Heaven & Hell in Human Form Ch. 01

I was really about to do this. This didn't seem like me. This really didn't seem like me. This was... about as unlike me as anyone who knew me thought I could be. But I had to give it a try.

Specifically: I'm a twenty-something guy that had watched some (probably a bit much) BDSM porn, realised I liked it and decided now was the time to make it a little more real.

I'd done my homework, found someone - a pro-Domme - with her own establishment, and booked an appointment. And now here I was.

Goddamn it, the reality seemed more scary than the website had made it sound. The house was very theatrical; I don't know if I'd outright call it *Gothic* but it was the kind of thing I'd... uh... read about or seen online somewhere... and it seemed entirely the sort of thing that seemed somehow apt.

I mean, if you're going for 'a torture chamber' or 'a dungeon' you want to get in there and do the full Gothic Horror vibe, right? It was things like that which had made me pick this establishment, the complete experience if you will.

And I'd remembered the questionnaire she'd made me fill out. The special "first timer" edition, she referred to it as. It left me with the feeling of being understood; as someone doing this for the first time, I wanted to feel like not only someone understood me - rare enough in the real world - but that someone was willing to entertain my seemingly ridiculous notions. I'd dutifully filled out the form of things I thought I was interested in, what I thought I could handle, and a list of things that didn't work for me. I didn't even know what some of the words meant, and was savvy enough to realise searching for them might end poorly.

I will never forget her standing there in the doorway. Heaven and Hell in human form.

Imagine the scene for a moment. Gothic house. The kind of thing Halloween would be envious of. The door opens, and this... I could only hope she was human and not a devil incarnate. This woman standing there.

Before I could look at her, I noticed the trident-like candlesticks behind her giving her the illusion of a crown of fire. The polished marble floor.

The screams of tormented souls. I wasn't clear if they were in pleasure or in pain. Maybe both. Probably both. Hopefully both. It was... just a little unsettling for a first-timer.

And then I turned to her. Somehow I saw her face first, I had to look upwards to her for it. Her perfect pale skin, accentuated with dark red lipstick, deep midnight-blue eye-shadow surrounding oddly greenish eyes, long beautiful hair that was somewhere between brunette and red-head. The collection of colours wouldn't sound like it'd go but for her... it was somehow emblematic. I'd learn exactly how the chaos of colour would work out, soon enough.

I couldn't quite take it in because this was something off my questionnaire. Somehow she knew it would be *me* standing here, right here, right now. She knew I'd have the confidence to arrive, the sheer audacity to engage in enabling my darkest fantasies, for something as trite as *money*.

I think a few seconds passed where she allowed me to look at her, to visually drink in everything she had already done, seemingly just for my benefit without even a word being exchanged.

The outfit was too on-the-nose for it to be for anyone else, like she'd reached into my mind and taken it from one of my filthiest dreams. Maybe she had.

I'm not embarrassed about spelling it out here. Maybe I should be, but in the telling now, I'm not.

Sat atop the face, a leather cap - stylish but a little peaked, not the baseball kind, but the more elegant kind, without veering quite into leather biker territory. Then that auburn hair tied into the most elegant braidwork I'd ever seen - like it took hours to do - draping it elegantly down her back.

Then at the collar, the most smartly tied black tie/white shirt combination I'd ever seen, with the tie reaching down over her busom, and resting above the corset setting under her bust and reaching down to her waist, cinching it in just enough to accentuate her curves. The sleeves running down to a double-cuff with a very smart cuff-link at each wrist with some emblem I didn't recognise, almost like some miniature coat of arms, then from the wrists down, smart leather gloves.

Beyond that, a tight leather pencil-skirt, almost tight enough to look like some kind of hobble skirt, just above the knee, with black shiny leather boots running from below the knee to very steep stiletto heels.

I suspect even without the heels she had a couple of inches on me.

Then she smiled. A radiant winning smile. "Welcome! You're right on time." That voice. Oh my, that voice. Throbbing, sensual. The kind of voice that you'd want to record just to have jerk-off porn to listen to, and not even need to touch yourself for.

Between her appearance, her voice and her apparent capacity to read someone, it seemed only natural that this would be her line of work.

"Come inside. We have much to talk about." She stepped to the side, gesturing towards the hallway.

Just as I was about to step one leg over the threshold I heard another of those unsettling screams. I guess my hesitation must have been visible.

A winning smile. "Another *very* satisfied customer."

Those eyes flashed for just a moment. "If you'll just head down the hall, first on the right." But the voice was so pleasant, so I did.

Part of me somehow expected a very medieval torture chamber, shackles and manacles on the walls, lines of implements in various sizes of ever-larger intensity. I was somewhat relieved, then, to find it was none of these things but a light, airy room - light beige, I think - with a few modern chairs and a small table, on which was my questionnaire. The room had a large window overlooking a large garden, quite a way from any other buildings, and a small breeze coming in, and a second door at the far end of it.

"Please, take a seat."

"So, you are new to what it means to be a submissive. Are you afraid?"

"A little, but I'm also excited."

That smile again. "As you should be. Not everyone gets to experience their inner most feelings in this place."

I found myself breathing quite fast, feeling my heart pounding a little more than I wanted.

"Please, just relax. We're going to talk for a moment, then we'll see about you discovering your true self." That smile, with that voice, so soothing, relaxing and yet entrancing.

"The first rule is that this room is safe. Nothing will happen here in this space, it is a place of calm before the storm - and after. Here you may relax before I... have my way with you, and to unwind after I have done so. You may find the experience... intense."

"The second rule is that beyond that door," she nodded her perfect head ever so slightly in that direction, "you do not look at me, unless you have been given permission. This is the first step in understanding your place... in there, you are mine. I will do with you as I please. And it pleases me to know that you will want to gaze upon me, feeding your inner lust upon my form and outfit choices, and that you will have to fight your inner desires. Failure to do so will have consequences."

"The third rule is that beyond that door, you will obey me. This is not an instruction, it is not a request nor a command, it is simply how it is. You will obey me. You will, in time, *want* to obey me. You will take everything that happens as it happens. Out here you are perfectly safe. In there, you are *mine*."

That smile. "Do you understand?"

My mouth went dry. My cock yearned to free itself from my trousers and answer yes for me.

"I think so."

She smiled again, wider if possible. "Are you sure?"

Hindsight wishes I'd said no, but I smiled slightly and said yes.

She beamed, laughing a little. Harmonious and melodious, like a perfectly orchestrated peal of bells. "Wonderful, then we shall begin."

"Go through that door, close the door behind you, take all of your clothes off and put them in the locker by the door. You will see your initials on it, to remind you that they are yours." She paused, "Yes, and your shoes. You will not need them, the floor is smooth."

Goddamn. It's like she read my mind again.

"Go on. I won't be far behind. I just want you to ease yourself into the atmosphere."

This room was not what I expected. Again I expected a medieval dungeon, but it was a similarly decorated room to the previous one; neutral tones, light and airy with a window to the open world, but darker than the previous one, suggesting it was specially tinted "one-way" glass.

Sure enough I found a cute little locker by the door - and when she'd said about having my initials on it, I somehow wondered if there were multiple lockers, but no, only the one. Small, wooden, unpainted but varnished; blending in with the neutral tones.

There were a few chests of drawers set into the walls, and what looked like a central counter-top in the middle of the room.

It almost seemed too innocent to be any of what she mentioned on her website. Like a rural house, and this was the kitchen, only missing a sink and oven but otherwise the same kind of open plan rustic space.

But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

Clothing safely stored, I strode around the room. Not with purpose, mind, but more than a meek shuffle. At least, as stridently as someone not used to walking around naked would be walking around a room with a large window even if it *was* one-way glass. That is to say, not very. Even with a noticeable hard-on swinging with each step.

I was caught off guard with the polite tapping on the door. Without thinking about it, I said, "Come in..." and of course she was standing there.

"Well," she smiled, "you are comfortable, which is good. But you're looking at me, and for that you deserve some punishment. It is only your first session, so I will be gentle with you, but please note that future sessions, I will not be so gracious."

Suddenly my blood ran cold. Punishment, sure, that was a given, but there was something very steely and frigid in the ominous declaration. I gulped, involuntarily, as I forced my eyes downwards at the floor.

"Better." And somehow that tone made it all seem somehow OK again. That even though I had disappointed within the first two minutes, that all would somehow be forgiven.

"Hmm, I sense you... you want to look, you want to indulge your fantasies. I understand, but this is not out there. This is in here with me."

"This is your last opportunity to leave, by the way. You can go, now, collect your clothes and leave this place. Or you can stay in here with me, and understand every aspect of yourself."

I took a breath. "I want to stay here, mistress."

"Mistress? Very good. I can see I don't have to educate you on knowing your place after all."

I heard her move around the room, slight wafts of a perfume I hadn't smelled before, feeling the air drift in her wake, as she circled around the room, around me, with me keeping my gaze on the floor.

"Better." I heard the smile in her voice that time. And whatever note that was in her throbbing sensual tone, my cock heard it too.

"There is the small matter of your... indiscretion to be taken care of."

"Yes, mistress."

"Come over here."

I turned, eyes pointedly fixed on the floor, following the direction of where I'd heard her voice.

"Since I can't yet trust you to *entirely* know your place - and because you told me you wanted to experience being blindfolded - let's do exactly that."

I felt a bustle around me, and a blindfold appeared over my eyes and was tied firmly - even tightly - behind my head.

"Good boy. And I think you like it. *Excellent*." The swelling in my groin completely agreed.

"Give me your hand."

I reached out into the darkness, and a warm leather gloved hand took it. "This way."

I lost count of the steps after the third, but it didn't feel very many. "In front of you is a bench. I'd like you to kneel on it, please."

I leaned forward, feeling the height of it, raised a knee up and placed it gingerly on the surface, only to find it was met with a small cushion. I don't quite know when she slipped that in but I could have sworn it wasn't there moments before.

Lifting the weight of my other leg onto the bench I found another cushion for my other knee. Again, almost like it was made to order.

"Now, please lean forward, onto your hands and knees, please."

I felt a bit like I was falling forward before I felt the smooth surface meet my hands, and I settled into a position, keeping my back straight, smooth and proud.

"Excellent. And now we may begin."

"For the first order of business, your indiscretion. I will be kind today, only five lashes. You should remain still. I will, on this occasion, permit you to say whatever words occur to you, including words unbecoming of my submissive if you so desire. I will, as you are new, not even demand that you count the strokes."

"Thank you mistress." The words did not entirely come easily to my dry lips.

I heard her heels click on the floor - something that I hadn't heard up to this point - as she moved around me, and I felt her gaze on me, burning and hot.

"Hmm. I can't be sure that you will actually stay still."

Seemingly with a snap of her fingers, something like manacles appeared around my wrists and ankles, all at once. Faster than she could possibly do by herself.

I just tried to remain calm. It was on my list, of course - being made to cum while restrained is on most submissive wannabe lists, right? - but the reality seemed a little more cold than I had imagined.

"You'll take this for me, like a good boy." That sentence, it was a question, a dare, a threat, and simply a statement of fact all rolled into one, and it came with a tone that my cock was adamant it would stand up to.

I was... gently bracing for a cane or a paddle, administered on my very well exposed buttocks, with a gentle swing to get me started.

I heard a few experimental swishes through the air. They sounded oddly thick and heavy. And disturbingly multiple. It was amazing to me in that moment that my sense of hearing picked it up. I guess it really is true that blindfolding stimulates the other senses.

Then abruptly, as abruptly as they had begun, they stopped. Perhaps Mistress had had a change of heart.

"How do you feel about a gag?"

I'd put it as tentative on my list... I'd experimented with small ones that I could dislodge and it was unsatisfying but interesting... and as I opened my mouth to speak, I found a rather large one forced behind my teeth, before feeling buckles weave over my face, under my chin, around my head and buckled behind me. I started to splutter and hoot and shake my head but i felt a hand run through my hair, grip it tight, and pull my head back. I guess I tried to hoot through the gag that "what about a safe word?"

At least I guess the 'safe word' part was intelligible. "Oh, my body," she laughed, "you won't need a safe word. You're not in the antechamber now. You're mine, and I play very, very carefully with my things."

I swallowed.

"You may have entered here for your own gratification. You may even have entered here with the delusions that you are getting your fantasies entertained. Serve me well and you might even get that. One day."

She laughed again. "Right now you are mine, you will obey me." Despite the menace in those last four words, despite the threat, the statement, the simple fact left me cold.

I felt a gloved hand on my cock - no longer quite so hard.

"What's the matter? Not so pleased to see me now? No matter."

I felt the cushions my legs were resting on move apart - with a click the bar between my ankle restraints expanded, and with another click locked again. It was clear I wasn't going anywhere.

Then I felt a coldness pressing against my asshole, before dripping down my buttchecks, before it suddenly occurred to me this was lube being applied... and anal was on my list of 'do not want'. But I guess Mistress didn't care.

My hole clenched, not entirely involuntarily, and Mistress must have noticed. "Don't be a baby. I want you to have this. You want to have this because you want to please me, and while you don't want it right now, in your mind, deep down you really do want it."

My movement was pretty restricted, but I thrashed around a bit as I felt a hardness slide past the outer ring of my ass. Guttural noises in my throat, flexing and arching against the cold hard metal, as what felt like my ass was being split in two... my pitch and volume rising as it slid deeper and harder inside me, until I could feel the warm of Mistress's hips against my ass.

"You see, you do want this."

Unfortunately I didn't. Physically it left me feeling uncomfortable full, like my stomach had been invaded from below, with my ass feeling like it was being pulled apart from each side, and this was a violation of my sense of self.

"Right now, I assume you feel pretty violated." Angry, positive noise.

"Right now, I don't care. I want you to understand what it feels like to be fucked where you don't want to be fucked."

And with that she slid almost all the way out and painfully slowly all the way back in. "You see, your ass takes it just fine, and no, I haven't torn you in two."

"But we're not here to indulge your fantasies, we're here to indulge mine and teach you something about yourself along the way."

With that, I felt a gloved hand on each buttock, rough grabbing, before I felt that long hard cock slide up and down inside me... every down stroke leaving me empty, every up stroke leaving me violated.

My mind was screaming I didn't want this. But I was being betrayed by my body.

"You know, I think you like this. I think, deep down, you understand your place, which is to bend over and be fucked by your betters. Deep down, I think you understand that you *deserve this*."

She took a deep breath, pulled all the way out, then slammed herself all the way back in. "You know you deserve this. Deserve to be used by those around you. You don't deserve to enjoy it. You just deserve to take it."

Another all-the-way-out. Another all the way in, hard. "You know you deserve this, being used. Your cock knows it's true. Your heart knows it's true. You just don't think it yet. You'll learn."

Another all the way out. Another deep breath, and one even deeper thrust if that were possible. "This is your life now, fuck-toy. You came here to embrace your true self... well, here it is."

"Oh, and just in case you thought you'd gotten off from your punishment... you *are* enjoying this a little too much after all..."

Swish, smack. Despite her hips being against my ass, strap-on buried deep in me, somehow she'd found the room to swish *something* as several lines of pain criss-crossed my back all at once. Deep, abiding pain. The kind that boils and bubbles and feels like blood has been drawn with its pulsing.

I screamed into the gag with it, then the sound died in my throat, as I was left panting just trying to process everything.

"There we go. Let it out, you know you want to."

Swish, smack. Some of the lines criss-crossed the last set of lines, some reached new corners of my back and shoulders, the muscles all tensed up after the first one, and I screamed again.

She waited until I'd stopped screaming and was back to the panting/recovery state. "Very good. You've had two. I said five, and five it will be. Let this be a lesson not to cross me, because you'll find my mercy not forthcoming in future."

She gave me a few more seconds just as I'd forced a little tension out of my muscles, before... swish, smack. My cry out was quieter - I was running out of energy to cope with this, as well as being somewhat resigned to my fate, and I felt a gloved hand smearing something cold and damp over my back.