In a Wooden Box...

When he knelt down behind and beside her, her trepidation increased even more. In all the time she had been in his presence, he had never been so close. Everything had been done at a distance (except that initial slap and hair pulling, but that didn't count because it was so quick). But now, he was close enough that she could feel his presence. He laid he hand upon her and stroked her smooth skin. His hand was warm and strong, but gentle. He caressed her body, from her neck down her back, over her rounded ass -- which was still warm, but cooling off -- down to her feet, and to each individual toe. Odd as it was, she felt compassion in his touch and her heart slowed a bit. His touch was calming, and despite the ordeal he had put her through, she now felt cared for -- as crazy as that sounded. She knew he was in control.

He ran his hand up her back, the chills continuing to follow, and gently intertwined his fingers in her hair. Pulling back slowly, exposing her creamy neck, he undid the knot with a few short hand movements and let her gag fall to the ground. As he leaned in close, she could feel his warm breath in her ear and felt herself melting inside. She trembled as he whispered in her ear, "You have done well. You have pleased me. You are mine." She was conflicted inside. I am my own woman! No one owns me! I belong to no one and don't need to please anyone but myself! and yet, she also knew she desperately wanted to please this man, she craved his attention and his approval. She wanted to please him. She lived to please him. It was then she chose to submit herself to his pleasure.

"Now, you will receive your reward."

When he released her hair, she placed her head back on the pillow and waited, anxious and curious as to what her reward would be. He sat upright and put his hand in the small of her back. With his other hand, he stroked the tender pink skin of her ass and lightly spanked it -- just enough to cause a jiggle, and enough to elicit a small moan from her now unmuffled mouth. He traced his finger around her rear and smoothly let his hand slide down between her legs. His fingers traced the outer lips of her pussy and gently stroked them, caressing them with a gentleness she had never experienced. She moaned a little with each stroke and her breath caught in her lungs when she felt his finger slip easily past the welcoming folds into her. She felt his fingers inside her, gently stroking back and forth into her willing, wet slit.

He slid his fingers out of her and put them in his mouth, tasting her primal fluids, and sucking them clean. Again he did them deep into her snatch and pumped them into her, stretching her open before pulling them out again. He reached around her and placed his fingers, soaking in her juices against her lips. She understood what he wanted and willingly opened her mouth to receive them. When he slid his fingers into her mouth, she sucked and licked them, curious and intrigued by the taste of her sex on his fingers. As he tried to pull them out, she sucked hard, eager to clean them to his satisfaction and to get every bit of herself that she could. With a small pop his fingers were released from her suction and she laid her head back on the pillow -- thoroughly enjoying the rewards of being a good girl.

Soon, his fingers were again buried deep inside her, filling her body. Her moans were growing louder and her breaths were getting shorter. She was well beyond the point of excited and was barreling fast towards the point of no return. The iron rod had fired her up and left her hanging at the precipice. The deep penetration she was now receiving was building up the other side of her lust and soon, those desires would cross paths and she would be unable to stop the cascade of passion that burned inside. She knew that, and resisted the urge to just give in -- she didn't have permission.

As he finger-fucked her, he also began to slap her ass, bringing the redness back to her pale white cheeks. The sensation, although very familiar, was completely different in her present state of arousal and only hastened her impending arrival at the peak. His fingers worked faster in her and he felt her walls begin to clench tight to them as she struggled to maintain control. He touched her clit with his thumb and rolled it around, applying enough pressure to ignite the nerves, but not too much to be painful -- this time. He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, "Now. Cum now. You are mine." And that was more than enough to send her over the edge.

While he thrusted his finger deep inside her and rubbed her clit, he felt her orgasm from the inside. Her vaginal walls collapsed around his fingers, pulsing rapidly, her fluids fully coated and lubricated his fingers as she came. Her body wracked in spasm after spasm as she crested a wave of pleasure, slipped down the back side and crested another wave shortly after. She cried out, "Yes, Sir! Yes, Master! Oh God, yes, yes, Master, more! Fuck! More! I need more! I am yours!" She lost track of the number of waves that passed and gave in to the ocean that flowed through her. She closed her eyes and rode the climax that never seemed to stop. As the coaster slowed, and her body came back under her control, she was finally able to sigh, "Thank you, Master. I am yours."

Barely conscious, exhausted from the afternoon and evening of pain and pleasure, fear and passion, she noticed, but hardly registered when he released her arms from their binds, picked her up and then set her down on a soft, round cushion -- like a dog bed. He put her pillow under her head and pulled her green wool blanket back over her still naked body.

"You can rest now, my pet. There will be more to learn in the morning."

And with that, she allowed herself to finally succumb to the intense pressure to sleep that she had been fighting all evening. The last she heard was the soft sound of his breathing as he lay beside her and the last she felt were his fingers running softly through her hair. She was content and determined to serve her Master, to please him, until she could no longer do so - until he was done with her. And she wanted that time to be far, far in the future -- if ever.

As he stroked her hair and listened to her breathes deeper as she drifted into sleep, he look at her, took in her beauty, caressed her marks, and looked at his prize. He had ordered her, and she came as ordered. She was perfect. He didn't know where he came from or how she came to be in the situation she was in. It didn't matter. She belonged to him now. She was his responsibility. His to care for, his to teach, and his to discipline.