POW Pt. 02

Time for the next lesson. He moved to her side, running his hands along the length of her torso and down her thighs. He played with the nipple chain for a moment then put it down. He retrieved his crop from the side table and drew designs on Melanie's vulnerable torso with its tip. He laid it down between her breasts momentarily so that he could grasp each breast firmly in one hand and squeeze. He watched with satisfaction as the nipples, pinched by the clips of the chain, rose even higher as their fleshy bases were squeezed up. Then he let them drop and picked the crop up again. Then he took the crop and swatted her across the tops of her breasts.

Melanie twitched with surprise. Her bottom was designed to absorb impacts of various sorts, her tender breasts were not. The crop smarted long after it was no longer touching her, but there was no relief as,,Master Carl swatted them with a regular cadence. She suddenly felt very vulnerable. The Maulana had beaten her many ways, but he'd always left her breasts alone, and those of the other girls. Only suckling, adoring, and occasionally biting was afforded to those prized mounds. She remembered receiving welts on her bottom that took weeks to heal and possibly left permanent scars. She didn't want permanent scars on her breasts. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this after all. She contemplated using the safe word. She looked up at Master Carl anxiously.

Major Tiegen saw the look of concern cross Melanie's face. He was about to Punish her for looking up at him when he saw that she was teetering on the brink of fear and held back. He returned her gaze evenly; this was the moment of truth. Did she trust he would do her no permanent harm? He saw she was unsure. And yet, this is what he Wished to do, and if he was unable to indulge his every whim with absolute obedience he didn't want any part of this at all. Within reason, of course. If he had to have in the back of his mind all the time the questionif I do this, will she run away?none of it would be any fun. And in the end, that's all this was about--pleasure. It was a moment of trust for him, too. Could he trust her to be the Servant he desired? He was very impressed so far--her oral skills were exceptional, and she was quite attractive and had a great body for a sub. He thought to himselflet's be honest, submissives tend not to come from the top tier of most desirable females; a lot were overweight. Melanie was hot by any standard, certainly top shelf for a sub. But if she wasn't truly submissive, she could be a supermodel and it still wouldn't be worth the trouble.Their eyes met evenly for several long moments as the internal dialogs played out. Master Carl continued to use the crop across her breasts at the same even pace.

I don't want to have my next lover ask me why I have all these stripes on my tits, she thought. But before she spoke, another thought crossed her mind.What other lover? Who's to say I'll ever HAVE another lover. I had that with Matt, and I walked away from it. I came here because I wasn't satisfied with sex the way regular people do it--the way Matt and I used to do it. What would make that any different with someone else? Nothing. If I ever have a relationship again, it will probably be exactly like this one. It may even BE this one. In which case, if it pleasures him to stripe my breasts, let him stripe my breasts. What do I use them for anyway, other than to please a man? Melanie lowered her gaze again, resuming her countenance of meek subservience. She had to endure, and hoped to be rewarded for her service in time.

Melanie did not see it, but Master Carl smiled. When she lowered her eyes and resumed her role, he knew she had decided to trust him, to Permit him to do as he pleased. And if she trusted him, he could rely on her. He paused for a moment, releasing the alligator clips holding the chain onto her nipples. He tossed the chain aside, only so he could stroke the underside of her breasts. She Permitted it.

Her show of trust made him ragingly horny. He put the crop down between her breasts again, walked around the one leg of the table so that he was standing over her bare, spread-eagled crotch. He pressed his penis between her thighs, and thrust savagely.

Melanie closed her eyes with pleasure. Master Carl was taking her with intense lust, and it felt wonderful. Feeling helpless somehow made it feel all the better as she felt his penis hammering into the depths of her belly. His eager thrusting shook even the solid table, making her breasts shake. Wow... what a feeling. Every time her sore breasts were jarred by his thrust, a jolt of pain shot up her spine. But racing up right behind came a jolt of pleasure from her pussy. She swallowed hard, unable to do anything but hold on while her brain struggled to make sense of the bang-bang flood of sensations.

Master Carl wore a look of knowing satisfaction. Not just because he was fucking the hell out of Melanie's pussy, but because he saw the look on her face. The crop to the breasts—he had learned from previous slaves that it was pain well worth it. He knew that making those breasts jiggle while they were still raw and sensitive was the key. Melanie made him work a little harder to accomplish this because she was in fighting shape and her breasts didn't have much extra flab to shake. That was OK, because her fit thighs and young pussy were up to the task. In fact, the fucking was so good, he was in danger of popping off again. And he didn't want to, because he still wanted to explore... the third hole...

Anuses had become almost an obsession for Master Carl--to his frustration, one that was rarely satisfied. His last slave, for instance—she hated to get it up the ass. Sometime she would invoke the safe word to avoid it; other times she would grudgingly consent but her tense body and unforgiving sphincter destroyed the experience. Some Masters would have gotten off on her consent-without-being-willing, but he wasn't one of them. It was a big reason why it was obvious to both of them that they should go their separate ways. Carl longed for a Servant that would permit him to penetrate her anus as he wished, could truly Consent to his anal intrusions. He had heard her stories at the debriefing; he knew she had been anally penetrated many, many times. But that wasn't the same thing as being Willing. He hesitated; she had all the makings of a great Servant. Better than the last few, surely. He could have made himself happy many times over using just her mouth and pussy, like he'd had to with his prior slaves. They'd just gone through a trust turning point; if he pushed the issue, he might scare her off after all. And he was so close to orgasm. Perhaps I should just go with this for now.I could get off in thirty seconds if I went for it. Hopefully we'll do this again, maybe I can bring up the anal thing later...But he wanted it so badly... he felt like he wasn't doing himself justice without at least trying. It was a delicate position... and one that required action swiftly, before the point became moot inside the soothing pleasures between her thighs.

"I wish to Enjoy you from the rear," he announced.

Melanie was brought back to earth from the roller coaster ride by his words. Her pleasure was so intense, but she was still unable to achieve orgasm. It seemed perhaps that the very pain that made her pleasure so intense inhibited it—perhaps it came too swiftly upon the heels of the pleasure to make it over that peak. She sensed he would soon Finish, and she feared that she might not achieve her Objective after all. And the fearing, of course, became self-fulfilling. His words interrupted her mental dialog. She understood what he asked; what surprised her was that he bothered to ask. Why hadn't he simply Required it? She realized that perhaps even among Servants, obedience might not always be Total. But she certainly had no problem with his request. In fact, she completely expected it; it felt a bit strange to be tied down and fucked in thepussy. In Akbar, nine times out of ten it would have been her bottom being penetrated straightaway, without even bothering with her fertility canal. "My Master may please himself any way He wishes," Melanie responded with pride. She didn't know what others were like, but she was quite confident she could provide her Master with access to any part he wished. After all, she had fasted since breakfast just to be sure all of her orifices were fully available.

For Master Carl, there could have been no sweeter words. He quickly freed Melanie from the star-shaped table. He was almost shaking with anticipation as he gestured towards the floor. Melanie found herself in a familiar position: on all fours on the floor, arching her back to lift her rump, keeping her knees apart to provide better access. The Major's dick was so dripping with her juice he probably wouldn't have needed to lube up before penetrating the dry hinter orifice, but did just to be safe. He didn't want anything to mess this up. He knelt behind her, pointing his throbbing bone at the tight sphincter. Melanie's ass presented itself to him, inviting him to explore the cave where sun never shone. He pushed up against the muscle, putting pressure against it but not pressing too hard. He felt resistance soften; his hand resting on her back felt her relaxing. She was willing herself to be receptive. Oh man... he pressed again, and felt the opening begin to give. Once more he pressed, and all at once, he was in. He rubbed his penis against the tight ring of muscle as he thrust it in and out of Melanie's butt. It was exquisite, bringing back memories of a seminal experience with an amazing prostitute in...stop thinking about it. That information is classified. He generally found it better to keep classified secrets by not thinking about them, even to himself. But it satisfied him greatly to feel Melanie's her willing posterior provide such pleasure.

Wanting to reward Melanie for her Obedience, Master Carl reached blindly around the table next to them. He was looking for the special tool, used as a reward and occasionally a torment. He patted around until he found it. It was a simple box with two adjustable straps on either side. Ingeniously simple. Melanie had no idea what he was doing when she felt him stop thrusting (although remaining embedded between her cheeks) and felt something fiddling with the tops of her thighs. She felt something touching her clitoris, having no idea what it was, but not daring to satisfy her curiosity to look. All at once Master Carl switched it on, and it began to vibrate violently. Even with the penis in her ass, Melanie squirmed as her clitoris responded to the vibration directly upon it—but the source of the vibration moved with her, inescapable. She was suddenly transported back to her training in Akbar, the first time the Maulana had taken her from behind, and how powerless she had felt in spite of the pain because of the pleasure she derived at the same time. Only now, she was willingly in this position. She felt the penis intruding relentlessly into her anus, but it was just one of a symphony of sensations, some pleasant and some painful. The strings of pleasure emanating from her clit, however, increasingly drowned out the others, taking over the melody by itself. She relaxed, and allowed the sensations to take her with them, like a giant wave building up strength before crashing upon the shore. This, finally, was the intensity she had been unable to re-create with Matt, or anything else really since coming back stateside. She lost awareness of everything but the pleasure. Melanie could feel it right around the corner--an elusive, teeth-rattling, mind-blowing orgasm.

Master Carl's attention was focused on fucking Melanie's sweet ass. He was confident the vibe would get her off soon enough; he was free to take care of himself. He put his hands on her haunches and fucked her ass, closing his own eyes as he focused on the sensations of pleasure that came from squeezing his penis through that strong, exquisitely tight muscle. He fucked, and felt, and fucked and felt. All at once something felt strange, and the muscle gripped him tighter. Opening his eyes, he saw that the vibrator had done its job and Melanie was shuddering with a thunderous orgasm. He smiled to himself.

As soon as it passed, he felt Melanie concentrate on relaxing yet again, and he was able to resume fucking her butt. Wow... she was almost too good to be true. Her sphincter had clenched in orgasm, and now she was willing it to soften, just so it could receive his penis again. Unbelievable! He closed his eyes, and felt her anus receive his thrusts yet again. For the third time he felt his balls start to boil, but he was now satisfied to allow them to proceed to climax at last. He thrust steadily, allowing the excitement to build and build. As it built, he unconsciously thrust harder and faster, following the commands of his penis. He thrust, thrust, thrust... and finally he reached the point of no return. There was that split second of warning, and then with intense pleasure his penis began to spurt semen into the dark recesses of Melanie's ass.

-------------

Master Carl felt peace inside long after his orgasm subsided. A long, winding, lonely and unspoken quest to attain again a pleasure he had known long ago had finally come to fruition. With a sigh of mild regret he removed his shrinking member from her buttocks. He released her arms and legs and disappeared out the door, going up upstairs to fetch the things he had purchased for their next adventure. Things he wasn't sure he was going to need, but now he did.

Melanie stood there, perplexed that he simply left like that. She thought that she had done a good job of pleasing him. She had kind of hoped for some feedback, now she stood there wondering if she had disappointed him. Just then he was back, carrying her raincoat... and a department store shopping bag, the kind that looks like a gift bag only with the store's name on the side. He strode up to her and laid them at her feet. "You might want some kind of cover-up dress next time," he commented in his "normal person" voice. At the same time, he pulled a sealed, invitation-style envelope out of the shopping bag. As he handed it to her, she could see the Master Carl insignia on the front. She took the card, and then all at once, he leaned forward and kissed her—hard. His mouth open, his tongue found hers and intertwined with it. Her heart exploded, because she could feel right away this kiss wasn't part of the scenario. She'd been required to kiss a Master before, and in that context it always felt like another means of establishing dominance. This wasn't like that. It felt like... well, it felt a lot kisses she'd shared with Matt after making love, back when when their relationship was still new and love still in flower. Caught by surprise, it literally took her breath away. Then just as abruptly it ended, he turned heel and strode for the door. Again Melanie was alone with her thoughts.

She opened the envelope. Inside was a plain white card, also with the Master Carl logo. She opened it, and quickly clutched to catch the cascade of thin papers that tumbled out. She caught one, which was enough for they turned out to be stapled together. She glanced at them... gift receipts. Huh? She tucked them under the card and read the inside. This wasn't printed, it was hand-written in a surprisingly neat and orderly script.

Tuesday after work. Go to the subway station bathroom next to the donut shop and change into these clothes, then catch the train north three stops. Go to the Chop House. Ask the maitre'd for the President's table. He'll either say there is no such thing or that it's unavailable. Tell him it's needed for a Papal Visit. He'll show you to a private room on the second floor. I'll be waiting. Be prepared to serve.

MC

PS The receipts are in case anything doesn't fit. As your Master, I will provide any items that I require you to have, use, or wear. Do not dispose of them without permission, as I may require them to be used again in the future.

She bent her knees to squat down and see what was in the bag. There was tissue paper covering the contents, like it was a birthday present. It seemed somehow incongruous under the circumstances. She pushed it aside and was surprised that the bag was almost full to overflowing. The first thing she found was a purple business suit made of fine fabric and with an expensive designer label. It had a long jacket and a very short skirt. She couldn't say why, but it didn't surprise her to find it was exactly her size. She lay the suit on her lap and pulled out the blouse. It was shimmery white, with tiny buttons and deep, plunging neckline. She raised her eyebrows; that would attract attention. If this was New York or LA she might get away with wearing something like that on the job, especially if you didn't care if people thought you were screwing the boss on the side. In conservative DC... She put the blouse aside, and peered into the bottom of the bag to find three boxes. She opened the first--it contained a pair of expensive black hose and a garter belt to keep them up. The second contained pumps that perfectly matched the suit. And the last... a bottle of French bath oil. Perfect for soaking her sore bottom. Her Master, it seemed, was both thoughtful and thorough.

She imagined herself wearing the suit as she replaced the items in the bag. She imagined a dark, semicircular booth in a small room. She imagined her Master slipping his fingers into the plunging neck of her blouse, touching her breasts. There was no bra in the bag; she assumed this mean she was expected to not wear one. Nor was there underwear; perhaps he would slip his fingers between her thighs, making her squirm even as the waiter took their order. Or, maybe he would require her to slip under the table and caress his penis with her tongue while he dined. Maybe he would require her to sit on his lap, that he might enjoy her before desert. Or maybe he wouldn't do any of that--maybe he would require her to wait, and not provide her with any satisfaction, until he could take her to some other location later so that he could discipline her. Maybe he would make her sit with a vibrator between her legs and not permit her to touch herself to bring about relieving release. The possibilities were almost endless--and she was getting herself wet yet again just thinking about them.

She quickly repacked the bag and put on her raincoat. She hustled up the stairs and out of the old warehouse, rushing for the train. The train was nearly empty, but she stood the whole way anyway, not wanting to sit on her sore buttocks. When she detrained and started heading up the stairs, she heard her telephone chime. She had a text message from an unrecognized number. She opened it up.

Melanie-

I had a great time tonight, and I hope we can do it again soon. But as I was leaving I thought... well, we both take lunch at about the same time, and I'm getting sick of Pentagon food. Would you like to have lunch once in a while? Casually, I mean, not like tonight. I guess I'd kind of like to learn more about you, and, well, these rendezvous are not exactly conducive to conversations, you know? If it wouldn't feel too weird, you know. Anyway, give it a thought. You know my office extension.

Carl (just Carl)

She stared at the message. Her heart beat in her throat. She would LOVE to get to know Carl better. Would it make it weird to then be his Servant? Probably no weirder than seeing him at work. She was surprised that HE suggested it. Of course, he would have had to. She thought of that kiss--she just intuitively felt she wasn't dreaming. There was more to that kiss than these games that they played.