Dinner for Two

She looked up at him, her face almost blank except for a little fear. Her breathing was shallow, and she felt robbed suddenly of her strength. She had never known such absolute weakness as she now did laying upon his torture device; even if he had unclasped her she would have merely lain there, unable to rise. She accepted his kisses meekly, though had no ability to return them. Now she shivered as he caressed her soft, white body. She became a dove perched on the paw of a lion.

He made her look straight ahead, resting her chin on a stretch of wood as he locked another clasp around her neck. There was a rattling noise, and the wooden beam which ran under her body began to rise, lifting her torso. When it came to rest, she lay at a forty-five degree angle. Her arms were stretched out, fastened by the wrists to the end of the wooden beam, while her legs were in a kneeling position, with much of her weight on her knees. She was secured at all of her critical points: neck, wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles. A final metal clasp fell into place with a clang, tightening about her waist. She lay very still, and the lock clicked shut.

Master now fed her labial folds into special metal grooves; she was beginning to guess the nature of the torture that would soon come. Her nipples were guided into similar metal grooves, and secured in place with a long needle. She gasped a little.

Presently, a tear slid down her face which master noticed as he came around to gag her.

"Awwww." His voice was soft and gentle, but she knew his actions could not now be changed.

She sniffled at him, and he wiped the tear away. Briefly she wondered if he would relent, and abandon his plan, but the gag was forced inside her mouth and her fear was quenched. Then a metal plug was shoved inside her anus, dilating her. She felt foolish because she had forgotten to expect this, but the surprise only made it better. She leaked profusely from her vagina, her arousal having surpassed all words.

It occurred to her suddenly that if absolutely anyone else in the world were strapped to this machine and she were ordered to administer torture, even by her master, that she would not be able to do it. Yet he could, and was about to do so to her. This would have horrified her if she had even the slightest doubt that she was loved, but instead it filled her with awe.

As a final preparation, a pair of sticky rubber pads were pressed onto her buttocks. The trailing wires disclosed to her that she was about to be electrified, in addition to whatever other tortures were imminent.

She groaned softly into her gag, but the sound came out as more of a whine. In truth, she was surprisingly comfortable. Certainly the metal and wood contraption upon which she lay was irregular and hard, and her nipples were already in a good deal of pain. But her master was pleased with her, and the wooden and metal surfaces had now become warm.

It began abruptly, without the slightest warning. The metal grooves bit down on her labia tightly, gripping them with sharp metal teeth. She felt as though her pussy was caught in a bear-trap, and screamed. The pads on her buttocks became electrified as well, and jolts of electricity traveled-quite obviously intentionally-across her plugged anus. She winced and writhed, but motion only made the metal teeth grip her pussy and nipples harder.

She saw the shadow cast by the whip on the wall as it coiled through the air. It landed directly across her bare back, and she screamed into her gag once more. A fear entered her that she might buck with such sudden reflexive force that her pussy-lips would be torn away, caught in the metal clamp. This fear was entirely irrational due to the way she was restrained, but she cringed and clung desperately to the metal frame, blindly trusting that her master would relent soon.

Her master continued lashing her for a couple minutes, until her back and buttocks were striped with welts. He gave a meaningful pause between each blow, forcing her to experience each lash dreadful clarity. She sobbed bitterly, unable to contain herself in the slightest. The torture of her pussy and nipples coupled with the shocks to her buttocks would already have already brought her to tears twice over.

Then, finally, mercifully, the blows stopped and she felt her blood pounding in her ears. Her welts stung badly, but she focused her attention on her master. The electric shocks stopped abruptly and the adhesive pad was torn away-quite painfully, too. She blushed as her plug was removed and replaced with a curved funnel with which she was intimately familiar. One end penetrated her posterior, while the other would receive various liquids, some delivering pain, and others pleasure.

Master wasted no time administering the enema. She felt the first liquid sinking inside her, warm and prickly. She recognized it instantly, and knew that her insides would be racked with sharp, searing pain. She tried to prepare herself somehow, but it was no use. The pain mounted gradually, and she felt little tendrils of fire unfurling inside her intestines. She shifted at first, and writhed and bucked uselessly. The pain was constant and inhuman, utterly indifferent to her struggles. The machine's metal clasps held her fast, rendering all struggle-even symbolic-impossible. She desperately desired to tear the horn from her bottom and fling it across the room, but instead it continued to silently flooded her insides with strange chemicals. She grunted and groaned wretchedly into her gag, and the machine continued to render pain to her nipples and vagina.

Now she heard a pouring noise, and correctly deduced that a second liquid was being added to the horn. Then a third, and maybe a fourth. It was hard to tell. Somewhere, amidst her agony, she managed to clench her anus and expel the horn. It was quickly forced back inside her, and she received a sharp spank of rebuke.

The next liquid that entered her simulated raw and bitter cold, and she felt as though her innards had frozen into a single block of solid ice. The feeling was uncomfortable more so than painful, but in the extreme. Amidst this new torment, a hot stylus was jammed against her buttocks, and she realized that she was to be branded. Summoning all of her faculties, she clung desperately to the metal frame, holding still so her buttocks could be branded cleanly. She recognized his initials, having been branded twice before. So far, her brand had taken longer to heal-perhaps this would be the last?

Now her newly branded skin began to hurt in earnest. She hissed for breath, unable to focus her mind. How much longer would her torture persist? It seemed unending, but suddenly her master's voice brought her back to reality.

"Are you ready to cum?"

"Mmmfff, huurrghh?" She gasped. She was now fully capable of speech and could not have answered him intelligibly, gagged or not.

A vibrator was forced against her pussy, held in place by a metal clasp. She understood that she was going to be brought to orgasm while still fastened to the device, which she found to be extremely erotic. The final liquid he had introduced to the horn now began to settle inside her, seemingly replacing the first two. This filled her mind with a pleasant haze, which she frequently compared to honey. Beyond that, few words could describe what she now experienced.

The pain of the clamps in her nipples and pussy continued, of course, but they couldn't stop her from reaching orgasm. She came, violently, several times, leaking shamelessly over every surface beneath her. Her muscles tensed and spasmed and trembled, and her body shook as pleasure devoured her entire being. She made noises into her gag, impossible to describe, and drool poured from the corners of her mouth. She whined rhythmically, and ejected the horn from her bottom a second time. It was not replaced, and the mixture of liquids leaked from inside her onto the wooden and metal frame below her.

Master finally turned off the vibrator, and then the machine, releasing the metal clamps that he gripped and squeezed her genitals so brutally. She continued to quake involuntarily in her binds for several minutes, though she had regained enough sense to follow her master as he paced around the room. He removed the gag from her mouth, but she found she had nothing to say. Instead, she quietly laid her head to one side against the rough wood, a weak smile resting on her lips as she watched him.

He circled around her, caressing her skin and rubbing her welted body with cool salve. She felt again certain letters traced on her buttocks, and the burning pain that had enveloped her was quelled. She began to cry softly, and master caressed her shoulder. He allowed her to rest in her binds this way for some time, before eventually freeing her and taking her in his arms. She suddenly found her strength once more, and embraced him as tightly as she could.

***

She laid next to him, silently smiling at him as he undressed, soon to take his place beside her in bed. A single white sheet was draped over her, but did little to conceal the contours of her body. His weight rocked the bed as he flopped down, and she accepted a tender kiss from his lips.

She bit her lip and curled up to him tightly, every fiber of her being consumed by her need for him.

"I love you", she cooed, looking directly into his eyes.

"I love you too", he told her. Then he pulled her against him. "It's my turn to worship you", he uttered. She blinked at him. Following her experience in the dungeon that afternoon, she found herself incapable of anything except blind acceptance of his will.

"You are... beautiful beyond words, Anastasia. I mean that both physically and emotionally. Every time I look at you, I am overwhelmed by the curves of your body, your luscious thighs and soft, supple breasts. Your skin, everywhere, is soft and receptive to my touch. Your vagina is so delicate and tender, and you never try to hide your beauty from my gaze."

His gaze wandered from her face down to her hips, and back up again. She smiled at him painfully, her wounds still stinging even as she basked in his praise.

"Your face, your features, your little mannerisms and expressions, charm and dazzle me in ways I could never have imagined, had I not come to own you. You are beautiful to me in your submissiveness, your willful acceptance of my mastery over you. Your unfailing love, your eagerness to suffer for me, your absolute trust. I love you, Anastasia."

She could handle no more, and cried a little from pure joy. Rallying what little strength remained, she threw herself upon him, and kissed his chest as the sheets fell away from her body. "Oh master", she cried, resting her head on her shoulder. "This slave girl shall certainly have to watch herself, now that her master... has such an effective tool!"

Her voice sounded perverse even to her, but it brought a smile to his face. He silently caressed her, playing with her hair as it ran down her bare back.

"But not too careful, I hope", he teased. "You really looked good on that thing. Porcelain against metal and wood, that's how it oughta be."

She smiled. Then she asked, "If I were less pretty, you wouldn't torture me so often, would you?"

"No. It's the price of your beauty."

"I knew it!" she quipped, and kissed his shoulder. She pulled back just to smile at him, and see the smile on his face, but he flipped her over and pinned her on the bed. The sun had begun to set, and the golden rays which illuminated the room were beginning to grow red.

Would you believe that they made love one more time that day? No, you wouldn't. Not when he was spent, and with her being exhausted from her ordeal. But if they had, I can assure you that he would have been very very gentle and taken things slowly. They wouldn't have been sure they were even making love until she climaxed, at which point a little shrill cry of feminine pleasure would have been heard throughout the mansion.

But of course, you wouldn't believe any of that-would you?