Kathryn Makes a Discovery Pt. 01

-- Early in their relationship Kathryn visits William's house for the first time, content is mild, the story continues to set the background up for and create the context for their later adventures.

-- In the timeline the events occur before Kathryn Goes Shopping.

-- Always happy to receive comments and suggestions.

*****

Kathryn luxuriates in and then finishes her shower, does her hair and applies her make-up before he is done with his training session, she heads down to his home gym to find him shirtless and sweating as he swings a kettlebell that looks almost impossibly heavy, after a minute or so he places it down with a soft thudding sound that confirms its solidity to her, breathing as heavily as he is sweating he reaches for a drink before he speaks, "Sorry, just five more minutes and I'll be done. You can stay if you want."

She enjoys watching his body but, silently aware of her own near non-existent fitness regime, she declines and leaves him to it, opting to start coffee instead. She finds an espresso machine and several of cafetieres in the kitchen and, opting for the latter puts the kettle on. As it heats she decides to dress and heads up the stairs to his bedroom, it's a large house for a man on his own and her curiosity getting the better of her, she turns the handle of the one closed door on the landing.

She can't been able to believe her eyes at what she finds within, she isn't a total innocent, and, well everyone has had fantasies, but she'd never quite imagined anything like the display the walls of this bedroom, if she'd still been clothed and they had not already made love tenderly, if she didn't feel so much as though she belonged when in his arms she'd have made her excuses and fled, even if her heart might have later regretted it, it was a moment her dreams would revisit time and again.

As she stands in the doorway she can see one display that is striking, ah, a poor choice of words if ever there were one for it contains over a dozen varied crops, canes and whips, another an array of feathers, brushes, strange spiked wheels that looked like spurs.

The room smells richly of expensive leather, as in the rest of the house the decor is, for the most part, conservative, but in place of his modern bed is a four-poster, and instead of the bookshelves, music library and LCD screens on the walls elsewhere she finds tall, elegant mirrors and a serious of quite outrageous display cabinets, or, to be precise, conservative dark wood display cabinets displaying outrageous contents. Despite her shock, and as there is no sign of William finishing his training and coming upstairs, she thinks she can still faintly hear the sounds of his exertion...

...Kathryn had always mocked the girls in horror movies who stepped into the unknown but now that the unknown presents itself she finds herself looking over her shoulder and with a quickening of her heart deciding that a few short steps while no-one was around can do no harm. She steps inside to see more closely. She moves toward the cabinet that is filled with a bizarre array of whips, sees a third, to her right with a variety of restraints, if these are the items on display she hesitates to think what must be in the tastefully matched cupboards and drawers.

First, she pauses at the display of restraints thick black leader and bright polished steel. There is no denying the visual artistry of this or the other displays, she allows her fingers the lightest of touches on several items, and is surprised by the weight of even the slim steel chains, the soft, yet unyielding nature of the leather cuffs, realises the tactile richness matches the sight and scent. One set of chains has strange clips at its ends which distinctly worry a part of Kathryn's imagination and she quickly moves on.

The array of whips though is even more daunting, there are long thin ones that remind her a little of those a coachman might use, she recognises the riding crops and canes, there had been a cane on the wall in her headmistress's office. She remembered being teased about it by Nancy Turner and living in fear of it for almost a year before she learnt that corporal punishment had been banned in schools years before. On an impulse, she lifts it from its peg, feels the fine harsh grain of the wood, tests its springiness, taps it against her hand. When she tries a practice swing she is surprised by the sound it makes through the air, she tries a harder tap and jumps as it makes a slapping sound, then she feels heat spreading through her palm from the point it has touched.

A shade of the naughty schoolgirl she hadn't dared be rises and she slides the sleeve of her robe up, pauses to gather her bravery and brings it down in a slap, "Fuck!" she exclaims almost dropping the cane in shock at bright pain that flashes through the soft skin on the inside of her forearm.

Then she almost leaps out of her skin as William's voice, murmurs, "If you're a pervgin, I'd start with something a little milder than a cane."

"But, why? Why would you use those things on a person?" Kathryn felt intimidated, she was wearing nothing but his borrowed bathrobe, she wished she had more on, wished she were not alone with him, that she hadn't read those books, hadn't stepped into this room, hadn't failed to hear him coming upstairs, she wished many wishes in a rush of quickening heartbeats.

"Which things? The fur mits? Feathers? Soft skin brushes?" He asks in response, with the devil staring deep into her and the boy dancing in his eyes. He reaches past her and she freezes at the motion, she sees him take a wide blusher brush from its place and feels a rush of relief, he holds it up for her inspection and then in a slow, deliberate motion places its soft bristles against the skin of her cheek and uses it to caress her skin, the effect is completely unlike using a brush to apply make-up on herself.

The stroking makes its way back down the V at the front of her robe and as it does his free hand passes over her breast, a jolt of pleasure, shoots through her and the hardness its tip confirms to her that he is aware of her arousal, not trusting herself to speak she tilts back her head and raises her mouth towards his.

She thinks, "Damn you, you know which things" but only says, nervously, "The other things, the whips and canes." She can't believe she's barely clothed in this man's home talking about these things, trying to stay calm while he seems on the verge of laughter and her own heart tries to escape her chest.

He looks into her eyes as if for permission and then slowly draws its softness from her hairline behind her ear down the length of her neck, his bass tone enquires, "Have you liked the things I've done with you?" Sparks of unexpected pleasure radiate from its touch as his voice sounds inside her.

"Yes, um, of course I have." She says, wishing that she were enjoying the things he was doing to her right now just a bit less.

"And have I done or forced you to do anything against your will?" Eyes dead serious as they seek her attention, he trails the brush down the robe's collar, she's glad the belt is done up, though she is becoming aware that her stiffening nipples don't agree with her.

"No, of course not, I wouldn't have..." Here she remembers him holding her on the edge of her orgasm, insisting that she open her eyes and watch herself before being allowed to cum, and she remembers the overwhelming surge of pleasure as she surrendered to his demand, how he would partially undress her and use her own clothing to keep her arms immobile while his gentle caresses worked their magic, "I trust you but..."

"But what?" He challenges her and raises an eyebrow, and she is amazed that he seems genuinely curious. The fine bristles, softer than any in her own make-up bag move begin to upwards, to her relief and disappointment.

"But what if I didn't want you to do something?"

"I imagine that either you'd ask me not to or that you would not appear to be enjoying yourself and that would make me stop." He carries on caressing her with soft, confident motions of the brush, each a delightful note as he plays her warm, glowing freshly bathed skin. "Why? Is there something you want me to not do to you?" Damn his seriousness and damn that laugh hiding behind it! "When people are playing physical games there are signals and words, whether it wrestling, martial arts, or, so to speak 'marital arts', for example, if you chose pineapple as a word meaning stop..." He loosens her robe, and trails the brush down the curve of her breast, "All you would have to do to make me stop would be to say 'pineapple'".

The strange, soft caress is tantalizing, one more thing unlike any other Kathryn's body has ever experienced, she opens her mouth, but does so in the hope of his kiss, not to say "Pineapple." And his lips find hers as the robe's belt falls and one hand reaches to the oh-so-sensitive skin of her waist, sending a delicious shiver through her. The brush continues to the underside of her breast and slowly spirals towards he rapidly stiffening and suddenly aching bud, as it arrives at and then circles its destination sparks of pleasure radiate throughout her body. Time slows for Kathryn and after a moment or an age when William pulls the brush away; she finds her body leaning forwards. He leans forward once more and first his warm breath and then his lips find her aching tip, drawing a gasp from her.

He pushes her robe wider open exposing her other breast and the once again begins stroking her skin softly with the delicious device, She finds herself standing in a passive reverie, warm, comfortable, for the first time in her life in such brazen exposure, lulled by his tender attentions despite the knowledge that she stood a bare few inches from an array of torture instruments.

He mirrors his earlier ministrations, collar bone, sternum, the curve of her breast, and she finds her skin even more sensitive, each nerve already alive with anticipation as the brush's gentle caress approaches. Her eyes close as it nears her nipple and she gasps as it lingers there, sighs as it eventually trails downwards, tickling its way to the crease between her thigh and hip and his lips replace it in touching her breast. He breaks away just as the brush grazes her outer labia and she moans at loss of its touch.

He moves closer and she feels the heat of his strength on her skin as he bends and gifts her mouth the briefest of kisses, then takes hold of the open sides of draws her forwards, eventually sitting himself on the bed in front of her, his face level with her still aching and stiff nipples, he kisses each as his hands ease her unresisting legs apart with their gentle strength and confident touch.

"Stay there," he commands, as the corner of his mouth turns upwards and igniting the gleam in his eye, he stands and moves past Kathryn, and her head turns to follow him, but he stops her, "No peeking." He says as he kisses the base of her neck.

Kathryn's curiosity is burning, and, knowing what is behind her it is partly with a nervous fear, her trust wars with mental images of whips and chains, she almost jumps a moment later when his arms encircle her and her heart leaps as his lips once more find the melting spot on her neck. Moving around her he resumes his place sitting before her and takes up her left hand in his own, he raises his right and there are three items in it, the brush, a strange spur like wheel on a handle and a strange black object shaped a little like a microphone. He places this down on the bed beside himself and then slowly trails the brush and the spur wheel along the length of her hand with the softest of touches the tiny needles and soft fibres igniting contrasting sparks of pleasure.

As he does he looks intently into her eyes, "Is this Okay?" He asks, back in his Mr Stern tone, and it is.

Kathryn takes a moment to respond, the mix of delicacy and intensity quite overwhelming her, "Yes, more than Okay." She confesses, her eyes lowering to watch him touch her with them.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, releasing her hand and transferring the brush to his left. He takes her silence for assent and reaches forward with the two devices.

"Will it hurt?" Kathryn murmurs a little afraid despite her soaring arousal.

"No, it shouldn't, and remember, 'pineapple'." And as he says the word he allows both to make the lightest of contact with her skin just below each collar bone. The contrasting sensations wash through her body and escalate further as she recognises the pattern of movement as those with which he had caressed her with the brush alone earlier, this time the spiked wheel mirrors the motion of the brush delivering delicious tingles with the occasions sudden peak of something more intense.

Despite her trust, and the pleasures flowing like hot rivers throughout her body, the sharp spikes approaching her now painfully erect nipple cause a thrill of fear in Kathryn's heart, it was all very well for William to tell her this wouldn't hurt but... Yet at the same time, she found her breath quickening not merely in fear and her body yearning towards this strange touch. The tingles turn to tiny lightning strikes as the wheel nears her tender bud each strike grounding deep inside her, she catches her breath as they prick ever so gently around her areole, and stay circling there, the tip of her nipple achingly waiting, Kathryn half fearfully waiting.

The thunder that has been following the sparks of light arrives in a rumbling wave as the tiny needles finally make contact with their destination and the last flashes of lightning ground blindingly in her clitoris, Kathryn's knees buck involuntarily and she cries out.

And he stops, panting, afloat in a near orgasmic state her eyes find Williams, he fixes her gaze with his own and places the miraculous items down by his side, his hands now caress her, breasts, stomach, thighs, inner thighs and then finally her labia, one finger traces a gentle line from her anus to the top of her slit brushing over the outside of her hood despite her hips best efforts to make this contact more intense. "Are you ready?" He asks, and her only response is to widen her stance and press her mons towards him.

He lifts the black object and presses what looks like its handle, after a few seconds it buzzes into life, and Kathyrn realises, outwardly voiceless her internal voice begins its own commentary as she hovers in an almost out of body state "Oh my God, it's a vibrator, and I'm so close!" He presses its round head against her opening and twists it, sending a shaking through her, "So smooth, I'm so wet".

Satisfied that the toy has collected sufficient of Kathryn's own, lubrication, William runs the wand from her anus to the top of her slit and back in slow motions he barely presses, but Kathryn finds herself rocking against the bulbous head. His left hand and his lips claim her breasts and her body reverberates in unison like a drum skin stretched between the three points of contact, he stops moving the vibrator while it is directly on top of her clitoris and allows her to press herself against it for a moment and then another until she feels the tide inside her is about to break then returns to stroking the round smoothness over the length of her sensitive vulva as she wails in frustration, it moves down, down to her perineum, then her anus he doesn't push but her muscles clench and spasm against even this gentle contact. He lets her ride it briefly before moving the wand back upwards, and as it resumes its travels Kathryn lets out a guttural cry.

She whimpers, places her hands on his shoulders and leans down, her muscles twitching now, barely in control, she's never cum standing up unsupported before, ten days ago she had never even cum while in the same room as anyone else. Now she is trying to ride this toy as though her life depends upon it.

Once again he pauses over her clitoris, the devices buzzing intensifies as he does, and Kathryn lets out a sob, it moves down, pauses at her entrance and again over her anus she is unable to control the muscle there and it pulses against the soft pressure, then up once more, yet again it comes to a rest over her clitoris eliciting a moan from her lips, the vibrations become more insistent and he presses a little more firmly, his teeth and fingertips tighten slightly on her nipples and she spasms, leaning heavily on him groaning out loud, but rather than her release the sound is followed by a keening wail as he moves tortuously down once more.

William slips the head of the wand into the crook of his hand and cupping it against the base of her pubic bone, the tips if his middle and index fingers enter her, his ring finger's pad rests flat over her rose and that of his thumb presses into her clitoris. Kathryn can feel vibrations through his hand as well as through the wand's direct contact, her grip clenches fiercely at his shoulders, he presses the fingers inside her hard against the inside of her pubic bone and she stops breathing.

He begins slowly rotating his hand, caressing each point of contact strongly and he power of his arm takes some of her weight through the head of the vibrator and Kathryn lets out a long animal cry, when her lungs are empty and burning she draw in another ragged breath and cries out again, her knees buckle against his her arms braces she feels her breasts and pelvis take their share of her weight and it continues.

William holds her, his hands unrelenting in its subtle motion until her cries turn back to sobs and she is at the point of collapse and only then does he remove his touch and the wand away from her, lift her crumbling form and lay her on the bed, kiss her unresisting mouth and let her rest.

In the afterglow Kathryn nestles against him, meek and content, as he lazily caresses her softness through her open robe, Kathryn blushes, and her blush deepens as his touch grazes the aureole of her breast, "You called me a pervgin!" She chuckles and it feels deliciously warm inside as she does, "What even is a pervgin?"

William laughs the rich laugh that she can hear enough, "Well you were, and it's someone who hasn't tried anything a bit more imaginative sexually." His face becomes more serious and he looks into, or is it through her eyes, "So do you like what this is all for?"

Her colour rose even higher and she buried her head against him, resists when he lifts her chin, but not when he kisses her mouth, "It was unexpected," Her eyes fight away from his, look down, "Incredible!" Her hand presses against his muscular chest, "What do you get out of all this?"

"All what?" He seems genuinely puzzled.

"The toys, the way you touch, I've never felt anything like it."

"What do you mean? Doesn't everyone like to please their partners?"

"They do... at least... I do... But..." Kathryn pauses, "All this is so much more, I've never had an orgasm with anyone before, but you make me cum so intensely, easily..." She blushes before continuing, "Easier than I can myself."

His eyes gleam boysishly, "I must have a knack." He replies, and that devil's smile of his twists the corner of his mouth upwards, "And I like it when my partner is completely satisfied, he leans forward to kiss her."

She allows him to do so, her mouth opening to him as her body does, "The, other things, the chains, whips..."

"They can make the experience, and the pleasure, more intense too, if you like them." The gentleness of his voice at odds in her head with the topic, she can't quite believe that in the aftermath of her overpowering orgasm she's lying in his arms discussing torture.

"I don't think I'd like to be hit with those things." She says, looking at the display of cruel instruments, her heart beating wildly at the thought of her body being beaten, "Especially if I couldn't move!"