Association

After removing the gloves, he tied my wrists to the desk again, but left enough slack for me to manipulate the mouse on its pad. Good, he was learning too, I grinned behind the zipper he had just closed across my mouth.

He replaced the chopsticks with tweezer clamps, which he tightened much further than necessary. After checking I had everything I needed to work, he left.

When he closed the door behind him, I sighed at the thought of spending the whole afternoon with no distraction but the thousands of hot pictures I had to sort. On second thought, this was the way many people escape from their real work. I certainly had no reason to complain.

Yet, one hour later, I found I was hardly inspired to continue my job. The last scene I had observed, a woman tied to a diving board, had sent me to fantasyland again, and my fingers froze on the keyboard.

I stared blindly at the screen, letting my imagination bring me to the side of that pool, waiting for him to tie me up. A whole plot formed in my mind. I would resist a little, just for fun. Maybe I would even try to run away, enjoying his pursuit and how his arms would finally catch me, hold me still, claim me as his possession.

I must have daydreamed for nearly half an hour until I put an end to my own teasing, since it definitely was not the best way to calm down. My eyes went wearily back to the screen, as boring as before, but when they moved down to the start bar and spotted the icon for Internet Explorer, I sprung back to life. Now, this could be fun.

The browser opened on Yahoo! and I typed Geoffrey's name in the search box.

--GEOFFREY--

What was that quote again? "Idle hands are the devil's playground." Though I was more than a little surprised that Sabrina had started her Internet search with my name. Weren't the photographs enough?

Apparently not. But right now, I had to finish the photo shoot, develop the pictures, and get them off to FedEx before 6:00 p.m. And here it was almost 2:00, and I still had a ton of close-ups to complete.

I began to realize why most stories about 24/7 slave relationships are fiction.

While I was adjusting the bright spotlights for the umpteenth time, I had a sudden inspiration. Wouldn't it be so much easier if the goddamned flash simply moved itself whenever I needed to change its angle?

I bounded up the stairs to my study, catching a glimpse of Sabrina frantically trying to click the web browser closed. I wasn't going to bust her for that one today; I'd let her think she was getting away with something until I felt like punishing her in a serious fashion.

Which was every single minute of the day, I admitted to myself. Despite our less-than-auspicious first act, I could see the entrance to the relationship rabbit hole dead ahead.

And right now, I wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into the tunnel of love with Sabrina's hand clasped tight in mine.

But deadlines loomed large. Besides, money came in very handy, especially when placing $2,000 orders at my favorite custom leatherworks.

I untied her from the chair, strapped her arms and hands behind her back, and led her down to the studio, where I replaced her day gag with a leather hood that had open eyeholes. With some wire and a roll of duct tape, I soon had a spotlight attached to the top of her head.

"Stand over there. No, move over a few inches to the left. That's it, now bend your head down a few degrees. No, no, no, that's too far, up a little. That's it, perfect, now hold it, don't move. Okay, bend your knees a little, but hold the angle. Excellent. Closer, closer to the control panel, turn a little to the right, I'm getting too much glare off the LCD. That's it, nice, hold it."

And on and on for another hour as I snapped roll after roll of portraits of the toner cartridge and other less-than-lively components.

"Some day, they'll make these things in a different color so they don't look like the underside of a battleship that hasn't seen daylight since World War II. Okay, that should do it. Thank you."

I clicked off the light on top of her head and left her standing while I unloaded the film from my various cameras and prepared to go into the darkroom.

"I'm afraid there's not enough room for two of us in there. Do you mind hanging around while I get these rolls developed?"

I didn't even bother to watch Sabrina's head nod in agreement as I started pulling down a chain that was looped through a pulley nestled high above in the scaffolding.

First, I had to insert and engage the electronic amusements into her two lower orifices, then lock them in tight behind the crotch strap. Next, I ordered her to lie on her stomach on the floor, and wrapped a long leather binder around her legs with at least a dozen straps running from thighs to feet. Finally, I secured the chain to the buckle across her ankles and pulled until her head was hanging just a few inches off the floor.

"Oh, I have to get some pictures of this," I said as I put a new roll of film into one of my cameras.

"Especially your eyes," I continued as I knelt down to point the lens into her face. After exactly twenty-four clicks, I removed the can and rummaged through one of the nearby boxes.

"To each his, or her, own darkness," I remarked as I slipped the blindfold around the top of her head.

"See you soon, or at least sooner than you'll see me."

--SABRINA--

Hanging upside down and already feeling my feet go numb while my head was boiling with too much blood pressure, I should have been angry at Geoffrey, or at least exasperated.

Days ago, he had overpowered me with his strength, both mental and physical. Now, he intimidated me, which was quite unprecedented in my interaction with men.

Who was he, really?

I had asked myself that same question over and over while I was helping him in the studio. I couldn't help admiring his patience and precision, knowing he took the same care when he was dealing with me, and I greatly enjoyed being a part of his work, even if that meant I had gone down to the level of an electrical appliance in the large spectrum of beings and things.

And now I was a bag of wheat hanging from the ceiling. The vibrators rapidly brought me to a pre-orgasmic state, but thanks to the low speed he had turned them on to, they took an incredibly long time to take me one step further, to find the relief I had been waiting for since early this morning. By that time, I felt so dizzy that I lost consciousness in the middle of the quake and woke up with a terrible headache. The vibrators were still buzzing though, and I prepared myself for another round.

But it wasn't to be. I hadn't heard Geoffrey return, but my heart skipped a beat when his stern voice growled:

"Did you just come without permission?"

Oh, man. Sorry. Completely forgot.

"Well, good," he continued, "I've been busy in the darkroom for far too long. I sure could use some exercise."

He lowered me slowly until my head and shoulders safely hit the ground, then dropped the rest of me.

Ouch. That hurt. But not as much as the sudden surge of blood back into my paralyzed limbs.

Knowing my legs would hardly respond, he pulled me up and carried me over his shoulder to the living room where he dropped me face down on the couch.

"Considering what happened last night," he said, "I'm reluctant to use the whip. But a good spanking should teach you never to disobey my orders".

A spanking? As much as I was relieved to escape the whip, I was also disappointed. Wasn't I way beyond spanking? And wasn't he? This was too easy. Child's play. Oh well, at least I was saving my butt from serious pain.

However, when he took me by the hips and lay me across his knees, pushing my head down and locking my leather-clad legs between his, my stomach twisted with fear. Being so close to him made me feel even more defenseless.

With increasing apprehension, I felt him unbuckle the crotch strap, turn the vibrators off, then remove the one from my vagina, but leaving the other in my ass.

When his hand impacted my bottom with a loud report that made me lose my breath for a second, I once again regretted his not deploying the whip. It might have been easier to deal with.

--GEOFFREY--

Nineteen. And twenty. My hand stung from the repeated contact with Sabrina's now-crimson backside, but it was a good kind of pain, one she undoubtedly shared, judging by the moans leaking from underneath the hood that still surrounded her head.

I lifted her off my knees and lay her face-up across the length of the couch. She looks so good in leather, I half-whispered. Good enough to eat. Or beat, as the case may be.

A few long pieces of rope and the jar of udder cream; it didn't take long to assemble the tools for my next project.

"So you want to come, do you?" I asked her in what I presumed was an imitation of de Sade, but probably came off more like Snidely Whiplash.

Her leather-covered head nodded affirmatively.

"So be it," I said as I doubled one of the lengths of cord around her waist, then ran the ends over the back of the couch and triangulated them down to the legs, where I knotted them near the floor.

I sat down next to her feet and unbuckled the thick strap holding the bottom of the leg binder to her soles.

"What big toes you have, my dear," I growled, wondering if Red Riding Hood was still required reading in the modern nursery. Actually, hers were small and delicate, but I figured she got the message when she clenched them tight.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I did promise, after all."

I took the vibrator that had been in her vagina, turned it onto its highest setting, and thrust it under the leather between her thighs, its tip nestled snugly against the general area of her clitoris.

"All that time in those nasty horse hooves; your feet deserve the princess treatment."

I scooped out a handful of cream and began forcefully massaging her heels and arches, working my way slowly up to her toes.

"Easy there, Sabrina," I warned as she began thrashing a bit on the couch. "Remember, it can always get worse. In fact..."

I reached under her ass and twisted the base of the dildo still stuck firmly in her ass.

"Now, where were we? Drat, I seem to have lost my place. Best to start again."

Fifteen minutes later, I buckled the binder strap back around her newly-softened feet and roped her ankles over the arm and down to the feet of the couch.

"Having a good time?" I remarked to her still-squirming form as she shuddered violently in the midst of what I presumed had become a continuous orgasm. "But wait, there's more!"

I reached behind her back and unbuckled her hands still wrapped around her torso, then pulled them over her head and tied them down to the couch just like her ankles.

"Hmm, a little snug," I said as my hands slipped under the bottom edge of the straightjacket. "Better loosen a few straps back here; there, that's better."

My cream-slicked fingers crept up her waist until they found the tweezers around her nipples.

"Nice and slow," I said as I began easing the tiny metal ring down the arms of one of the clamps, slowly releasing her nipple from its blood-deprived prison.

"And again."

I stood up, tossed the clamps onto the coffee table, and headed toward the kitchen.

"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Do try to keep yourself amused until then.

God, I liked doing that to her.

A second later, I shortened my prayer to "I like her."

--SABRINA--

The vibrator that had shaken, stirred and eventually tortured my oh- so-sensitive bud finally stopped. Despite the perturbing presence in my rear orifice, I was able to catch my breath and calm down. My hallucination-drenched mind danced along a bright and colorful horizon created by an excess of pleasure, and I welcomed the peaceful darkness offered by the hood.

When the batteries in the second dildo died, I stretched out as much as my bonds would allow--which wasn't much--and relaxed. I was exhausted, and quite convinced that I would not need, much less ask for, another orgasm until at least one year had passed. There was no way to reach a middle ground with Geoffrey. Too much was never enough.

I was about to fall asleep when I felt him untie me. When all ropes were loose, he freed my legs from their leather casings, and helped me up on my quivering feet.

The expression on his face when he removed the hood told me I didn't look my best. Well, I felt awful. Flushed, bloated, covered in sweat, and in urgent need of a bath.

Geoffrey must have followed the same train of thoughts, because he brought me to the master bathroom as soon as dinner was finished. While the large tub was filled with warm water, he stripped me of the leather jacket and its accessories, and adorned my nakedness with only a pair of wrist cuffs made of light, shiny metal, each ornamented with a small ring.

Once in the tub, I quietly waited for him to tie me up while enjoying the warm sensation of water on my bruised body, although it was only up to my waist. When I heard an unexpected ruffling of clothes, I couldn't help turning my head, and was astonished to see Geoffrey naked and ready to join me.

Old Archimedes was right. As soon as he sat behind me, the water crested over my breasts. Yet he let the faucet continue to run. Worse, pressing his hand on my chest, he forced me to lie down on him, locking my legs under his to prevent me from slipping. The level of water came dangerously close to my mouth.

"Put your hands behind me," he finally said before connecting my cuffs with what I assumed was a short chain. What I knew for sure was that once the full weight of his body was pressed against my hands, I could no longer move.

Nor talk. He turned the water off, but not until my mouth was fully immersed. And the slightest move of my head would now prevent me from breathing through my nose. The thought should have been scary, but his presence was all the assurance I needed. I closed my eyes and decided to enjoy the bath.

--GEOFFREY--

I let Sabrina relax completely before I began softly soaping her various body parts, my hand slowly whirling across her arms, chest, torso, hips and thighs, then between her legs. She squirmed ever so slightly, but only enough to cause small ripples in the water.

Very good, I thought to myself. Her body is learning patience, not to mention prudence. I wondered if her mind was following suit. It was hard to read Sabrina; when I felt like she was on the verge of storming out in disgust, I wasn't sure if she was upset because I didn't go far enough. I tried to be strict without trending psychotic, but it was a fine line. Better to stay on the sane side; as if sanity could even be mentioned in the same sentence as our little hobby.

I decided I could get very used to cleansing her like this every single night for the rest of my life.

I lifted her head out of the water, unclipped the chain connecting her wrists beneath me, and pushed her into a sitting position.

"Can you stand?" I asked as I did likewise.

She could, and did. I helped towel her dry, then she followed me to my bedroom.

"Lie down and spread out. I'll be right back."

I dashed downstairs to fetch the jar of udder cream. An hour later, its entire contents had been firmly massaged into every pore from neck to ankles.

"Can I trust you without cuffs tonight?" I asked as I pulled back the covers and prepared to join her in bed.

But Sabrina was already sound asleep.

***

DAY 16--GEOFFREY

I hated being woken up by a ringing telephone.

"Yes, yes, I can be there. Give me an hour. Okay, forty-five minutes. Shit, is the sun even up yet? Some of us have lives we prefer over...yeah, yeah, the clock's running now, trust me. See you there. Yes, I know which table."

I slammed down the receiver. Sabrina rustled under the covers.

"Is everything okay?" she asked sleepily. I could see a bit of surprise in her eyes as she realized she wasn't bound.

"Oh, yes, fine, just ducky, I have to go meet a client for breakfast in town, and he decided to keep it a secret until he was on his way in from the airport. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm already late."

I ducked into the bathroom, plugged in my electric razor and began grinding away at yesterday's stubble. Ten minutes later, I emerged completely dressed.

"You'll have to fend for yourself this morning. There's plenty of food in the kitchen. See you in a few hours. Oh, and by the way..."

I opened one of the drawers in the bedside table and rummaged around until I found a pair of handcuffs and a ball gag.

"I'd better find you wearing these when I return."

--SABRINA--

"Where is it?" I said out loud as I was carefully searching the second drawer of the oak chest.

Resisting in bed had been bad enough. The shower, short as it was, had been another crucial test. But going through the whole morning without getting into trouble would be quite impossible if I didn't find it. Besides, Geoffrey had shown he trusted me, and I wanted to be worthy of his trust.

"But, I've got to find it first," I repeated, this time more nervously.

Lucky third drawer! There it was!

As I clicked the chastity belt in place, I felt my confidence return. At least there would be no outlet for my forbidden desires now.

I left the bedroom with the handcuffs and the gag in my hands and joyfully walked down the stairs to prepare myself breakfast.

Being free was a weird sensation. Both uncomfortable and thrilling. Awkward and exhilarating. I missed his presence, his directions, his orders. Yet I enjoyed the moment to myself. I was conscious there would be more opportunities like this one. He had a job to do, clients to see, and I was no longer the assignment he could take supervise twenty-four hours a day. My new challenge was to accommodate such moments without him, to rely on myself while respecting his rules.

Somehow, I knew this wouldn't be easy. Restraints made obedience compulsory, if not easy. Without them, I felt prone to succumb to temptation.

"What are the limits?" I asked myself as while I washed the dishes, starting with those he had left beside the sink the night before. He had never given clear indications; while I figured he didn't expect me to be a brainless doll, I also doubted he would allow me to act like the independent woman I used to be.

Could I take a dip in the pool? Probably. Could I go to his darkroom and search for the results of my photo sessions? Probably not. Could I read one of his books? Maybe. Could I go for a walk outside the property? Unlikely.

This was common sense. Still, there were many subtleties I had yet to figure out.

Curiosity is one of my main flaws, one I couldn't lock behind a belt. Once the kitchen was clean, I went back to the first floor and entered his study.

Such an impressive collection of books--classics in paperback, current bestsellers, sci-fi novels, culture encyclopedias, manga--I wouldn't have to worry about spending hours on my own if he let me read all these.

As my eyes scanned the shelves, my attention was drawn by a familiar name. Anne Rice. The queen of vampires. Except this particular book didn't seem to belong in her gothic opus. Interesting.

I had a moment of hesitation before leaving the room. The computer looked inviting, but I decided reading a book by the pool was an exceptional treat not to be missed.

Twenty minutes later, I was captivated by the adventures of Sleeping Beauty. My body was dry after a short swim thanks to the soft glow of the morning sun. But I was more aware of the heat inside me, and was grateful for the belt that saved me from mischief.

The story reminded me that I also had my own ornaments to wear. When I went to pick them up in the kitchen I glanced at the clock which told me I had better get ready for his return. I buckled the gag around my head and clicked one of the cuffs to my left wrist. Holding the book in the other hand, I went to kneel in the hallway, facing the front door. The ground was cold and hard. He would like it. And it would make up for my reading. Hopefully.