Chords that Bind Ch. 02

Cecilia thought she had just fallen asleep when she was awakened by the sound of the door opening. Her eyes were puffy and red from the tears she had shed during the night. She lay on the bed for ages, unable to sleep, or curl up in a comfortable position, or calm the din of her mind. Alone and in the dark, all the terrible thoughts and accusations of her childhood played over and over, as they were wont to on some troubled nights. But never had it been so hard to push the recollections away, and now the man called master was back. Somehow she drifted into a slumber, but it was so light the doorknob turning was enough to shake her out of her limited rest. Cecilia vowed to herself that she would refuse to cooperate.

Gerry had coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. He was going to feed her quickly. He had decided that Cecilia's training would require a less hands-on approach than he would have liked; she was beautiful and her innocence brought out something in him that only raw and untrained slaves could rouse, but this... this was business. He needed her to respond to Ashton's brand of stimuli, not his own, and since he couldn't have her without depreciating her value, he thought it best to stick to the things that, his research told him, Ashton preferred. Cross referencing social media profiles and his account information had turned up a list of fetishes and habits that Mr. Ashton searched for in his slaves, and preferences he had in his personal life. The concert pianist and conductor had dedicated his life to music, and his tastes were astounding. They gave Gerry a very concrete place to begin Cecilia's training.

"I've got breakfast for you." Gerry said to a very sullen looking Cecilia. She said nothing. Gerry released the tension in her bonds, allowing her to sit up. The blank stare that Gerry received was already growing old to his mind. "Well?" he prompted her, "What do you say girl?"

Silence. Cecilia acted as though the white padded wall was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. "I've got food for you. So what's the least you can do huh? Maybe show some gratitude?" Cecilia blinked at him. With deliberate slowness Gerald set down the tray. He unclipped the restraints on his slave-in-training's limbs, and had her across his lap. SMACK. Cecilia's face was redder than her bum, but not for long. With no warm up, and zero notice, Cecilia was having her first spanking since grade school. SMACK! WHACK! At first, Cecilia tried to do nothing. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of the stoics and Zen masters. She could hold back her discomfort. This was only a few smacks administered to her bottom after all. She could refrain from calling out.

That is, until the man called master unleashed his full strength. The blow landed squarely where her thighs met her pert little ass, and without meaning to, Cecilia yelped. "Agghh!" Gerry repeated the spank, catching her again in vocalized distress. Something between a scream and a whimper escaped her lips. Her bottom was lobster red now, but Gerry continued. "STOP! Stop! Please!" Cecilia caved and started to beg in earnest. "I thought you lost your voice," Gerry said calmly, as if spanking her over his knee took no more effort than knitting a jumper. She was squirming valiantly, but pinned her legs between his own. The smacks continued. "I brought you breakfast, and you didn't say 'thank you'. I was worried you'd shouted yourself mute!" The assault on her bottom continued. Cecilia knew what he wanted. It was simpler to give in. "Thank you for breakfast." She said hoarsely. Gerry wasn't wrong about her screaming and crying. Her voice was almost raspy from her vocal exertions. Gerry's hand was starting to sting. SMACK. SMACK! He still wasn't stopping. Cecilia had hoped he wouldn't notice that she left off 'master', but he had. The heat in her bum was painful, a stinging sensation that lingered long after the impact of the man's hand. She gave him another inch. "Thank you. Master." She said gasping through another series of spanks. She had thought he would stop. Instead it slowed, easing in intensity. Cecilia was wiggling now, squirming hard against his strong arm and legs that held her in place. Sweat misted over her as she began to fight. What else could he want?

A last spank landed. HARD, making Cecilia moan at the injustice of it all. Gerry ceased the spanking, believing he left an impression. Punishment was on his terms once she disobeyed. She had zero control in the situation if she refused to obey first and without question.

He lifted her up and plopped her on the bed. "Let's try this again," he sighed. "I've brought you breakfast."

"Thank you Master." Cecilia said as tonelessly as she dared. Her bottom was tender, and despite herself she tried to rub the stinging sensation away. Gerry took the opportunity to roughly insert his fingers into her untried sex. He was disappointed. She had barely started to get wet. There was some promise there, but she was not innately aroused by punishment: yet. That was the point of training, he knew, but he had rather hoped Cecilia was already wired for administered pain. This was something he could work with though. His invasive fingers had caught Cecilia off guard, but she soon regained enough clarity to start pushing his hand away as she backed herself into the corner of the bed. Gerry let it go. Once he fed her, he could start working on teaching her body everything it secretly wanted to know.

Instead of dealing with more exhibitions in defiance and having to punish her, Gerald handcuffed the blushing girl. "Maybe you'll earn the use of your hands at some point. Until then, I'll be feeing you. So I'd act grateful if I was you." The throbbing in her bottom forced Cecilia to quietly respond, "Yes Master".

Having fed her, and allowed her basic morning ablutions, Gerald locked Cecilia tautly back to the bedframe. She seemed to sense a sinister purpose and started to repeat her earlier refrain of "No. No. NO! no. no. No." Gerry wasn't interested in protests and the harness gag made an unwelcome appearance. Using his fingers, Gerald started at her neck, tracing his fingertips down her throat and over her collarbone. He traced between her breasts. She was shaking her head back and forth, over and over as if this protest was not already long lost. Her breathing was spiraling. It was enough to be disconcerting to Gerry. He checked her pussy again. Not even a little wet. This direct approach didn't seem to be working. "It's time for a different tactic," he thought.

He brought out some silk ties, and swapped her chains for the softer silk. Binding both wrists together and over her head, he forced the slightest of arches into her upper body. Her ankles were treated likewise. The silkiness over her sensitive ankles raised goosebumps, and encouraged Gerry. The spread of her legs was uncompromised, but there was no satisfying clink of chains to give air to Cecilia's silent protests. A black velvet blindfold went over her eyes, and Gerald made a final concession to sensuality with a big ball gag, replacing the intimidating harness.

Without her eyes, mouth, or the tinkling chain, to sound protests, Ceclia was completely at the strange man's mercy. She waited. Listening hard, she tried to figure out if he was still in the room. Had she heard him leave? She couldn't recall. How long had it been? What was that?

Delicate, but assured chords, from what was clearly a magnificent piano, met the resonance and tension in the notes that began the 3rd movement of Rachmaninoff's Cello Sonata. A bow pulled over a cello with fluidity and grace, perfectly matching the expertise of the pianist. Cecilia didn't know this music. And to be perfectly honest, Gerry didn't either. He did know that it was a recording of Mr. Ashton playing the piano with some uppity cellist, and that was good enough for him. It was a place to start training Cecilia's musical tastes as well as conditioning her body.

Cecilia jumped... As much as she could, so securely bound. Something incredibly soft was brushing her face. She leaned into it. It felt so good; different from the leather and rubber prying her mouth open. The softness had an expensive fragrance. Perfume or cologne, and in the darkness she was bound to, Cecilia floated on the jasmine and sandalwood, leaning into the soft touch. It traveled further. Down her neck, following the same trail the man's fingers had started, but it was almost welcome. The cello and piano continued a gentle but building sound. Cecilia latched onto the touch and sound, the only senses left to her. Her breathing steadied. Gerry saw Ceclia's nipples tighten into peaks as he plied her body with sensual softness. Better. This was significant improvement. The blindfold had proven a useful neutralizer. He played with her breasts, causing the slightest of shudders. Her nipples and breasts felt bruised after yesterday's chastisement. But the soothing softness eased the awareness of discomfort.

Gerry drew circles around her stomach, which seemed to tickle her more than anything else. Interesting. He catalogued her ticklishness for later exploration. Journeying further south caused Cecilia to hold her breath, but Gerry bypassed her sex, and moved to her legs, which were rock hard from straining, ready to fight. More shudders and squirms. Cecilia continued to breath though, so Gerry began to rub her feet. An audible groan came from behind the electric blue ball wedged between Cecilia's lips.

The massage on her feet was undoing her. The recording of the cello and piano continued to enchant, as the pinnacle of the piece was reached, and maintained with perfect intensity. The music was distracting and lovely. She couldn't help but relax. She loved the softness she was feeling, getting intimate with the sensations and sounds, wanting to know what they were. Suddenly it was his fingers again, peeling her lower lips apart. No. She tried to fight, but nothing was moving. If anything the silk bindings cinched tighter as she tried to close her legs or move her arms. A whole finger slipped inside her. His thumb rolled across... She clenched her thighs. He did it again. And Again. Cecilia was arching her back, unable to move his attention as the strange man called master began stimulating her.

Much better. Ceclia was getting wet, and though she did not approve, not every movement she made was argumentative. When Gerry found her clit, she reacted very differently. Gerry made to repeat the cycle again, starting with her cheeks and neck, moving down, and trying to somehow mimic the recording with the soft sensations. Cecilia had stopped fighting, seeming both confused and resigned. Gerry monitored the slightest shifts in her breathing, noticing shallower inhales and deeper exhales. As the cellist expertly plied the bow, Gerry imagined his touch creating resonance across Cecilia's body. He was definitely hard again. Moving the rabbit pelt up her legs, he fingered her sex again. His questing fingers were firmer, circling her clit more, until Cecilia finally moved her hips to meet his hand. She was wet now.

The movement had ended, but Gerry had set it to repeat, and Ashton's piano again tastefully met the cello. Gerry began a third tour of Cecilia's body, taking slower and slower movements. He spent longer motions around her tits.

Cecilia's muscles were fatiguing. She was getting nowhere with pulling at the bindings, but the softness... The softness was the first nice thing she felt since she had woken yesterday to this nightmare. The 'master's' movements were following a pattern, and Cecilia's blindness forced her to zero in on the music and the touch. They were good. In the midst of this bizarre new reality, she was able to hear something otherworldly, that she had never heard before. His fingers were prying at her sex again. He really was taking his time. 'Stay still' she told herself. But a long finger dipped inside her again, as tiny circles on her clit made colors blink before her darkened eyes. This was good too. It was too much though. It...

It wasn't quite time. Another pass along her body and Gerry was sure he would have her right where he wanted her. She was aroused in earnest now, and her limbs had given up the fight. Her breathing had attained a recognizable rhythm, very different from the one the piano was keeping, but the sensuality of the music was finally being internalized by Gerry's little slave to be. Her back was arched again, and he gambled by toying with her nipples, rolling them gently, and then sweeping the scrap of fur over the sensitive mounds. He wanted to check her pussy again, but stuck to the pattern, hoping that building the anticipation would increase the end result.

He was taking too long. Her sex was tingling all over. When Master pulled on her nipples and then soothed away the sharpness, Cecilia had felt butterflies. She arched her back, giving into the pleasurable feelings, unable to change what was happening, the mildest of frenzies building as the recorded music hit it's apex as the master's fingers started circling her clit again, and not stopping. It was relentless, and Cecilia's mind began to fight as her body utterly surrendered, pulling her hips toward the source of pleasure. Every sinew in her body tightened, and she felt sensitivity in her pussy that hurt. It wasn't stopping. She panicked, 'What's happening?!' And suddenly colors burst in front of her eyes as she fell over the brink, moaning as her first orgasm rolled over her. Without any effort on her part, her body tingled, muscles clenching and releasing of their own accord, activating sensation at the base of her sex to the ends of her toes all the way to the back of her neck. Eyelashes fluttering, tight muscles finally releasing as tension was replaced with pure pleasure, if only for just a moment.

Gerry smiled in triumph as she vocalized her pleasure, pleased as her body twitched and ever so gently melted, leaving her pliant and sated sexually for the first time in her life. He shut the music off. Grabbing a small towel, he ran it under some warm water and began to sponge the sweat off Cecilia's body. She didn't fight him

The warm towel wasn't as soft as the other touch, but it refreshed her somewhat. Cecilia registered the fact that she had just had her first orgasm forced out of her. The lessons from years of school telling her that sex was only for married couples, and that self-pleasure was akin to consorting with the devil had never prepared her for THIS. She felt like she had just had a massage, only more, better, from the inside out... and she still felt the easiness it had created in her body.

Gerry untied the silk bindings on Cecilia's arms, unbuckled the gag, and restored her sight. She blushed furiously, covering her naked breasts. She didn't feel safe looking at the man who called himself master. He had done something no one else in her life had ever done, and Cecilia was unwilling to feel any more vulnerable. Her hands were pulled away from her torso, and cuffed in front of her. The 'master' pushed a stack of books towards her, and left the room again. Cecilia was exhausted. She lay in a daze for some minutes, finally able to curl up into a tiny ball.