Sarah's Quest Ch. 04

Each time Helen and I met, she gave me the gossip centered around the people I had met at her party. I learned that Artemis was fucking Athena even with a 30 year difference in their ages. Apollo and Ares are gay and expect to be married as soon as the state makes it legal. She told me about certain guys that kept asking for my phone number or e-mail address. Helen never gave away confidential information including our relationship. Yet there was one man that was more insistent than the others that she thought I should get to know. It was "Hades."

"What's the deal with Hades?" I inquired. Helen didn't say anything right away, then answered with a question. "Sarah, what did you think about Anastasia's lifestyle in the book?"

"Well, it sounded really exciting. It even turned me on when I thought about doing it."

"OK, then I should tell you that Hades was my Dom. We split last month so now he is free and would like very much for you to be his sex slave. That's why he keeps asking about you. I put him off because I wasn't sure how you would feel about it."

"Was he good to you, Helen?"

"Yes, Sarah, very good."

"Then I should think about it, right?"

"Yes, I would if I were you. I'll give him your e-mail address if you like."

"OK, fine with me but there are no commitments here because I need time to think more about it."

"Good, then expect to hear from Hades."

The way she said it, it sounded like I was getting a call from hell.

It took no time for Hades to contact me. That evening my e-mail read, "Text me if you want to be my slave .... Hades," and he gave me his number. There was no way I was going to respond quickly. I waited. He wrote again, "Dear Slave, I need to hear from you soon," and left the number. A day went by and a third e-mail arrived, "Did Helen of Troy send me a Trojan Horse?" and he left his number. This continued for three days when I finally replied.

"Dear Hades, I am not interested ... Aphrodite." Of course I was interested but had to find out how badly he wanted me. Another day went by and no mail. I thought, damn, I'm busted. I've screwed up here and that made me want to be his sub more than ever.

A week later, he wrote in all caps, "MEET ME AT 1420 PREDENT AVE. AT 10:00 TONIGHT."

I did not respond but got a baby sitter and told Ted I'd be out for the evening. I left the house in shorts and a tank top at 8:00 PM. My first stop was the a restaurant around the corner from 1420 and had a few drinks and a light meal. The drinks calmed my considerable apprehension and by 9:30, I was finally feeling myself again. At 9:50, I left the restaurant to check out the address. It was 10:00 PM when I rang the bell. There were no lights on in the house and the neighborhood was quiet and dark. The door didn't open but a voice said, "The basement door is open."

I looked around and found stairs leading to the lowest level of the house. There were no windows but the door was open. Attached to the door was a message that read, "Find the key, Aphrodite, and unlock the door. Walking into the darkness frightened me. My eyes slowly became accustomed to the dark as I searched for a key. It was easily found because it looked like a large iron 17th Century jailer's key. The large metal key clanked as I fit it in the keyhole and the door squeaked open. The whole thing was creepy and eerie. My heart pounded as I crept into the room. There were large candles lighting the room so I could see it was a dungeon, even a torture chamber. The walls were littered with ropes, chains, clamps, and all sorts of restraining devices. The tables held hooks, wires, electrodes and boxes with knobs. There were cages and stocks that looked like they came from pictures I'd seen of misbehaving people in Plymouth. I saw railings made of black iron pipes and many more implements of torture. What I didn't see was a person. I seemed to be alone except for a voice that said, "Take off your clothes. Put your arms behind your back. Spread your legs." Once I had followed his commands, he appeared as if out of a vision. He was dressed all in rubber and wore a mask, an executioner's mask. The only skin showing were his lips, nose and his cock and balls. They hung out of an opening in the rubber suit and made for an exceptionally erotic sight.

He approached me with a coil of braided cord and bound my wrists together behind my back and then the arms above my elbows. Next he clipped on ankle claps connected by a chain and said, "Here are the rules," he said holding a flogger. "I am your master and you only do what I've told you." He slowly circled me giving me a few light whippings. "This is not about romance. This is about dominance and submission. It is also about sex. I chose you because you are my sex slave. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said with a quiver.

"Yes Master," he said gruffly.

"Yes Master," I repeated.

"First we must see if you know how to follow directions. If not, I will send you home. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master. Will I need to sign a contract, master?" I had to ask.

"You've been reading too many books, slave. You simply must be submissive and give me pleasure and no harm will come to you. Now, get off the chair and walk on your knees to me."

This was difficult but I worked my way up to him with my knees giving me pain with each movement on the stone floor .

"Fine," he said. "Now you are to lick my cock and balls but do not put either in your mouth."

My head was at his genitals and I started licking his limp manhood. He used the flogger on my arms each time I lost my balance reminding me he was in control. My master was shaved so his testicles were smooth and soft. My saliva began to drip down my chin as I worked up a strong appetite for his stiffening organ. When he became fully hard, I was treated to a nice thick 7 inch erection and that is when I yearned to have him inside me. "Stick it in your mouth until I cum, Slave." I did as he said. He forced himself deep into my throat until his spasms could be felt and the squirts of jizz filled my mouth. "Swallow Slave," as his last drop of cum touched my tongue. "You are doing well, Slave. Return to your throne." By this, I think he meant the chair I sat on earlier.

The chair was odd looking. First, the seat looked more like a toilet seat with an opening but it was contoured to fit a person's bottom. The front legs of the chair were unusually far apart with clamps at the bottom. I sat on the "throne" waiting for my next command. Apparently, the blow job was only a test for what was to come.

My master's erection slowly softened and I knew he would not be fucking me right away. He removed the ankle clamps and chain only to clamp me to the front legs of the chair spreading my legs far apart. My exposed pussy was defenseless from my master's lustful desires.

"Good," he said. "You're shaved," then he placed an orange ball gag in my mouth and fastened the straps behind my head. "You will not speak," he said. "You will only nod your head. Do you understand?"

I nodded in the affirmative. Standing behind me, he wrapped a "necklace" on me but it wasn't a necklace. It was like a thick dog collar with a loop at the front. This was followed by a braided cord coiling it around my right breast until it pushed my boob out like an enlarged pimple. The rope was then threaded through the loop in the collar and my left breast was bound. This felt uncomfortable and soon the restriction of blood turned my captive tits purplish. He said, "You have a lovely set here, Aphrodite," and began to gently flog them, first the right side, then the left. There was no pain, just an arousal in me that I couldn't explain. "You like this, slave, don't you?"

I nodded in agreement.

"Then we need to give them more attention but only after we explore your beautiful cunt." At this my master went over to his table of horrors and picked out double clamps which he placed on my labia with weights at the ends tugging open my pussy lips. It only hurt for a short time until I got used to the pain. "Oh, your pussy is so sweet Aphrodite. I must soon taste the nectar of your sexuality. But first, back to your marvelous tits." He took out cylinders resembling test tubes but with thin flexible tubing leading from one end. The tubing was connected to a pump and the "test tubes" to my swollen breasts.

First he rubbed my nipples with a clear ointment. I could hear a pump softly humming in the background somewhat like a Shop Vac while he fit the cylinders over my nipples. They immediately sucked my tits into the cylinders pulling at them until they were fully erect. "How beautiful your nipples look this way," he would say. He circled me two or three times enjoying the view. Walking back to his table of toys, he returned to me. Seeing that my nipples were plump and puffy, he quickly removed the vacuum tubes replacing them with nipple clamps. The pair of clamps were connected by a heavy chain that pulled at my nipples each time I moved. Ouch, they hurt. I began to wiggle in discomfort and wondered what additional pain I could withstand.

"Oh my, Aphrodite. You are not to wiggle unless your master has allowed it. You need to be punished." He brought over one of the lit candles and dripped wax on each breast. Every drop stung for only two or three seconds but he kept dripping more and more hot wax on my sensitive mummeries so the sting was constant. He moved down toward my legs dripping more wax on the inner side of my thighs. By then, I became accustomed to the sharp quick pain. This seemed to transform me in some way. I was now acclimated to the idea of pain and strangely, even began looking forward to it.

When a person is this vulnerable, there is no pretense of dignity. You are stripped of your vanities. The mind begins to float freely with none of your inner sentinels guarding the gate. Your defensive mechanisms have been vanquished. You simply have given up control and are truly liberated.

Reaching behind me, Hades loosened the rope that bound my wrists and arms only to replace them with heavy leather wrist bracelets . My arms ached from being restrained for so long. He moved to the front and unbound my breasts. It was a relief to feel the blood flowing back into my discolored boobs. Two cords were then tied to my wrist clamps, one for each arm and hoisted over a beam above me. He pulled the cords until my arms were raised over my head as far as they would stretch. The cords were secured to the wall keeping my arms above my head like a referee signaling a touchdown.

Hades said, "Aphrodite, you have been a very good slave so far and I think you deserve to enjoy more of my play things." At that he opened a case the size of a briefcase and inside I could see many different strange looking devices. He connected a glass "Y" shaped rod to something that looked like a hairdryer. Once plugged in and turned on, it had a slight hum. He began by massaging his prick with the glowing glass apparatus. Each time the appliance was close to his cock, there would be a sizzle-like sound and it lit up like a purple neon sign. He seemed to enjoy it even with a tiny bolt of lightning zapping him. His erection began to become more apparent as each flash reached his penis. Then he spread his legs apart so he could get the electrode to make contact with his balls. "Ooo," he gasped and began to massage his testicles with the glowing device. This time Hades gave out groans of contentment.

After satisfying himself for several minutes, he said, "You see Aphrodite, this is pleasurable"

It was pleasurable at first as he began using it to zap my breasts that felt like jolts of static electricity. As he turned up the volume, the neon light became brighter and the sizzle became louder as it struck my skin. There was pain but gratifying pain. There was this ozone like smell to the air making me wonder if it was from burnt skin. As he moved the wand down across my belly, I become accustomed to the shocks. It stung for a moment, then after awhile, you surprise yourself with what you can get used to. At my clit is when I understood the meaning of torture. Each arc of lightning striking my sensitive organ caused me to cry out in pain through my still impaled mouth. Soon I was numb.

This lasted only a short while before Hades changed devices. Apparently I was going to get the full BDSM experience. This time he had what appeared to be a turkey baster. He filled it with baby oil. At first he squirted a little on my clit saying it would be soothing. Maybe, but I was still feeling the stings from the miniature lightning bolts. Then he did something totally unexpected.

"I want you to feel what it is like being fucked by a horse and the joy of its massive orgasm." Placing the baster near my still clamped pussy lips, he shoved it into my vagina until it could go no further. With each depression of the baster's bulb, squirts of the liquid flowed inside me. The feeling was weird but pleasant. He pressed the bulb again and again filling my insides. The oil overflowed like a super-sized creampie. Quickly, Hades grabbed his well endowed cock, aimed it at my oil filled pussy and rammed into me. I've felt nothing like it before or after. Squish, squish, squish as Hades' engorged pole rammed into me. Hades was more than up to the task in his role as my master while he fucked me hard and long. Yet he wasn't satisfied with that. After being temporarily unbound and unclamped, I was led toward another instrument of torture and I could see that his glistening engorged shaft had a purplish-red color with pulsing veins that could mean only one thing. There was more fucking ahead. He draped me face down over a rounded barrel clamping my legs and arms to the floor. My legs were spread and, of course, my ass was fully exposed giving Hates access to the hole of his choice. I had to laugh to myself thinking he had me literally over a barrel. Once attached, he plowed into my gaping oil filled cunt and thrust himself into me with determined energy. The oil and my natural juices made for a slippery mess and a sexy squishing sound but it worked well when he turned his attention to my ass. He plowed his fleshy lubricated organ into my other opening reaming my asshole repeatedly with fast and long strokes. It was only then that he delivered a huge load filling me with gushers of cum. I can't remember how many times I came. Time after time I felt myself climaxing, not knowing what sent me over the top. There was just something about being submissive, humiliated and a sex object that was so very fulfilling and erotic. This just might have been the pinnacle of self-awareness! It took awhile before Hades pulled out of me. He seemed to enjoy the feeling of his hardness being engulfed by my warm backdoor tunnel. I could feel him soften and knew my time as his slave had expired. While he walked in front of me to unhook the restraints, my eyes again wandered between his legs to the opening in the plastic suit. What had been such a vibrant rod of power, was now like a limp rag hanging out over the darkness of his suit. He no longer seemed so intimidating or so much the master.

I was released from his powers and free to stand. Standindg was like learning to walk all over again. Two hours of being held captive will do that to a person. Hades simply walked out of the room and disappeared in the direction from which he had come. I looked for a towel or wash cloth to clean the fluids that flowed between my legs. There were none. There wasn't a bathroom or a sink in sight. I was standing naked in a dark dungeon covered with oil, semen and my own juices. The odors were unmistakably that of sex and surely would be noticed at home. I just had to wipe off what I could with my panties, get dressed, then head for the shower immediately when arriving home. I hung my soaked panties on the doorknob as I left.

I was home by 12:30. Ted was in bed so he wasn't around as I threw my clothes in the washer and headed for the shower. Sleep came easy.

The next morning, after the kids were off to school and we had breakfast, Ted said, "We need to talk."

Oh my God, he knows!

We sat in the living room with our coffee where all serious family talks take place. This was indeed serious. Ted looked at me for a few seconds, then looked down as he said, "I don't really know how to approach this delicately so I'll just come right out with it."

My heart was nearly pounding out of my chest anticipating what I already knew he was about to say. He began. "Sarah, I've found someone else."

What? What did he say? Found someone else? My husband is saying he has found another woman? Oh my God! He's not talking about me cheating and infidelity?

"His name is Jason and we'll be moving in together in a few weeks. We already have an apartment uptown."

Huh? Jason? Jason like in a man? Ted is gay and I never expected it? I tried to gain my composure and gather my thoughts. This explains everything and how our sex life was nothing more than going through the motions. All along he was dealing with his own secret life and me with mine. WOW ... who would have thought after twelve years of marriage?

That was pretty much the end of our conversation and I just sat on the sofa in a daze. Ted left the room leaving me to my thoughts.

Over the next few days, I was able to come to terms with lots of things such as me reaching out for new sexual experiences and now, Ted's unexpected bomb. The thing is, it clarified everything because I realized that what I had been looking for was more than sex or excitement but someone different from Ted. I was looking for someone to care for me as much as I cared for him. In fact, the quest I was on ... was to find true love.

POSTSCRIPT:

After the divorce, I took a leave of absence from my sexual identity crisis and moved on with new insights. It took a few months after Ted moved out before I felt confident enough to get into the dating game. The Internet social sites helped me see the many choices, good, bad and ugly. I had dates with a few decent guys and too many thoughtless egocentric men. None were a good match. However, I had a lingering memory from a few months back at my high school twentieth reunion. There was this guy who was interesting and fun. He was a great listener with a terrific sense of humor. We had a great conversation catching up and we exchanged e-mail addresses. I got up enough nerve to write him and he wrote back. This continued for about a year and like in the movie, "You've Got Mail," he wrote, "I think we should meet." We did and did it many many times. Tommy and I married just before my 39th birthday. Yes, THAT Tommy ... my senior year boyfriend!