Tales From Subspace

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"You will wear this until we get downstairs." I nodded. Traci went behind me and buckled the blindfold carefully around my eyes, moving my hair out of the way. "You'll be able to walk until we get there." That was okay with me. I felt myself giving over to the slave way of thinking and knew that it was the blindfold. Erotic darkness covering my senses with velvet night.

Nothing weakens your resolve like a blindfold. It softens you, robs you of will. She took my hand and led me slowly out of the study. I followed her. "Careful here." She said, guiding me a bit to the right of the corridor. She had me stop, putting my hand on the railing to some steps. Telling me that there were thirteen steps to the bottom. I went down, counting carefully. I could smell leather and rubber with the darker smell of basement. Jon spoke.

"Bring her over here and strip her down. I want a good look at the merchandise." I quickly felt hands on the laces of my shoes before they were removed. Then my pants, pantyhose, shirt, bra and finally, my panties. I was naked. Another layer of vulnerability exposed to sight. No more false veneer of civilization. A hand took my elbow and led me forward.

"Spread your legs." Jon commanded me. I did it. His hand taking my wrist and deftly securing it with a quick action to chains above me. Soft wrist cuffs holding it upwards. He did my other wrist. The heat from his body warming the front of me subtly. Body heat, very nice, especially in contrast with the coolness of the room. Hint of danger as I gave up control of my limbs. Pulse bounding.

I heard him walking around me, slowly. I took the chains in my fists and held on tightly to their comforting solidity. I cocked my head trying to hear his motion and felt the sharp sudden sting of a strap against the backs of my thighs, surprising me, making me gasp at the unexpected delicious pain. It had been too long. I was instantly ready.

"Head up, Anne."

"Yes, Sir." I said, around the lack of air in my chest. He put his hands on my breasts and pinched the nipples lightly to make them hard. I sealed my lips shut. The one thing that I had learned very early on about the game was that the pleasure was never first. Tonight was to be no exception. I felt deft fingers closing clamps over the tips of my nipples. Tightening them expertly to the very threshold of pain. I fought to keep a groan inside myself. Sweat breaking out to form a sheen on my skin. Hands patted my shoulders and the added weight of the clamps on my nipples pulled maddeningly. I heard him step back to survey his handy-work. Moving once again close to me to whisper into my ear. Hand lightly traveling the curve of my buttock and upper thigh in a lingering caress. "Do you like Greek, little bottom? I do it very well." I shivered at the thought and couldn't answer because my mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. "Since you hesitate to answer my questions. I need to find no excuse to punish you, Anne. You yourself have provided it."

"I'm sorry, sir. I beg forgiveness."

"Then answer my question."

"It's been so long that I am frightened." Truth was a scary thing. That was also one of the few places that your virginity actually does grow back and, sad to say, I had let it. I moved back into comforting ritual. "If it pleases you, Sir."

He removed the blindfold and I looked around me for the first time at the dungeon. It must be some unspoken S/M rule that these places are always in the basement. I saw a large punishment cross in the corner. Several recessed cabinets and large open spaces. In one corner there was a bar that Traci was sitting at, sipping a tall glass of what looked like water. Jon drew my attention back to him.

He put his large hands on my waist drawing my gaze back to the planes and angles of his face. A roughly handsome face in a rugged sort of way. He smiled kindly at me with teeth that looked very white and straight in the indirect lighting.

"When we break a rule. That rule is explained." His voice was matter of fact. "You, as a slave, have no right to look me, as a Master, in the eye." I dropped my gaze quickly from his eyes. "Correct but futile. We call this the Rule of the Eye." I nodded. "Why will you be punished?"

"This slave has broken the Rule of the Eye. I looked you full in the face. I beg your forgiveness and accept without question, your judgment." I watched his hands kneading my hips. Hoping that what I had said was ritualized enough to please him. Falling back into this foreign way of thinking more easily than I had imagined that I would. Much more easily than a small part of me hoped.

"Very nicely put, Anne."

"Thank you, sir." I answered. Waiting for him to continue with his will.

"Tell us how your other Master had you act." I trembled then, burning with humiliation so intense it was almost like pain. I took a breath and spoke the words that Rob had taught me six years and a lifetime ago.

"I am a submissive. Forever and always beneath my Master or Mistress. I am to be always graceful, willing and accepting of anything that the Master or Mistress decides. I will be punished for three reasons; Your pleasure, Infraction of the rules, or my Education. I am to show no preferences of any kind. I am merely here to serve." I managed to get it all out without stumbling over any of it. They seemed pleased with it.

"What was your safe-word?" Jon asked, flicking the clamps lightly in an effort to distract me from his words. It almost worked too, but I forced myself to focus on him and him alone. My body and my need, secondary.

"Blue, Sir." I gasped out as the gentle motion of the clamps hurt me slightly, just enough to be almost luxurious. Traci went to a dry erase board in the corner and wrote the word `Blue' under a legend that read; Language Of A Quitter.

I practically winced at the thought. I wasn't going to say it now, unless I absolutely had too. Never, ever. Not here at least, not tonight on my first night.

"I will ask you some questions, Anne, so that our time together is fruitful to both of us. There is severe punishment for lying to me and Traci will be taking notes so that later down the road I can check your answers from tonight." He paced in front of me. I kept my eyes down and forward. "What repels you?"

"Nothing really. I have not done very much. I have no interest in certain foul bodily secretions. I have no idea, Sir." That was honest. How was I to know what repelled me unless I actually did it?

He was studying me. Touching my arms lightly, my back. Putting his body near enough to almost touch me, then drawing away. What was he trying to do?

"Ever been in a sling before?" A fisting sling? My body stiffened with terror.

"No, Sir. Never, Sir." I stammered with fear.

"This frightens you?" He showed some real interest at the thought that I might truly be frightened of something. My heart trip-hammered. Surely he could hear it.

"It is not my position to deny you, Sir." Traci said no accidents and I held unto that thought like I was drowning.

"Would you have any objections to being pierced?" That was a trick question. I had almost had it done a couple of years ago, just to see if I would like it, but I chickened out.

"No, Sir." I answered quickly. "Anyplace but my clitoris, Sir. I wish to risk no permanent damage to something that I am quite fond of in my own way." Jon pressed his body suddenly against my back. His hand slipping into the moist apex of my thighs, making me groan as he touched the small knot of feeling that we had been discussing. Fingers firm. My sex, wet and starving.

"Quite the smart-ass, aren't we, Novice?"

"Yes, Sir." I had to fight to control my words around the rapid surge of fever that flowed over me. It had been so long and he was so hot.

"Forgive me, Sir."

"You will come to know many exotic pleasures in my house, Anne. I am an explorer of the sensual." I was beyond wet. I could feel it on my thighs- thick, hot, moist. Smell the scent of arousal on the air like sweet perfume. "I will take the time to know you better than you know yourself." I believed him. "Your strengths, your weaknesses. I am always searching for new ways to open your soul...” His fingers slid into my sex deftly. "To my touch." My legs grew weak and I held tightly to the chains supporting me. His fingers feeding the desire that was growing inside me to unbearable proportions. I moaned against my will, softening all over as his fingers slid home. "I have traveled the world learning how to torment and treasure. I know the Fist, The Greek and the feel of slick tight cunt around my cock. I can safely take you beyond your wildest fantasies." His voice was a mere breath of sound against my ear.

"Yes, please...” I begged, beyond shame. Hoping for. What? Orgasm? Acceptance? I closed my eyes in misery. My spread legs aching terribly. My head rolling into my arm, helplessly. I felt my heart in my throat. I ached with desire. A throbbing, pulsing heat. I tried to speak, but bit it off because I had not been spoken too. The last of rational thought in my head.

"Speak, Anne." He ordered, never ceasing the gentle motion between my legs. This was so hard for me. I had never been very good at revealing secrets. Beat me, but don't ask me why I want you too.

"I'm frightened of who I am, sir." Soft hands on my shoulders. Traci. The tenderness more of a horrifying shock than the brutality. More painful, inside, anyways.

"Why?" Jon asked, his voice sounding almost intrigued by what my reply would be. "Answer me, and never, ever hesitate."

"I fear punishment as much as I crave it. I fear because it has been so long and I am so hungry." Total honesty. Total submission. Letting light into the darkness that was inside me. The darkness that was my sexuality. Savagely suppressing the conservative voices of shame that told me this...wonderful feeling would damn me for all time to the eternal pits of Hell. "I fear the loss of control." The true crux of my problem. I felt tears then, filling my eyes and captured by the edge of my lashes. "I am not supposed to enjoy..." "You are bound." Traci said to reassure me. Attempting to ease the guilt that flowed through me. "We are in control." I whispered the secret that I had kept to myself so long that to reveal it was more intimate than the act of love itself. My voice was low.

"I orgasm under the strap." Shame spilling the wetness from my eyes. Hands stroking me from both sides. Jon's low laugh from behind me then his soothing voice in my ear.

"It's very difficult for you, almost unbearable. The guilt. The shame of it all. It burns your soul with searing intensity." I nodded. "Yet, even now you have the power to absolve yourself. There is nothing wrong with you and nothing wrong with us." I took a deep breath to regain control. His hands leaving my shuddering body. "Prepare her for punishment."

"Yes, Jon." Traci answered him. Her hands falling from me as well. "Go with it, Annie. We'll make it good for all of us." Flush of desire. Yearning for this. Get the pain over with, so the pleasure could follow. Build my passion to an unbearable level of heat and need. Set me free.

I set myself. Rational mind shut off. Dreading the next few minutes. No matter how much you crave it or want it. The whippings, paddles and spankings hurt, even when it absolves the guilt. Even when it makes the fire between your legs burn white hot. Even when it teaches you about limits, or your own soul. The bite of leather against flesh will eventually break you.

Traci stood in front of me with the blindfold in her hands.

"You will not see which one of us is instructing you tonight. Do you understand?" Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"Yes, ma'am." I affirmed, keeping my eyes forward. The soft leather buckled over my eyes and Jon asked me.

"Why will you be punished?" His tone was hard. The question direct. I answered.

"I, a lowly novice, dared to look you in the eyes. Boldly and without humility." I felt my arms lowered to the height of my waist. Hands on my shoulders pushing me to my knees. I automatically kept my legs open while kneeling. When I was set very solidly on my knees with no pull on my shoulders. Someone took the bulk of my hair and laid it over my shoulder, smoothing it carefully. I remained still, with my head forward.

The blindfold is an amazing device. It's surprisingly calming, yet every other sense you possess comes completely awake. I felt air on the hair of my skin as subtle shifts of pressure. My ears almost preternatural in their acuity.

It still took me by surprise. The first hard stroke across my buttocks. I gasped, clutching at the chains with desperate fingers. The strap fell again and again.

I sealed my lips shut and tried to maintain what was left of my dignity in extremis. Whoever it was swinging the strap was a real expert. The blows were evenly spaced, deliciously hard. Rapidly painful as the blood rushed to my skin, sensitizing it. I called on reserves of self-control I didn't know I possessed. My safe word a litany in my mind; `blue, blue, blue.' Yet still I remained silent.

Silent even after the tears started to form in my eyes and wet the underside of the blindfold. Quiet even after I felt myself breaking open inside. My head back, body tensing with agonized passion. Orgasm threatening me with sudden violent release. My own breath harsh in my ears. Thigh muscles set like stone and trembling with strain. I never even realized the moment that they had stopped. I struggled against the pain. Fought not to cum on my knees. My skin slick with sweat. Hair damp and inarticulate animal moans coming from deep in my chest.

"Easy now." Came a tender voice and gentle hands on the back of my neck. "Good girl." I collapsed, unable to support my weight even on my knees. Pulling great lungfuls of air into starved tissues. Feeling weak all over, soft.

The hands freed my wrists. Letting my arms fall limply to my knees. I felt a collar being slipped around my neck. I pulled away and hands steadied my face. Low voices telling me to be still, calm. Just a collar. Wide, but not too tight. A chain snapped to it. The gentle tug to the right told me which direction they wanted me to go in. I remained on my knees, trying to keep up with normal steps. Feeling carpet under my knees. I ran into a low bench and waited to be led.

"Climb up, lay on your back." Perfect obedience in my every gesture. I strove to be graceful around the weakness in my limbs. The air perfumed with the scent of sex from the warm fluids on my thighs. Need, a raw animal wanting, burning through me.

They stretched my arms over my head and secured them. My ankles, as well.

"Why will you be punished?" I couldn't remember a reason other than the last reason that I had given. My heart stopped and a spasm jerked my body. "One crime, one punishment." He said.

"For my education, Sir, or your pleasure." Someone knelt between my legs and hands touched my sex. Opening the hot, wet folds. Exploring the opening just a little roughly, deliciously. Where was the pain? This wasn't pain. Long fingers entering me gently, deftly.

I heard the soft sound of cellophane and the hard snap of rubber. A soft moan escaped my lips. Two fingers, then three. Testing the width of my opening, my resilience. Other fingers lifting the hard kernel of my clitoris and pinching it mildly, tantalizing it, making it grow hard with demand.

A body moved between my legs. An organ rubbing up my cleft with the pull of dry rubber slowing it down, making me moan through closed lips. Resting briefly at the gate of my vagina. Hands rested at the sides of my face.

The cock started to slide home, into my tight well. Breaking through the resistance of six years of celibacy with a thick wet scraping. Resting inside me with all the time in the world to fuck me. The ache of dilated flesh convulsing my cavern as it tried to expel the invading member.

The stiff cock started to move in an age-old rhythm. Rocking my sex. Deeply in, almost out. Barely brushing the gate of my womb as the hard rhythmic thrusts roughly worked me to climax.

My senses blazed. The inferno inside me coming quickly to critical mass. Hard hands took my breasts, changing my focus from my sex to my breasts. Releasing the clamps so the blood flowed into the deprived tips. Agony pushing me closer to the pinnacle. I heard Jon's voice near my ear, low. Floating from behind me. Confusing my senses. "Traci fucks pretty good, doesn't she?" Overdrive. It wasn't him pumping me. It was her. The Mistress expertly rocking my clitoris against my pubis in that endless, relentless rhythm that my body knew so well.

"Yes, Sir." I gritted out between clenched teeth. `Don't cum. Not now.' I told myself, rolling my head upon the bench under me. Fighting to restrain the inevitable tide that would take me over the edge and into the abyss.

"Go ahead, orgasm. Traci is." I needed no more encouragement to let myself go. Abandoning any attempt at self-control, I arched against the bonds holding me. Widening my legs as far as I could get them in the bondage to deepen her access to me. She pushed deeper and harder.

The orgasm swept over me and annihilated me. Rocking the very foundations of my existence until my breath froze in my lungs. Heart beating as though trying to escape my chest.

I cried out with it, moaning. Body twitching with sharp, violent jerks. Hands on my flesh, but whose? Hers or his? I couldn't tell and truly didn't care. Still she did not stop. Driving me higher to a new plane of sensual gratification. I cried out, shrilly. The litany in my mind becoming tumult- `No, don't stop this exquisite torment. I yield to you. I yield to you."

"I yield to you." I whispered. "I am yours." I whispered as the next series of convulsions shook me. I went beyond thought into animal instinct. The point where only one thing has any meaning. Sex, pleasure, the pain of touch.

Another orgasm swept me. Bigger, louder, more shattering to my body. Too much! They had to stop. I could take no more of this unbearable pleasure. I tried to free myself with uncontrollably frantic movements, but was unable too.

I felt a cock by my lips and took it hard into my throat. Arching my head back to take all of it. Deeper into my shuddering mouth. Any distraction welcome to my fevered mind. Forced to concentrate on what I was doing to his warm human flesh. The pleasure became more manageable, all-encompassing. Almost fantasy to me. Romance in chains. The organ pulled from my vagina, leaving it clenching on emptiness. I longed to have my hands free. `Closer, master. Deeper. Cum in me, please.' I could feel the tension in him. Taste salt-thick fluid leaking from the tip of his organ like honey on my tongue. `Give it to me, your slave. Favor me by this simple service to you.' My thoughts a ménage of ritual submissive surrender.

I felt him push harder and my hands were freed from their restraint. By touching him I knew he faced Traci above me. Fucking my face without choking me. I clutched his thighs as he quickened his pace. Shallowing slightly so he could cum away from my mouth. Thinking that he wasn't going to let me taste his release. I laughed and held fast. I was not some silly high school girl afraid to taste of a man. Much less the essence of the Master.

My grip pushed him over the edge. He went absolutely rigid except for the sharp uncoordinated motion of his hips. He groaned and hot fluid rolled over my tongue. I swallowed and went to the very root of his organ. Feeling the twitches and spurts against the back of my tongue. Tears rolling from my eyes as I took him into me as far as I could. Devouring his release as though his essence was the sum total of his power over me. I became the one in control, because I had allowed him to have me.