The Ruins

He stood behind me, admiring the view. Then I heard him pick something up. The swish and whoosh through the air warned me before the strike – a flogger. He started out lightly, almost massaging my back, thighs, and bottom. Then he began to strike hard and harder, the leather strips thudding into me, while the tips stung on impact. I controlled my breathing, taking it in, concentrating on the pain, the hurt.

He switched instruments to a holed paddle, and slammed against my ass, alternating to my thighs, concentrating the swats in a single location before moving on. I panted and gasped, each strike greeted with a shriek and then and howl. I almost felt as though I couldn't breathe.

He paused and allowed me to catch my breath for just a moment. Then, he stood next to me, facing backwards, and caressed the tortured flesh of my bottom. He was being oh so gentle, but each touch made me gasp, each soft lingering trail burned. He planted a kiss on each cheek and then slid a finger into my opened pussy. He stroked it in and out. He played with my clit, causing it to throb and ache. He slid two fingers in, thrusting gently. I moaned and moaned.

'Oh Master, let me cum, please Master,' I begged him, over and over. He silenced me, sliding his fingers into my mouth, covered in my own juices. I sucked his fingers hard, licking them to get the last of the juices from them. Master reached up and loosened the chain. He helped me to my knees, and attached the chain to a lower eyebolt on the column.

'Please fuck me, please let me cum, please fuck me, Master.' Master said nothing, but I rejoiced in the sound of the zipper going down. I could feel his heat above me, and he slid his dick into my bottom. Slowly at first, and then harder and he grabbed me and pulled me to him.

'Yes, Master, yes, oh please please please,' I begged over and over. He continued to use my ass, good and proper, fucking me harder and faster. I thrust against him as best as I could, bound as I was. He slapped my ass and I cried out as the pain flared again. Again and again he slapped me. Then, he grabbed my hair and used it to pull me against him as he thrust. My own pleasure was building and I begged him for permission to cum.

'Please, Master, may I cum, please. I must, I can't wait any longer.'

He laughed above me. 'Little slut, like being fucked in the ass, huh?'

'Oh Master, I do, please let me cum. I can't stand it.'

He laughed again. I began to moan. I was going to cum, I couldn't stop it, but I didn't want to disobey. I fought it and fought it, the moans coming faster as he rode me there in that ruined building.

At last he said 'Cum for me, my little slut.'

'Thank you, Master, oh thank you!! I'm cumming, I'm cumming,' I cried out as I came in a great shuddering orgasm, the pent up sexual energy released at last. I moaned and thrust against Master, and he came in my ass. He pulled me back against him, and then released me. He stepped back and I heard him zip up. He slapped me on the ass again.

'You're a good lay, slave,' Master said. He removed the pins on my pussy, and untied them from my thighs. He reached over and unfastened me from the column, unlocked the cuffs from the chain, and then unlocked the ankle cuffs from the spreader bar. He helped my unsteadily to my feet.

I was still blindfolded, and he helped me move across the floor to the stone block on the other side of the cleared section. He helped me on top, and then helped me lay down. I relaxed and recovered while he bound my wrists and ankles to eyebolts in the block.

I felt the knife tracing over my body, scraping across tender parts, trailing over my thighs, my breasts, my throat. In reality, it felt wonderful. The stone was a cooling balm on my ass, the knife an exciting but relatively painless way to recover from the beating. I relaxed into it, and accepted it, enjoying the cool sharpness against my heated flesh.

Master stopped playing with the knife, and warned me to brace myself. A breath later, hot wax from the candles drenched my breasts. I screamed as it hit. Master kept pouring, a trail over my breasts, down my belly, across my thighs. I yanked at the bonds, and he ignored it. I shrieked at the heat, the burn.

He stopped and grabbed my head, 'Calm, little one, accept this. You are my slave, and you have many lessons to learn. I am too soft with you, as you have yet to understand how complete is my control over you.' He let me go, and I resolved to please him in this as all things.

The wax struck again, covering me. With the number of candles in the place, there was no lack of wax to coat me in. I breathed steadily, accepting, reminding myself of my place, at Master's feet, serving him. Again and again, it was poured, until the wax was only hitting wax that had already been poured and hardened.

Master stroked my head. 'You have pleased me, slave. There is but one thing left for you to endure.'

I heard footsteps. Footsteps, but Master stood here, stroking my head. He was not walking. Another set joined the first, and another. Master stood at the head of the stone block stroking me. Footsteps surrounded me, went silent. I heard breathing, slight movement, the rustle of cloth. Hands began to stroke over the wax where it lay on my belly, thighs, breasts. The hands peeled the wax off me, as though I were an orange to be eaten. Eagerly, they rushed over my body, my pussy brushed by hands unknown, many times. My breasts fondled, my belly tickled, my thighs stroked.

I heard zippers and gasped. Master continued to stroke my head, guarding me. If Master was here, all was well, all was well. I repeated it to myself over and over to calm the panic in my stomach, the ache in my throat.

I heard the unmistakable slippery sound of cocks being stroked. Hands continued to caress me and stroke me. My nipples were pinched, my clit rubbed. I began to moan low in my throat almost against my will. Still, Master's hands never left my head.

'That's it, little slut, that's it. Feel that? That is my control over you. You are mine to command.'

My pussy gushed, the cocks stroked faster. I was panting as the hands stroked me, rubbed me, stimulated me. I began to cum again, so soon. Master urged me on.

'That's it, give yourself up to my will, little one. I know what you need. I know what you want. You are mine.'

I moaned and moaned ground myself toward the hand that was rubbing my clit. The first stream of cum hit my belly, and then another and another covering my breasts, belly, and thighs as the wax had before. The hand on my pussy shoved a finger in as I came and came and came.

The hands left me, the footsteps moved away, until only Master and I remained. His hands on my head, his voice in my ears, telling me what a good little slut I was and how much I had pleased him.

I lay there as he untied me and removed the blindfold. I looked down, covered in cum. He lifted me and carried me to a darkened corner where a tub of water waited to clean me. He bathed me gently in the water, washing away the mess, cleaning me.

Master dressed me in another, different dress. I blew out the last candle after one last look at the ruins. He led me back to the limo, and I slept peacefully in his arms all the way back to the hotel.