The Weekend Ch. 02

He stood in front of her, a strange look on his face. She tried to fathom it: certainly there was sadness there, concern, but also eagerness... looking down, she knew also that he was deeply excited by the prospect.

"I am not sure about this darling," he said, seriously. "I had intended punishing you a little, and teaching you many things, but I know that you wish to experience this side of me, that it has fascinated you for too long. But there will be limitations. I will not verbally abuse you, not for anything or anyone. You are not any of the things I could call you, and that I know you have been called. I also know I could destroy you, just by my words, in fact, far more by my words than by any physical harm. Just because I can doesn't mean that I should. And I won't. I will not do this all in one go, either. Tonight will be a foretaste, before we sleep wrapped in each other's arms. You WILL get the rest later, and there will be no backing out after this point. Do you understand, sbff?"

She nodded, her eyes wide as she realised that she would finally see the dark sadistic side he spoke of occasionally. When she had really begged him to, he had spoken of girls who he had reduced to tears, of the dark pleasure of pushing them still further. Her mind had dwelled on the awful things he had said, the pain that they had endured. She had to know this side of him, wanted to try to understand why it was there, and why he never showed it to her.

He moved still closer to her, as she stood helpless, her arms already beginning to ache. Kissing her, he told her how special she was to him, how he adored her as a perfect toy, funny, sweet, cute, sexy, such a willing pleasure giver.

"I will be with you through every last element of pain, darling. I will care for you, even though it is me causing you this. I will test you, push you, and push you beyond what you can handle, but you will be ok, I promise."

She smiled at him, and leaned into his kiss passionately, feeling the excitement building. He walked over to his second case, and opened it, revealing many toys, many that she had seen used on those horrible yet exciting porn clips she dared herself to watch in secret.

He picked up a ball gag and walked back to her. His face was different now, harder perhaps. Efficiently, he strapped it in place, forcing her mouth wide open. She started to drool so quickly, tried to keep it in, but was humiliated to feel it dripping onto her breasts.

He followed its path with his fingers, then, suddenly, slapped her tits hard. 3, 4 times on each, stinging ringing gasps that left her breathless. She could feel the heat of the slaps and knew there would be livid marks on her.

Without waiting for her to recover, he pulled and twisted her nipples, stretching them far enough to strain her arms against the rope. Then, grasping them firmly, he shook her tits hard. The pain was intense, seeming to fill her whole world. Yet it was arousing, too.

She yelped into her gag, but knew it was too late; He would not stop now until he had decided she had suffered enough. The knowledge terrified her, yet excited her, and a glance at his face reassured her that he was still watching her, caring for her despite his apparent absorption in the task.

He released her nipples, but brought out a bag of clothes pegs. "I have many toys," he murmured to her, "But I enjoy using everyday items, because I know that, every time you see one of these now, you will remember what I did you."

He placed a peg on her left nipple, gently closing it. The pain quickly grew to fill her whole world, making the peg he placed on the right nipple a surprise. He stood back watching her face. She stood proudly, eyes watering, but determined to accept his actions and to show her lover how strong she could be.

Stepping forward, he held a peg in each hand and looked into her eyes. Holding her in his gaze, he ripped the pegs from her nipples without opening them.

She shuddered, almost growling into her gag. The pain was intense, her nipples on fire. He smiled a strange smile and replaced them in exactly the same spots, biting into her tender nipples. 3 further times he repeated this, always making her look into his eyes as she did it. She was crying now, her nipples so sore and tender, but she could stand it with him there, his soft words comforting her and arousingly at odds with his actions.

Leaving the pegs on her reached down and behind her, his body touching hers, his cock nestling at the entrance to her wet, hungry pussy. He grasped the butt plug that she was still enduring.

"Does it hurt, darling?" He asked.

She nodded urgently, but then screamed into her gag as he pulled the plug out without warning. Her hips thrust away from the pain, forcing her to impale herself on his achingly hard cock. He pushed the plug back in again, stretching her tight ass with it, making her feel stretched, abused, dirty. Each pushed forced her further onto him, the pain and the pleasure becoming confused in her mind.

After the pleasures of the day, she could not hold long, and came violently on his cock, until she was hanging limply by the ropes that bound her. He kept her there until she had finished twitching and moaning, and then gently untied her and removed the simple toys.

He lowered her gently onto the bed and lay there, clasping her tightly and whispering his love for her. Even in his soft words, though, there was a promise of worse, much worse to come. A reminder that this had been a gentle foretaste of things to come.

"Lay with me now my darling," he said. "Let me comfort and love you, let me sooth away the hurt. Fall asleep in my arms..."

She so wanted to return the pleasure to him as they lay naked beneath the light, crisp sheets. Her hands sought out his still hard cock, and started to stroke it. Her lips kissed his. But the adrenaline of the day, and of this session in particular, had taken its toll. She needed his comfort and strong arms, and a blissful exhaustion overcame her.

Her head on his chest, her hands still caressing his manhood, she fell into a deep, contented, fulfilled sleep.

She awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee, and the sound of sir moving around. She tried to stretch, to slide her lithe, shapely limbs from the bed, but found that sir had been busy. She glared over at him, to where he was standing, wearing a long white dressing gown and an almost insufferable look of amusement.

"Morning, sweetheart. I believe you expected me to work you over a little more than I did yesterday. Well, the weather is foul until this afternoon, so I thought we could play first and then treat you for being so good later."

She still glared, prettily, and without real malice. She was excited, already damp with anticipation and fear. She hoped she would not disappoint him, being so unused to this.

As if reading her thoughts, he came and sat next to her on the bed, sitting her up and pulling her close. Her restraints held her arms behind her back, pushing her small, perfect tits out. While the spreader bar made her dreadfully aware of her vulnerability. She hated that she couldn't hug him like this. It was something she adored doing, online or for real, and had looked forward to cuddling him in bed when they awoke that morning.

A tear ran down her cheek, for the loss of a pleasure eagerly anticipated.

Immediately he was aware. "Darling?"

She looked up sadly. "I can't cuddle you like this, Sir. Please?"

He smiled and kissed her. "You really wanted to?" Gently, he released her hands from the cuffs.

She threw her arms round him, kissing his face again and again. "Sir, I dreamed of being able to cuddle you in bed. Thank you so much." She looked down at her legs, still held uncomfortably open. Her large, soft, appealing doe eyes looked into his. "Please?"

He smiled. "I don't stand a chance, do I, Funnybunny?"

She giggled. "No sir, so much easier to give in..."

He sighed theatrically. "All my blinking hard work. It will be taken into account you know." The bar came off quickly, and they lay together naked under the covers. Her head rested comfortably on his strong chest, her fingers tracing the scratches from last night. His arms encircled her, protectively, tenderly.

She felt safe, warm, protected. Owned. Instinctively she touched her collar, her fingers stroking the Gazelle.

He smiled, and kissed her. The kiss became two, then many, deepening in intensity and need. Their hands strayed, roamed, enjoying the touch of each other's bodies, learning how they responded.

She remembered how sensitive his neck was, and started to kiss and lick it. Her finger circled his nipples then traced down over his chest.

He gave a long, low moan, like a growl, and made as if to roll her onto her back, but she pushed him gently back. "No, let me," she pleaded, gently. "You are teaching me about a different type of master, please can I give my submission rather than having it taken? Please?" Each word was punctuated with a kiss, each kiss lower on his body than the last. She looked up, hopefully, deep into his dark brown eyes.

He closed his eyes for a moment, licking his lips as another moan escaped from him. "Yes, yes. Mmmm darling, please do. You know how I don't like to assume tha..."

She silenced his worries with a kiss on the tip of his cock, then butterfly kisses all the way to the root as her hands cupped his tight, aroused balls. She licked back to the top, slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She was glad she knew to look at him like this; she loved to please him, and always lost herself in his adoring gaze. Her tongue swirled around the tip, making him gasp and his cock twitch.

Kissing her way back up his body, she positioned herself above his cock, her hand on his shoulders and his hands now on her hips. Smiling at him, she lowered herself gently, reverently onto his cock. She gasped as he slid easily inside her, and then began to move her hips in long slow circles.

He looked up adoringly, matching his movement to hers, his strong hands pushing her down onto him. A hand strayed towards her nipples, but she shook her head, gently. "Please, just accept this as my gift. Later you can take anything you want from me, but please, just once, let me give it freely."

He acquiesced without a fight and moaned in earnest as she started to ride him harder, her strong, elegant horse rider's legs gripping him tightly. She stroked his face, tracing his lips with her finger. He sucked it in rolling his tongue expertly round it, and then gasped as her lovemaking reached a new intensity.

She could feel him inside her, recognised the signs from yesterday. He reached round and rubbed her clit. The effect was electric, like pushing a button. His groans mingled with hers, growing still more in intensity before they both gasped, a perfectly shared moment.

Funnybunny collapsed on him, enjoying the feel of his naked body, the way he smelt, the touch of his hands. She smiled up at him, kissed him, then went to kneel meekly by the bed.

"I am ready now, sir," she whispered, the tingle of fear and excitement building one more....

Quickly, he re-tied her as she had been when she awoke, her arms tight behind her, pushing her small, pert breasts out, her legs held obscenely wide in the spreader bar.

He lifted her onto the bed easily, her knees at the edge of the bed so her legs drooped over the edge. She lay there, worried, uncomfortable, vulnerable, scared. He moved in and out of her vision, clearly preparing things. She struggled to see, to be able to know what he had in store for her, but no... He was always just too much out of vision.

A couple of times he walked over to make sure she was ok, but there were few words spoken, She knew him well enough to know he was building the tension, making her wait, worry, become aroused. It was working. She squirmed, aware that he would be able to see her wetness. She felt such a slut lying there; open for him, turned on by the thoughts of what he would do.

Suddenly he was there. He looked straight into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, moaned. "Yes, sir," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, his face calm, serious. Leaning forward, he slapped her pussy hard. 3, then 4 times, giving her little time to recover between each.

The feeling was electric. She yelped, gasped, then bit down hard on her lower lip, moaning, as the tears came to her eyes.

He stopped, and then thrust a finger in roughly, feeling her buck herself at his finger, trying to get it deeper. Soon there were 3 fingers, but he would not let her cum. He carried on, impassively, watching her face, learning the signs, but always holding off, until she was thrashing and sobbing with need.

Retracting his fingers completely, he knelt, blowing on her wet lips. The sensation kept her on edge, so close to the orgasm she so desperately needed. He stood and caressed her face with his still wet fingers, letting her lick and suck them clean, encouraging her with gentle words. Then his fingers ran through her hair. He grasped it firmly, and pulled her to her feet. She cried out in pain, her eyes looking into his, conveying the agony, but drawing comfort from his gaze.

He slapped her face, drawing tears. She had never expected that from him. She looked away, aware of the other times she had been subjected to that. The change was sudden- he kissed her, comforting her, understanding that she could not cope with that contact, and respecting it. Her whispered thanks and readiness for more reassured the both of them, strengthening the deep bond they had.

Gently, he removed the choker he had given her. She gasped - was that now the end? "Sir..." she started.

He shook his head, holding out a true slave's collar, leather, red, with her name on it. He tightened it around her neck, much tighter than the choker, restricting her breathing a little. Her face reddened a little, but the look in his eyes told her how much it aroused him. Next was the ball gag - again tight. She knew that he enjoyed seeing her drool and made sure this time that she let it happen as prettily as she could, arching her back to make sure it caught her aching nipples.

His fingers ran all over her body, teasing it, arousing it, making her the very centre of his attention. She loved being this vulnerable to him, feeling helpless, yet safe. Utterly his. He stroked, caressed, grasped, pinched, slapped ... touched her in every way imaginable, learning the reactions of her body: enjoying, no rejoicing in the feel of her soft, pliable, sensual body.

Next were nipple clamps, pretty silver ones with a delicate chain, but the feeling was far from delicate. The intense shooting pains set her breasts on fire and had her squirming within seconds. He smiled at her, tugging on the chain, making her try to follow him with her feet still in the bar.

The pain, the humiliation was intense, and yet she was so aroused by it. She caught sight of herself in a mirror, and knew this was not accidental - that he wanted her to see the full splendour of her tied, helpless body.

The mirror also meant she could see him step behind her with a paddle and a cane. She shook her head urgently, but he smiled, and brought the paddle down hard, twice on each cheek. She groaned into the gag, but then screamed when the paddle became the cane.

She fell to her knees burying her face in the rug in front of her, but it could not block out the searing pain in her buttocks. Two more ice hot lines were added to the two already there, and then she felt his gentle, loving touch once more, easing away the pain and helping her once more onto the bed.