ability to suck because all she could move was her neck. Master Carl saw that, and released her neck restraint. She could move a little more now. She sucked him in and released him, kind of awkwardly with her hands tied behind her and held high, but with attentiveness and tongue action. Her spit dripped down his shaft and off his balls; she wondered if he would demand that kind of all-out effort every time.I'd better stock up on throat lozenges, she thought.

Master Carl was impressed; this girl knew how to suck dick. He had intended at first to just let her start on it and then spank her some more, but her mouth felt so good he didn't want to pull out of it. Heck, he didn't even have to push her head down onto his knob; she sucked his shaft all the way down to the back of her throat all by herself. If she wasn't in such an awkward position, she could probably touch his stomach with her nose with his dick buried in her mouth. Truth was, she looked a little silly trying to suck him with her arms jutting out like the legs of a stuffed turkey. Master Carl could be strict, but one thing he was not was inflexible. He changed his game plan on the fly and released her arms, too.

When she felt her arms drop, Melanie immediately got into a better sucking position by getting on her knees. Her arms were still handcuffed behind her, but she really didn't need them anyway. She sucked his dick deep, fighting her own gag reflex to provide all of her Master's penis entrance to her throat. She gagged a few times from the attempt, but quickly caught her breath and went right back at it. She hated to admit it, but the truth was she had learned the technique from watching Sasha. She seemed to be able to effortlessly accept the fullness of any length of cock. With their dicks in her throat and her tits in their hands, men showed very little interest in punishing her for long. Melanie, too, found that the more dick she could swallow, the shorter the punishments became.

Master Carl was really impressed now. She was deep-throating him all by herself, and looked sexy as hell doing it with her hands cuffed behind her. He watched her work, and was pleased that she also understood that she should not look up at the Master, even while fellating him. A good Servant would be attentive enough to sense his pleasure just from the feeling of his penis, and right now he felt like he could hammer nails with his. He knew she was trying to catch peeks by turning her head from time to time, just to be sure she was pleasing him, but how could he not be satisfied by a slave that wants to Please her Master?

Having nothing to do with his hands, he grasped her breasts as they jut out between black leather straps. He grasped her nipples between his finger and thumb and clasped firmly. He felt them grow harder in his fingers. Just to remind her who was boss, he pulled on her nipples. She had no choice but to lean forward, which forced his dick all the way down her throat. He held her there, his dick sheathed like a sword in her mouth. She had no choice but to stay there, and then all at once she had to pull back because of her gag reflex, even though it meant pulling back painfully against the grip on her nipples. He let them go, and she stay there for a minute, catching her breath. It also gave him an idea. She swallowed him again, and he reached to the table where he kept many of his favorite implements within easy reach. He pulled out a thick metal chain with alligator clamps on each end. He stepped back, bent over, and suckled her left nipple. Then he let it go, and clasped one of the clamps on it. He did the same on the other side, so now the gold chain hung down, pulling down on the alligator clamps on her nipples.

Nipple clamps were a new thing to Melanie. The Maulana had sometimes pinched or bitten her nipples, but that had always been just a short layover on the fast track to Boof City. She would describe them as uncomfortable more than painful as they dug in to the sensitive pinkness. In the process, they kept her nipples firmly erect, stimulating them almost painfully, a little like when they got really cold. And that constant stimulation was not entirely unpleasant. It seemed to her like a microcosm of submission in general: pain and pleasure becoming all jumbled up and inseparable.

Master Carl used the chains on Melanie's nipples like the reins of a horse. He would tug on them to direct her in how he wanted to be sucked. Then all at once, he made her stop sucking him. She was so good at it she'd almost milked him dry, and he had more holes to explore. He unchained her legs and brought her over to perhaps his favorite device. It was a table shaped a little like a starfish with one "arm" broken off. Melanie lay on the table, her head on the short arm, while Master Carl secured her arms and legs to the other four arms, leaving her chained down and spread-eagled. Master Carl decided to show off one of the special features of this custom table; he hit a lever and the "short arm" dropped from level to a 45-degree downward slant. Melanie's head tilted back with it. She opened her mouth obediently as she saw the Master's cock approach, and he throat-fucked her for a time on the table. This angle elongated the throat and provided him maximum penetration. His balls slapped against her nose with every stroke; she could smell their sweat. But all at once she felt like gagging, and he quickly withdrew from her mouth. The downside of this device was that a person could choke if they gagged, and strapped to the table would have great difficulty satisfying the urge to clear the airway. She gasped for a moment, and Master Carl flipped the lever returning her head to level, letting her catch her breath.