Maiden

"Thif sfucks, fir," she managed to get out in between sets twenty and thirty. The first ten had been fine, she'd felt a few sharp strikes through a blanket of numbness that had covered her ass while the Hitachi was vibing her to the edge. She now regretting telling him his suggestion of thirty strokes would be fine.

"It...excuse my French, fucks or sucks, young miss?"

"Ffsfucks, sffsfucks."

"I'm sure it does. Ten more, ok?"

"Arrrgh!" She considered flashing the Vulcan salute. This was getting overwhelming, like the first trip to the gym after New Year's Day. She nodded and Frank resumed, finishing quickly.

Breathing hard, sweating and trembling, Marianne finally relaxed and took some deep breaths through her nose.

"Too much?"

"Uh-huh," Marianne nodded.

"What if I let you orgasm now?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded vigorously.

"Are you still up for the small princess plug? I'll make sure you are plenty lubed."

Marianne thought for a moment, taking some more breaths. She nodded again. Through all the anguish and torment, her professional side was really looking forward to seeing the results of all her hard work. The butt play would be a nice change too.

"Here, I'll give you a break from the gag." Frank undid the strap and slid it out of her mouth.

Moving her jaw and clenching her teeth around the vacancy felt strange. More than a couple of her sexual partners had joked that she was born to suck cock but her attachment to that gag was solid proof.

"Before I take care of you back there, anything I can do for you?"

"Do you have a cock gag that can go deeper?" Marianne went to rub her chin and mouth on the pad but found a puddle of slobber there. "And can you wipe off my mouth please, sir?"

Frank produced a clean but worn hand towel and cleaned up her mess. "I can put a dildo on an arm here, that way you can set the depth yourself. I don't want you to choke."

"That would be fabulous, sir," Marianne said, sighing. The man had thought of everything.

-

Spit roasted. Not entirely accurate because the head of the Hitachi wasn't penetrating her, but that's how she felt.

After slathering her butthole with some nice-smelling lube and working a finger then the small silver bulb insider her, Frank had repositioned the Hitachi against her hot and hungry lower lips.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but your vulva has spread and opened like the prettiest spring flower."

"Unnf," was all she could say. Marianne was starting to feel desperate; desperate to move, breathe, cum, relax, fuck, suck, whatever came her way, she wanted to do it. Frank took his time, and while she only ever got fleeting glimpses of his face, she knew he relished her desperation. He left the Hitatchi off and moved around back to the head of the table to sate her oral fixation.

"Are you going to let me cum this time, Mr. Frank?"

"I don't know, am I?"

"Don't make me beg, please, sir."

"You've already begged, several times and loudly."

"Oh, yeah," Marianne said, thinking back. So much had happened in such a short time and to be reminded of it made her more aroused than ever and violently embarrassed.

"Thing about being the Dom, my dear, is that I'm going to do what I want, when I want."

"Unless I stop you."

"True. Do you want me to stop?"

"No!" she practically shouted. "No, sir. Please. I'll beg, ok? Please, please, please let me cum."

"Soon. Hang tight, almost there."

Her soul groaned again.

Frank maneuvered a jointed metal arm into place near her face. If she pretended that Frank wasn't there for the moment, it was easy to imagine that the table was getting a complicated boner, or maybe it was some kind of horny scorpion, ready to sting.

"How big do you want the penis?"

"How big is yours, sir?"

"Nope, too personal. How about this one?" Frank held up a lifelike dildo, complete with balls, veins, and bulbous purple head. "It's soft on the outside like a real penis but has a firm core."

"Can I feel it, sir?"

He placed the dong in her restrained hands.

"Nice. Can I taste it?"

"Sure, open wide." Frank slid the dildo into Marianne's eager mouth. Her lips and tongue found it's texture and firmness perfect, and it even tasted sweet, a tang of artificial strawberry.

"How's that?"

"Perfect, sir."

He mounted the dong on the articulated metal arm and made a few adjustments. Marianne was raring to begin the real fun so as soon as it was close enough, she started sucking. Her only regret in the moment was that there was no face, no eyes to look up into while she took it down her throat.

Oh, well, maybe next time, Marianne thought.

"I want you to hold on for five minutes. We're at the end of the session and I want to get as many shots as possible while you are at your best, ok?"

"Uh-huh," she agreed then gagged and coughed out some slobber at the end of a vigorous stroke.

Whatever, just start the Hitachi already, she thought.

He placed an old-fashioned wind-up kitchen timer on a countertop that was on her eyeline and started the Hitachi.

-

After the main attraction was over, the last of the fireworks exploded and the crowd had gone home, Marianne sat breathless and shaky, leaned on the side of the massage table, wrapped in an enormous soft beach towel.

"After care or pics first," Frank asked.

"Um, you pick."

Frank set his camera on the table beside her, gently took her face in his hands and looked straight down into the depths of her soul. His gaze was so intense, she felt generations of her female ancestors shiver through time along with her.

"You did so well, Miss Marianne. I am so proud of you. You are strong and brave, bold, smart, and beautiful. I was an enormous honor to work with you today. I hope I have earned the right to ask you to work with me again sometime soon."

Marianne chuckled heartily then burst into tears. Frank wrapped his big arms around her, smothering Marianne against his soft torso. She returned the embrace with a fierce strength she didn't know she had.

"That's right, Miss Marianne. It's all ok now. It's over. Let it out," he cooed, holding her head firm against his chest while his other hand rubbed up and down her body. The sobbing convulsions that wracked her body were quickly calmed by Frank's skilled hands. Hours passed in the minutes that they stood there, hugging the hurt out before Marianne felt herself enough to speak again.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"What for?"

"Crying." She pulled her head away from a large wet spot that was spreading on the front of the man's t-shirt.

"No, sweetheart. It's what needs to happen. It feels right, same as everything else we did today, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want something for your bottom? I find sunburn gel works well for the pain. Not much I can do for the marks."

"I can't wait to see my ass now," Marianne snuffled. "The pics too."

"You are going to be so proud. You were, are, amazing."

Frank relaxed his grip, testing to see if Marianne was ready to let go. She held on for a moment more before stepping back to look up into his face.

"You are so pretty when you cry," Frank said, brushing a tear aside with his thumb.

"Can I look at some pics while you put the lotion on my butt?"

"Of course, Miss Marianne."

-

The table was still damp in spots from her exertions, so she folded the beach towel and laid it in front of her. Frank handed her his still camera and went to his lube shelf to find the soothing gel. Marianne rested her elbows on the table and bent over so Frank could take care of her while she scrolled the pictures.

"Oooh, that stings," she gasped as Frank started his ministrations. "Ahhh, that's better. Cold!"

"Yeah, this stuff is real good."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, both rapt and unwilling to break the spell.

"I think I love you," Marianne said, finally.

"I'm pretty sure that's the endorphins talking, but I appreciate the sentiment."

So many inappropriate thoughts and feelings followed that admission that Marianne started to blush and tear up again. Her face felt like a swampy mess.

"Oxytocin is a heck of a drug," he added.

Marianne laughed. Oh my god, fuck me already, she thought.

"Do you ever fuck," she asked instead, "I mean...do you ever have sex your models, you know, during a shoot?"

"No, never."

"No?"

"Never. I have my hand to relieve the pressure if my partner isn't around. After the models have left."

"Do you ever have models fuck each other?"

"Yes, but it's not in my wheelhouse, honestly."

"Good to know."

Frank finished up, went around the other side of the table, and leaned against it across from her, dropping down to her eye level.

"What do you think?"

"About the pictures? Mind blown, Mr. Frank."

-

Marianne went home and returned to her life, trying her best not to relive every moment of the session or pester Frank to get her the photos and video faster than he was able. She owed him that much.

She did have plenty of ideas for what she wanted to do next, though, and those fantasies were almost as vivid as real life.

She had thought about him, his dungeon, and being his plaything again often on the fifth day after the they played and was in the throes of another better-than-life fantasy when she finally got a text from him.

It read:

Miss Marianne,

Most lovely and fair maiden of my bondage dungeon,

Can't wait to work with you again soon,

-Frank

And was followed by a picture of a person that she didn't recognize at first.

It showed a woman of stunning beauty and vulnerability tied to a massage table, bound with her hands in front of her, legs spread behind her, pale skin marked with angry red stripes crossing her bottom, a pink princess plug at the bottom of the crevice between the mounds of her cheeks, normally coin-slot-flat pussy puffy and glistening, and her long sunrise red hair flowing away from her face in every direction.

What struck her was the bound woman's expression. Marianne's expression; her expression. She was looking up and to the side at something or someone, clearly a lover or torturer, perhaps Santa with a boxes of cash in one hand and Godiva chocolate in the other, or maybe a priest delivering last rites, with an expression that read as pure rapture.

Marianne struggled with what to text back, starting and erasing her response a dozen times. She finally responded:

Pure bliss, thank you Mr. Frank 💜