|Vanished Pt. III
by Suzie Samuels ©
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* * * * *
It was fortunate Master inherited money and thousands of acres from his paternal grandfather. Here he built his dream compound and concentrated on his passion. It was he and some of his friends, who built everything at this high desert mountain compound. Master owns thousands of the surrounding acres ensuring everyone's privacy here at the compound. It is so remote his closest neighbor is over a mile away in any direction or so I have been told.
You must understand Master's passion is not one that is generally accepted by the public. He trains women and men, too, bringing out their submissiveness. To the underground D/s culture Master Geoff is a leader and trainer of both new Dominants and submissives. Hence his need for a place well away from prying eyes.
Once a person undertakes Master Geoff's training, Master sees it as his sacred duty to train them to be their best and to protect them. The person must give Master Geoff total control over their body and mind. He does not take well to airheads and most do not even make it through the screening process. Most who seek Master's training are well educated, it is just that they choose to allow someone else control of their body. These intelligent women and men make lifestyle choices relinquishing control to their Master. He successfully creates submissives and has a global market for 'his subs', as he always refers to them. Their Master's who have identified their submissive traits but do not feel they bring out the best sub traits in them entrust them to my Master. Their Master's are never disappointed in his results. It is sort of a finishing school for submissives.
Master created his club for his friends and himself and hence it developed into a thriving business. The first time I heard the term 'club members' was my second day and I was about to be collared. I did not even pay any attention nor think of the implications until much later because at the time men held my breasts as the third stranger was about to pierce my unanaesthetized nipples. The terror I felt still haunts me, occasionally the pain revisiting me in my nightmares. Now my nipple rings are a part of my body and when I am alone I often play with the rings making my nipples stand up straight and hard like bullets on a key ring.
You see each visiting Dom pays Master Geoff handsomely for the right to be a part of what he has created. Dominants come here to try out and acquire new subs or be able to practice their culture in a totally open manner. It is sort of a retreat where there are neither questions asked nor recriminations made about their chosen lifestyle. Master has a waiting list that is pages long with the next opening six and a half months away. Some of his closest friends have almost taken up residence with their personal subs in tow.
* * * * *
Apparently Master has been a Dom all his life and by age twenty he had his first live-in sub. As a Dom he is a caring Master who seeks out people that need to totally submit. He takes his responsibilities very seriously. When I hear that I wonder just how come I am here, until I met him I certainly never thought of myself as a submissive, in fact I never even knew what the word meant, I am not even sure I had ever heard the word, it the truth be known.
Master swears that until he found me he had always made sure the novices made educated choices and that it was truly consensual. Of course as a responsible Master, he ensures everything done here in the training center is always safe and sane.
I do now believe Master Geoff when he says his taking of me was an anomaly. I called it kidnapping. He calls it, having saved my life. I certainly would have died a horrendously horrible death within minutes if he had not rescued me from my wrecked car. You see within minutes of him pulling me unconscious from my crumpled and rolled car, it exploded into a fireball starting yet another forest fire. But for him, those flames would have consumed me. To this day I am not sure why he chose to take me as his own instead of training me and marketing me to his foreign clientele or having the good grace to return me to my family, but he took me in every sense of the word.
Others have offered Master great sums of money for me; I blush thinking about how much he has turned down. It scares me. I must admit to sometimes daydreaming of some sheik offering him more money than he can refuse and my ownership being transferred. So far he puts his arm around protectively tucking me into his shoulder saying, "No, Suzie, is not for sale, she is my slut. However would you like to use her tonight?" At that point I could die of embarrassment and I grasp at his arm hoping he recognizes my distress. But to date no amount of pleading saves me from being shared with the other. I will tell you more about some of those nights later.
I am glad I am his and I live to please him. I feel freer now than I ever was in my previous life and back then I thought I had everything. I didn't. Though being shared is still unsettling, however just thinking about being shared does make me wet and I spasm. I hate to admit even to myself that I like it.
* * * * *
My Master's home is a rustic cabin and accompanying compound, it is modeled after the old-style log cabins but it is much larger and of course very modern. 'The cabin', as everyone calls it, is open concept; the kitchen area is delineated by a long island and snack bar. There is a huge bathroom that he added on just before my arrival and then a year ago he added a second floor loft with bedrooms. Until the second story was added the only bedroom was right in the central room on a raised dais, well that is still true. It was and is definitely the focal point of the room; it is still where we sleep. It is all one big room divided into defined areas by the furniture placement and strategically placed supporting beams that are architecturally and functionally situated. The overall dimensions of the place are huge and it feels even more spacious because of all the windows are sans curtains or drapes.
Master is a perfectionist in all things and his home reflects his personality, it is masculine, functional and kept to perfection. I remember that my first take on it was Spartan but that is not the case, there is just not unnecessary clutter anywhere. Fortunately there is staff to help me keep it to his standards.
Below there is a full basement blasted out of the rock at the front of the house, the back is a walkout. Before I go any further let me try to describe as best as I can what I saw from the stairs when I was first led down there. Promise I will tell you later why I was led down there. The room is a beautifully decorated lounge albeit very masculine with heavy burgundy leather furniture separated into several conversation areas. The pool table area and the well stocked bar are the best I have ever seen. There are a couple of unusual features about the room; one is the bare rock face wall on either side of the room. The other feature I will tell you about later.
Over the pool table on brass chains from the beamed ceiling hangs an exquisite tiffany shade giving off a myriad of colors dancing across the ceiling and walls. I made a discovery during the first party I attended about that shade. It was no store bought shade. Obviously it was custom-made for Master since it is a D/s storyboard. The erotic images displayed in those sixteen panels are anatomical correct in every detail. I love having the privilege of walking around it alone, reading the pictogram, it always works its erotic magic making my juices flow then I want Master to take me so badly. I enjoy seeing the looks on the novices' faces as they recognize its significance.
But for all of planned interior beauty it is the spectacular view beyond that captivates every visitor including me. The whole back wall is glass with two sets of French doors that on club nights are flung wide open. Thankfully lots of bug zappers keep the critters at bay, too much bare flesh to have mosquitoes, don't you know. It is almost beyond my verbal skills to adequately describe the view. Spectacular. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. All come to mind immediately when I think about the view. You see the mountainside drops off considerably for several hundred yards through a groomed forest of tall pines. Beyond a small clearing where Gold Miner's Creek cascades over a precipice is the reason Master chose this location. A gorgeous irregularly shaped lake is back dropped against the soaring weathered mountain peaks. It is not unusual to see families of deer or other wildlife watering down there at dawn and dusk when we are out running. I love when Master takes me down to play in the cascading cool water. Of course bathing suits are unheard of up here.
Just off to the east of the cabin's multi-level patio is the compound woven amongst the trees; it is really a miniature resort. There are several smaller cabins housing the visiting Doms and their live-ins plus the dormitories. The first dormitory houses the trainers and staff while the second one is the compound's centerpiece. Here the 'in-training' men and women, called novices live and are trained in the attached recreation center. The center is very well appointed and designed for the training of several novices simultaneously though usually there are never more than seven or eight in residence.
It resounds with the echo of large bare hands landing on the novices' bare asses or the swish of a riding crop reddening someone's flesh accentuated by the novices' moans. Perhaps later I can tell you more about this facility. I have never been to the dormitories but have spent time in each of the cabins. Those are stories in and of themselves, alas later.
* * * * *
I am allowed into the compound only when I am leashed and accompanying Master. You know, it is still so strange to use those words it almost embarrasses me. However living it is not strange at all, it just seems, how it is. I am proud Master chose me as his own, that I wear his collar. I purport myself with dignity as Master's chosen one, with my eyes downcast unless I am specifically instructed to meet his or another Dom's eyes. I had to learn that the hard way, it did not come naturally.
Master chooses my attire daily. It is never a lot and always extremely erotic. My wardrobe consists of bustiers, corsets made with whalebone that lace tight cinching my waist and push-up bras in a rainbow of colors. In matching colors, Master dresses me below the waist even more scantly, just garter belts, hose or lacey-topped stay-ups. You see I have no panties I must immediately be available to service Master's needs. He also purchased me an array of stiletto heels in matching colors. He always tops off my lingerie with one of my capes that range from those that sweep the floor regally to ones that just barely cover my cheeks if I stand very straight walking with care. Considering this great array of erotic clothing, I seldom wear much of it, as Master prefers me total nude when we are alone except for my collar and cuffs.
My only non-erotic ware is my collection of sports bras, socks and exercise shoes. Master and I run daily at sunrise for about three miles. What a sight I must be running along side him dressed only in my bra, shoes and socks while he is fully clad in shorts and sometimes sporting his black T-shirt emblazoned with Master Geoff's Slave Farm in his favorite electric blue color. I wear my collar and he has the lead on it, but for the life of me I cannot understand the necessity since I have promised repeatedly that I will not run away. Master says. "It is not to keep you from escaping, it is to remind you of who controls your body."
In addition to doing the three-mile run I must work out another hour daily. He has a very extensive gym set up at the front of the house sandwiched between the kitchen and his office section. Over the years he has obviously invested in purchasing the best of equipment just like what I used to pay to use. I use it while Master works on his Internet-based business. I enjoy him watching me approvingly as I work hard to meet his expectations. I have grown even prouder of my body tone under Master's tutelage.
* * * * *
It was on my tenth day here Master said, "You must always be in the best of physical shape to please me and my guests. You are expected to use that equipment here for an hour a day plus we will run daily at sun-up." He said pointing with a nod of his head. I guess I didn't jump up off my pallet fast enough because when he unlocked my cuffs I learned what happens when I do not jump to his beckon call. In the subsequent days I wished I had not been so tardy. Now though I leak just thinking of his discipline and the freedom that comes with it. Later that day I thought I had been plunged into hell on earth and that Master was the devil himself all because of my errant ways.
I had still been sleeping when he came to me making his proclamation. He roughly pulled me to my feet and dragged me out to run with him in the gray dawn totally nude. At first my muscles refused to cooperate as they were cramped from the tension over the prior two days plus the accident trauma. As the cool air filled my lungs I could feel the tension leave my body and my gait became nearly normal. The beauty of the terrain caused me to stumble over an exposed root as my head swiveled to and fro trying to take it all in, only the short lead master had me on kept me from going head first into the dirt. Even as it was I skinned both knees and the palm of my right hand breaking off two more red acrylic nails.
He picked me up by the upper arms; I cringed expecting a blow or at least a scalding retort. Instead he guided me to a tree stump pushing me down and kneeling before me he gently brushed the dirt and the pine needles off my knees. He did, what seemed at the time to be an absolutely uncharacteristic thing; he took his handkerchief, wet it from his water bottle and cleaned my knees. I sniffled quietly trying to calm myself as I picked at the blob of pine pitch on my hand. My undoing though was when after cleaning my hand he leaned in and kissed my palm looking up into my eyes. No words were spoken, I sobbed uncontrollably. How could the devil do such a kind thing? However the kindness stopped there, he let me hobble slowly back to the cabin. Looking at the outside of the cabin as I hobbled along made me rethink my initial impression of the cabin's purpose. It is a huge stone and log edifice handsome in a rugged sort of way and obviously his permanent home.
Back in the cabin, he was back to his old self; he unceremoniously took me to the bathroom for his special brand of bathing. Only this time there was a sense of urgency, a sense of brutality to his movements, he scared me as he drove the enema tube hard up into my bowels. "Ugh! Master, what have I done? Why are you so upset with me? I will gladly run with you, I love running and in the future I will be more careful. Just, please, I beg you, tell me what you are upset about?" Nothing not even a smile. I might as well as not have spoken.
He lifted me out of the tub and vigorously dried me. Master Geoff reattached my collar and cuffs adding the anklets with the short chain. He clipped on my leash. Now he spoke, "This morning I gave you an order and you showed no emotion, no eagerness to compile, now you will learn what happens to sluts when you do not do as you are told and do it eagerly."
"Move, Suzie." I hobbled out of the bathroom headed for what I considered the discipline posts.
"Stop!" I froze. "Did I tell you where to go? I don't think so and who told you can think for yourself, bitch." I could feel his eyes boring through my back. A visible shiver ran down my back. "Left."
"Stop." I had not gone any more than three feet when he brought me up short with my leash. He moved around in front of me and opened another of those camouflaged doors like the one to his dressing room. My heart pounded. He removed my lead putting it back in his pocket and removing a short silver chain from his shirt pocket. Instinctively I stepped back. His hand reached out and vice-like seized my left breast and with his little finger through my nipple ring he pulled me back to him. My eyes overflowed and I gasped with the excruciating pain, but I stepped to him hurriedly.
"Stay." The sternness in his voice convinced me that he was in no mood to be broached.
"Gush." I moaned. My nipple wounds were unhealed and the pressure he was exerting made me cry. "Stop, please." I whined like a child.
"Just hold still." He clipped the chain onto each nipple ring and tugged. I momentarily felt my knees buckle.
"Come on," He said as he led me down the stairs, the bottom steps were bathed in bright sunlight that helped assuage my nerves. There laid out below me was the most well appointed lounge I had ever seen, gawking I stumbled yet again and I came down hard on my right ankle landing at his feet. I love the smelled of the leather; the tannin released in the bright morning sunlight was intoxicating. That was my first glimpse of the lower lever.
Having landed at his feet, he pulled me up by my nipple chain. Boy did that make me come up in a hurry. His large right hand squeezed my upper arm as he propelled me towards the dark recess at the front of the house. The ragged stonewalls did not make me feel any better.
It took me several seconds to realize that I was limping along side him towards a huge mirrored wall. For the first time I was able to get a real perspective of this man compared to myself. I felt insignificant. He stood me in front of it and then stepped behind me. I looked so small standing there in front of him. His arms snaked around me as he pulled me back against him nuzzling my neck. How could he be so cruel one minute and now be nuzzling me as if it was all a game of foreplay?
"Relax, Suzie, relax." He whispered in my left ear as he nibbled on its lobe. His hands explored my mid section, neither sexual nor threatening in his movements. I could feel myself thawing. My eyes roamed investigating my surroundings in the mirror.
Without warning he pulled downward hard on my nipple chain. I screamed, a scream of absolute pain, horrible pain it ended in a whimper, as he whispered so gently. "Close your eyes and let your body enjoy being petted, slut."
My eyes riveted on his in the mirror. I so wanted to defy him. It would have felt so good, but another pull on my chain and I felt my knees buckle. "Nope, you don't get out of it that easily. NOW, close your eyes and feel."
His arms came up to my wounded throbbing breasts and he slowly massaged them. He kept nuzzling, my head involuntarily rolled the opposite way opening my neck for his ministration, he whispered, "You are such a slut, my beautiful slave. Your nipples are so hard and I bet if I put my finger in your cunt you will be dripping wet. Aren't you?"
"I hate your guts, you bastard. My nipples are standing up because you pulled on the chain you asshole." I spit the words out.
"Tut tut such words from such a beautiful woman." He pushed my feet apart with his feet, making room for first one then two, forcing my legs open, wider and wider. Ensuring that my private parts were open for his exploration. I tried to remain rooted. His size won. My legs open in an inverted V. My eyes were shut tight and I tried to think only of my family not of what was happening here. I saw them in my mind. I was where he could not hurt me.
His hands massaged lower and lower, I could feel his fingers on both hands creeping between my legs. He massaged the inside of my thighs with feathers like touches on that really fine soft skin found in that vulnerable spot. My body was betraying me, no matter how much I tried to stay away in my mind. Even before his fingers crept up onto my now nude pussy lips, I knew I was lost. A soft moan escaped my tightly clasp lips. He chuckled into my ear.
His fingers slipped deeply into my wet cunt. "You were born to be a slave, Suzie. Here taste." His fingers traced my lips wet with my own juices. My lips parted as if they belonged to another. Greedily I sucked my own love juices off my Master's fingers as our eyes met and held. I could have drowned in his dark brown eyes. My rapidly beating heart gave away my last vestige of defiance as the fingers of his left hand played with my clit.
Breaking the spell he took my hand and pulled me into a dark room, I pulled back, afraid again. He flipped on the light switch. The room was bathed in a warm glow from the indirect lighting; it sort of had a golden cast to it. It made it seem very warm and cozy. Only low wattage spotlights strategically placed over strange looking equipment spoiled the ambiance. It terrified me. I could not name the strange looking paraphernalia.
The walls were left natural, just the way the rock blasted out, the drill marks still evident. The room was not large and there appeared to be a bathroom off to the right, I could hear the unmistakable sound of the bubbling water in a hot tub, somewhere out of my sight. But I could not take my eyes off the scene before me.
The floor was sort of spongy, like it was covered in gymnastic mats covered in a deep burgundy. Overhead there were hooks and rings in the heavy beams and several were on rails of sorts. The walls were dotted with rings and what looked like the control arm for a clothesline. The worst of all was the high narrow black table resting on a gleaming white cabinet. There were stirrups with wide straps in place and matching straps in several spots hanging down the sides. Likely the scariest was the IV pole standing at the top corner.
I backed away to the door. It was locked. I felt the blood drain out of my face. I collapsed to the floor. Master tangled the key from his finger, taunting me. A defeated sob escaped, as I looked into the face of the man who had claimed me.
He stood over me, his hand out. Finally as if in a trance I took his hand and he hefted me up to my feet. "Come, trust me, little one."
He pulled me towards a funny looking thing that was the best description I had for it. It scared the hell out of me. I wanted to run, but my legs were wooden, as wooden as the legs on the thing. He called it a horse that is not what I would have called it. He stood me beside it. "Stay." He talked to me as he would that old flea bitten dog of his.
I stayed, my eyes sad as I looked up at him, silently pleading for consideration. How could he have been so tender to me only minutes ago and now he was, going to, -- to what? What was he going to do to me?
I lifted my cuffed hands to my mouth in horror brushing my wounded chained nipples. Ripples of pain ran through me settling into the center of my groin, deep into the very core of my womanhood. My hands visibly shook; my nerves were so on edge. A perplexed shadow crossed my face, how is it possible that could I feel my labia flutter in response to the pain.
It certainly could not be the thought of what he was going to do to me that elicited the response, could it? He busied himself in the storage area of the examination table. I felt his eyes on me, I felt so vulnerable. My fight or flight response was working overtime. I wheeled on him, squaring my sagging shoulders. "No."
I could feel my face burning from anger as much as embarrassment. Our eyes met, locked into a starring duel. He never moved a muscle. Time stood still. My heart pounded. My lower lip quivered, as the moment was drawn-out.
"Yes." He spoke the word so softly, his voice so kind that it shattered the last of my will power as if he had struck me. A single sob escaped me. I fought for control he would not win, my very being depended on me taking a stand now. "No more, Geoff. It is time I went home."
"You are home." He approached the horse on the opposite side with a dilido in each hand. He fit them into special brackets working as if I wasn't even there. I was rooted. Speech was lost to me. The fight was gone out of me.
To my horror my body was warming from the inside out. I let out a long sigh of resignation. I could feel my cunt tighten involuntarily. Surely my body was rebelling, shutting down, but even as I willed that to be true I felt moisture seeping out, no matter how tightly I held my legs.
I tried again. "Please, sir." I whispered. "Please."
He smiled kindly but shook his head no. "Come on put your foot up into the stirrup."
I heard voices or was it a television somewhere. No, we were alone or were we? I looked up at this beast, this abuser my eyes asking what I could not find the voice to ask. I turned my head in the direction of the door.
I must have been ashen, "You look like you saw a ghost." A chuckle.
Oh my gawd, how could I not have realized what I had been looking at. As if on a swivel I wheeled towards Master, my mouth agape. I literally felt my heart sink. My head shook no, no. I screamed. NO!
"Yup. Wave to the nice folks."
Why had I not realized that it was a wall-to-wall mirror? Why had the significance of it been lost on me? Why had I not realized that only because of the absolute darkness inside here had it seemed like a mirror from the outside?
I could not go through with this. I can't. "NOW!" he barked at me. Still all I could do was stare at the thing. My chin almost to my chest I rolled my head more than shook it. He took my nipple chain and gave it a twist. My legs buckled. He caught me.
"Up you go, left foot in the stirrup." He said as I left a rush of cooler air sensing others had come into the room. I just had to see. I wheeled around, my left foot mid way to the stirrup and the movement caused me to loose my balance.
Hands reached for me, righting me, many hands grabbing me in many places. I froze. I shook them off me. My pride in the way, I valiantly put my foot in his damn stirrup, but I could not propel my right leg over as I have thousands of times onto a real horse. I stood frozen with one foot up the other a step back opening me though not giving a view to the world beyond the mirror.
I closed my eyes saying a silent prayer. The thought of becoming the subject of a group of voyeurs was revolting, I felt my bile rise. From the other side of the thing and from behind I felt hot dry hands under my arms; I was being lifted up my right leg pulled into position. I stood jockey style over this horse of kinds. He, Master, ever the man in charge told Jimmy and Ronnie to lower me. I went rigid.
The men laughed. What were they laughing at? What did they know I didn't?
Master moved to my ear and whispered, "Let them lower you and I will guide you or we will leave you standing here." As he spoke a third man, what was his name stepped in with rawhide laces. I watched as he tied my feet into the stirrups, first one then the other.
"Imagine if we left you here, just like this. How long would it take before your knees would buckle and imagine if you fell on those, huh? Think about it, Suzie."
"OK have it your way." The hands letting go as if orchestrated, I was left standing over a pair of dilidos ready to do damage to my inners if I lost my balance.
I ripple of laughter erupted outside.
"Come back quick. Hurry, please." I begged. Almost immediately Master was at my side, holding me.
You know you have ruined their fun." I turned towards him and felt my center of gravity change and had it not been for his strength I would have been impaled on dilildos. "Wise choice, though."
Other hands moved in, replacing his. I watched as he moved away and picked up a tube of something. He put a large dab on the ends of his fingers. I watched transfixed. My buttocks tightening as he moved towards me. He smeared the clear lubricant between my legs starting at the front. He reamed around and around my pussy, pushing ever deeper. Bringing his hand to my face, he ran his sticky wet finger under my nose and then under his own. Master took a deep breath slowing letting it out, "Ah." Smiling he licked his fingers one at a time in his indolent manner.
My knees started wobbling from the stress of the unnatural stance. Only the willing well-placed hands kept me out of trouble. Seeing me in trouble, he efficiently put a liberal amount of lubricant around my puckered little hole. There was nothing I could do but let him explore between my cheeks, I gasp as his finger drilled into me. I attempted to pull away, only to be stayed by strong hands.
I knew my fate was sealed. I could be seen as a whimpering weak woman, or could call on the skills that had let me work in a man's world for years. I chose the latter; never let them see that I was anything but totally comfortable in every setting. I squared my shoulders and defiantly lifted my head and met his eyes. I gave a terse nod and smiled. I could only hope that I could handle my fate with grace.
"She is a tiger, Geoff, can you handle her or do you want to sell her to me." Buddy joked with Master.
"And you think you are man enough to take her from me because I will never sell my Suzie." He said petting my head as if I was a cherished pet. No matter how scared I was about what Geoff had masterminded for me, I instinctively knew I was better off with him than any of these other brutes. You know the old saying the devil you know is better than the one you don't. Well I was sticking real tight with Master; he was about to find out what a good little slut I could be.
Master started my descent with a push on my shoulders then moved to make sure that the dildos squarely entered me. All I could do was close my eyes and bite my lip; I could taste my blood as I felt the oversized invaders opening me up. A single tear ran down my face. No way would I show any of these voyeurs weakness, they were going to be disappointed, I had a plan.
I felt the intruder push against my cervix bruising it. I breathed in deeply and let it out even slower as the longer, though more slender dildo was forced around a curve in my bowel. I closed my eyes and saw stars. I prayed, "Dear God, give me the strength to smile at these bastards, Amen."
I turned to face the mirror and gave them a radiant smile. I looked up into the face of Master Geoff and met his eyes. "Thank you." I whispered.
To my surprise he gave me the biggest smile and I knew it was genuine, he was proud of me. He leaned in and gave me a deep kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth. Pulling back, he whispered, "That a girl." The unseen audience was given another treat as I wiggled my ass to show I was tough. "Thank you, Lord." I silently said with my eyes heavenward.
In his bravado tone of voice, "We will see if you are really that tough." He pulled me forward and fastened my wrist cuffs to a ring attached in the stonewall, pulling me off balance, stretching me forward. The pressure on my clit was unbelievable and if I moved in any way, it was even worse. The pain was excruciating, but then so was the pleasure. All I could think of was that this was just too strange for words. I could feel a climax climbing, but not peaking.
I needed to come. I needed to right now. My body was craving the release. I seemed to me stalled on the way up. Damn!
He walked towards me, smiling. "Think you are pretty tough, my pretty." The extra hands had quietly left the room as Master returned to me. In his right hand he carried a flail, at least I later learned that was what it was called. I thought it was a whip, how did I know any different. He brought it to show me.
"In future, you will kiss it, but today you will learn to love it, tomorrow you will show it love." I guess I was in shock because I didn't think he could or would hurt me, but now I was facing even more degradation and humiliation in front of that unknown audience. Cowards are how I thought of them. He held out his own hand and brought the flail down on his left hand so hard, it whistled in the air. I silently watched.
Stepping behind me, he wasted no time. How was I going to face this new challenge? I called on my days of meditation, choosing a sharp jut in the stone wall, I centered on it. One, two, three. He let me catch my breath and let the pain build. I could hardly believe the heat in my buttocks. He continued until I had received no less than ten strikes of this tool of pain. Number six and seven were the worst by then my nose was running, snot smearing itself across my face from my antics. My screams echoed in the small room. The onlookers were forgotten. My world was reduced to that flail, the man behind it and my body as we shared this brutal event. To my surprise the ninth and tenth were something wondrous, I was off somewhere else, off into that utopian place.
It was wondrous in the fact that my body spoke, telling me that it liked the intense pain. My body rocking on my clit, my cunt and asshole filled with vibrating plastic soared. I experienced an orgasm that just kept going and going, climbing to heights that I never thought possible. The sheen of sweat on my body made me glisten when I snuck a glimpse in the mirror. I panted and sobbed.
Only when it was over, when my climax was waning, did I feel any discomfort. My Master came forward with a warm cloth and washed me. He gently dried my face. Then lifting my chin he gave me a tender loving kiss, slow and sensual.
Hands, not his quickly, undid my hands and feet restraints while balancing me. No one said anything. I was lifted off my invaders, a gush of female juices dripped out. My Master took me in his arms like a baby and kissed my nose. He carried my over to a cot, kneeling he laid me on my hot ass on the navy percale sheets. "Ohh." I whimpered and rolled over on to my stomach. He covered me with a pretty quilt.
"Sleep, my slave. You served me well. Thank you." I could feel myself drifting off into a deep dreamless sleep even before he shut the door leaving the light on.
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