Summer Hire Ch. 08

"Sure." He stepped through the frame, turned, and held out his hand. "Just step through the looking glass."

She smiled at his joke, still a little uncertain. Then taking his offered hand for support, she stepped through to join him.

"Wow, it's warmer than I thought."

"And that's not even with the wall torches lit."

She looked around, trying to see where the torches hung from the wall.

He laughed, "No, sorry. I don't actually have any wall torches. That seemed a bit over the top, even for me. And not particularly safe. Although I do sometimes regret not putting them in. Some torches would definitely add atmosphere."

"Well," she said reaching out to run her hand down some chains hanging from a ceiling beam, "torches would certainly give this room that 'Spanish Inquisition' flavor that it's otherwise so sadly lacking."

He chuckled. "Indeed. It evokes a certain mood, if I don't say so myself."

She nodded in agreement, "I don't know. I say, 'why hold back?' You should have gone for the wall torches."

He laughed sheepishly, "I did have gas lines run behind the walls when it was being built, in case I changed my mind."

She shook her head, "You are incorrigible."

He grinned, "I try." Then he waved to the room. "Here, I'll give you the tour."

She nodded, feeling more comfortable, and more than a little curious.

He led her to a case of long, flat drawers. Sliding one of the drawers out, he revealed a neatly arranged collection of items. Most of the objects seemed to be fashioned from black leather, balls of brightly colored rubber, polished steel, and more leather. He brushed his hand lightly across them, stopping at one in particular, lifting it out. It was a red ball with a leather strap that went through the middle of it. One end of the strap had a polished chrome buckle and the other end of the strap had matching holes.

Showing it to her, he said, "So this is a ball gag. The ball is a medical-quality silicon rubber, so it doesn't taste nasty." He turned it over in his hand. "The bits here where the strap goes through the ball are wrapped in padded leather, so it doesn't pull too harshly on your mouth. The ball diameter is reasonable, not too huge, so it's a good gag to start with."

She followed his explanation somewhat uncertainly. It was clear to her now that a ball gag was meant to be worn in her mouth, with the strap buckled around her head. She just wasn't all that certain that she wanted to wear it.

He noted her hesitancy. "You don't seem entirely sold on the idea."

"I'm just not sure how it's... fun, or what'd it do for me. What does it do for you?"

He grinned. "I do like the look of a woman wearing a ball gag. There's... a sort of submission. The idea that she wants to make noise, but can't. For me, it's about making a woman get aroused and her wanting to cry out, but only being reduced to groans.

"Some women love to be held at the edge of an orgasm for a long time and played with. For me, having them gagged really enhances that sort of thing. I have this sense of controlling their voice, only allowing primitive, animal grunts and groans.

"Plus, some women, and men, love wearing a ball gag. Mostly, it seems to me, it's the ones who talk a lot when they get nervous. Being gagged forces them to hold that energy inside, instead of blathering it away.

"I'll warn you, though, a ball gag isn't the most comfortable thing in the world. I think it's really a small minority of folks who truly get off on wearing one. For the most part, I think that subs wear gags simply because their masters enjoy the look. Plus, there's a certain enjoyment that a good sub gets out of purely being decorative, knowing that it's making his or her master get that much more aroused."

As he spoke, Melissa was not surprised to find herself becoming more aroused. She was slowly getting used to becoming horny from simply thinking about being submissive. His description of a sub wanting to be decorative certainly tipped her in that direction. "After all," she asked herself, "what's the point of these fucking six inch heels, if not to be decorative?"

He asked, "Do you want to try it?"

Without words, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, suppressing her shudder of excitement.

He pressed the ball gently up against her mouth. She opened wider to allow it in, surprised by how large it felt in her mouth. She wasn't sure where to put her tongue, because the ball was crowding her tongue out of the way no matter how she tried to find a comfortable place.

Laying the leather straps over each shoulder, he stepped around behind her to fasten them tight. Even with the padded edges, the strap dug against her lips and her jaw was beginning to protest at being held so widely open.

He walked back around in front of her, admiring his handiwork. "Yes indeed, you look perfectly beautiful in a ball gag." He caressed the side of her face gently. "Here," he said, softly tracing her lips with his finger, "hold your lips open, as though the gag is almost too large to contain. Let your teeth show, gripping the ball, almost like your lips are puckered-up, kissing it."

She pulled back her lips to comply and was rewarded with a very satisfied grin on his behalf. "That's truly wonderful. I really like that look. I'm not sure if it's doing anything for you, but it's definitely making me extraordinarily horny."

Melissa tried to tell him that it was okay, but the words came out very indistinctly. He grinned and nodded.

She felt her saliva pooling in her mouth, threatening to spill over her lower lip, so she wrapped her lip around the ball again. He looked puzzled and asked, "Are your lips tired already?"

She shook her head 'no' and then tipped her head back to grunt out, "Gonna drool."

Once he parsed her meaning, he smiled and reassured her, "No, no, let it come out. Drooling around a ball gag is considered very proper form. I personally find it really seductive. There's a certain sort of helplessness and vulnerability that is really arousing."

Still not certain that she believed him, she pulled back her lips, allowing her mouth-full of saliva to spill out over her lower lip and drool down her chin. There was so much of it that she felt wet drops on her breasts. She couldn't believe that drooling like this was supposed to be sexy, but the look of contentment on Erik's face told her otherwise. It was clear that he wasn't lying to her about finding it attractive.

He groaned and told her, "now I really want to put something else in that wonderful mouth."

She opened her eyes wider and nodded her agreement, but he laughed and told her, "Not too quickly. I want to play with you some more. You're the most delightful sex toy imaginable. There is so much more to explore."

Despite her disappointment about not being released from the uncomfortable gag, she felt her own sense of arousal growing, feeding off of the obvious sexual energy she was generating within him. She couldn't believe that being called a "sex toy" could make her feel so horny.

He stepped back studying her. "Hmm. The heels are great. I like the dress, but it's got to go. And the arms... bound behind the back. Yep."

Then he looked at her more directly. Stepping carefully out of the mood, he asked, "You still okay with the ball gag? Not too tight? Jaw okay?"

She nodded.

"Good. You still okay with the scene? Feeling safe?"

She nodded again.

"Okay," he said, slipping back into his demeanor as her master. "Then let's turn it up a little. To continue your tour, first, we're going to have to remove that perfectly lovely dress. I need you fully naked and vulnerable."

He stepped closer, undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. She stood there quietly, trying not to let him see her trembling excitement. When he finished with the last button, he slipped the straps off her shoulders, letting her dress fall to the floor in a black lace puddle around her feet. He stroked the back of his hand down the length of her torso. She arched toward him, moaning softly.

He smiled and kissed her gently along her neck, tracing a line just above the collar she still wore, causing her to shudder.

"Oh yes. Very nice," he said in a satisfied tone. "Now lets see what we can do about those arms."

She looked down at her arms, which she had kept at her sides, as he slid open another drawer. He picked up a padded black leather cylinder with a big chrome zipper running its full length. Unzipping it, he pulled the cylinder open, stepping behind her once again. He drew her hands up, one at a time, shaping each of her hands to grasp her opposite elbow behind her back. Then he slid the leather cylinder around her lower arms, encasing them. She felt the pressure increase slightly as he pulled the zipper closed.

"It's called an arm binder," he whispered into her ear.

With her arms were trapped behind her and her back arched, she could feel her heart thumping loudly. She wasn't sure if it was panic, or arousal, or both.

He stepped beside her, grasping her leash near her collar and supporting her upper arm with his other hand to make sure that she didn't lose her balance.

"Now," he said brightly while tugging her gently forward, "let's explore the rest of the room, shall we?"

As she stepped forward to follow his lead, she felt her labia slide smoothly past each other. She was momentarily embarrassed to realize that she could actually feel her juices running down the inside of her thighs, making her legs slick as she walked. She decided that her rapid heartbeat was definitely arousal. Some fear was probably there too, but she was quickly growing desperate for any kind of of sexual release. She was amazed that being paraded like this across a room could drive her so crazy with lust, but there was no way to deny the reality of her response.

He stopped in front of a high bench, covered in padded black leather. The lower part of the bench seemed festooned with black leather straps and shiny metal buckles. The bench was less than a foot wide, and the end they were standing at narrowed to a rounded knob.

He tugged her forward so that she had to straddle the knob. Her labia slid open as the leather pushed past her. She groaned harshly against the ball gag as her clitoris slipped across smooth, wet leather. She stood, balancing on tip-toe, straddling the bench, shuddering and vibrating from the intensity of the sensation. Erik gently pressed her upper body forward and down, until her torso was lying across the cool, padded leather.

By drawing her down, he had also brought her clitoris into much firmer contact against the rounded knob. She shuddered, pressing herself down harder against the knob.

He laughed, "No, no, no. I have not yet given you permission to come."

She screamed in frustration against the gag.

"So this," he continued in a pleased tone, "is a spanking bench."

Just hearing those words nearly pushed her over the edge. She panted hard, groaning in desperate frustration at the requirement to hold back her orgasm.

He laughed again as he smacked his bare hand against one of her butt cheeks, knowing what it would do to her. She jerked and whimpered, wanting to beg him for permission to come, but unable to talk.

He spanked the other butt cheek and she whimpered even louder, vibrating in her struggle to hold her orgasm back.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I know that I am spoiling you horribly, but you are allowed to come the next time I touch you.

She gasped for air, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until he caressed her buttocks, which released a bucking, thrashing orgasm that seemed to last for minutes. Just as her jolts of release were beginning to quiet down, he resumed spanking her. She slammed against the leather padding again and again, as her body clenched in orgasmic spasm. She screamed in frustration against the gag, helpless to stop this overwhelming orgasm with her arms fastened securely behind her.

Finally, he slowed and stopped, letting her orgasm taper off. She collapsed, exhausted across the bench, chest heaving as she tried to draw air past the gag. He quickly undid the gag's buckle, letting the ball fall from her mouth. She gasped, drawing in huge gulps of air.

Then he unzipped the leather arm binder as well. Once released, her arms fell of their own accord to either side of the bench. She felt like a rag doll, completely unable to move on her own.

He stoked his hand along her head and back for a long time, as her breathing gradually slowed. Without meaning to, she drifted into sleep, sprawled across the bench. He continued to stroke her for awhile. Then, moving carefully, he picked her up in his arms. She roused to a confused wakefulness, ineffectually trying to wave her arms.

"Hush," he said quietly. "We'll save the rest of the tour for another day. Now it's time to get you to bed. You've had quite a day."

She grunted agreement, snuggling into his shoulder.

He carried her, cradled in his arms, up to her bed. Crouching down, he pulled back the covers as best he could while still holding her. Slowly, he laid her into bed. She mumbled, "Thanks." He undid her collar and slipped off her shoes. Then he pulled the covers up over her. He looked down at her for awhile and then bent over to kiss her forehead. Turning out the light, he walked softly out into the hallway. Pausing, he turned and looked back at her sleeping form, before quietly closing the door.