The Real Story of O and Sir Stephen

O

[I am currently sitting on a bench in a small park in Westchester County, New York. To all outward appearances I am a normal middle aged housewife with a lap-top computer on my lap. What can't be seen however is that Master has placed a toy on the bench. Two phalluses; one for each hole, attached to a suction cup that is attached to the bench. Needless to say, the hard rubber intruders are deeply imbedded into my body. As a final touch, master has locked me down using a chain threaded through my nether ring and around the slat of the bench and padlocked shut. So neither myself, no my intruders are going anywhere soon [rolling my eyes.]

Master is sitting on a bench opposite me. I really don't mind this arrangement at all. In fact I find it incredibly arousing. But that is actually the problem. Master has forbidden me to climax. What makes it even harder is the Master has a remote control that causes my intruders to vibrate. By turning them on and off he has kept me on the edge of 'mort for the last half hour. The vibrating has stopped so now I can concentrate on my writing.]

True to her word, Anne-Marie pierced me the following night and it stung but was over quickly. The "training ring" was light and didn't bother me much. During the day Colette, Claire and Yvonne and myself read, played and relaxed in the garden. As the sun began to set, I was taken to the Solarium and attached to the pillars for 2 hours. With the sun streaming in, I had a feeling of complete exposure and vulnerability. Anne-Marie said this was to teach me about a woman's place in a man's world. After I was taken down, the girls would draw lots. First to see who would be whipped and then to see who would wield the implement. According to Ann-Marie the sheer randomness of the process was also a lesson. In life, a woman could not control her destiny but was buffeted by the wills of her Master (or Mistress). I learned that Colette and Chloe belonged to Ann-Marie and not to a man. Colette did have a Master who had brought her to Ann-Marie's for "refresher training." All three had spent time at Roissy. I asked Colette if Ann-Marie had ever been in attendance at library evening in Roissy and she said no, women were not allowed but there were sometimes afternoon special occasions she would attend.

I learned my lesson well. In one stretch, pool Collette was selected for 3 consecutive nights. Receiving a whipping to already injured flesh must have been even more panful than what I had felt. Each time, the whipping would continue until the poor girl was a whimpering mess and then "5 more minutes."

Each night, Anne-Marie would choose one of us to service her. There was nt emotion. Just mechanical servicing. I had not been allowed to climax for two weeks (Anne-Marie did not allow that) and that was making me a little fou, but I am sure this was all part of the plan.

Finally after 2 weeks, Sir Steven arrived. Anne-Marie removed the training ring and handed the permanent ring, threaded with the identification tag to Sir Stephen. I was told that the retaining ring had an internal spring and once it was closed it could not be reopened. I was placed onto the dais in the solarium and Master placed my rings on me. "Merci Maitre."

After being released, Master took me in his arms and kissed me deeply. I could feel my rings, much heavier than the trainer pull on my lip. The tag swung against my thigh feeling cold and alien. It hung down longer than I had anticipated. My clothes were fetched, my corset removed, and I slipped my dress on over my head and entered the back seat of Master's car. Words were not needed. Master knew how hungry I was to 'mort. Reading my mind, he said. "Not yet, mon amour." I sighed and nestled my head onto his muscular shoulder. He smelled like home.

[I am jolted as the intruders begin to vibrate fiercely. I look across to Master who is smiling at me and nodding. Once again, there is no need for words. I begin gyrating my pelvis to increase the friction on my sensitive parts and soon climax. A lovely smooth, 'mort. Not the extreme kind that I get during a flogging or riding the horse, but a gentle, warm feeling. I have learned to climax in near silence in public places, but Master can tell even from across the path. He nods again and I smile, a silent, "encore une fois." I am the luckiest woman in the world.]

Sir Stephen

I must admit that I was concerned about leaving O at Anne-Marie's for those 2 weeks. I needn't have been. As always, O, reacted perfectly, as a true submissive in love with her Master. I was head over heels in love with her, and appreciated her sacrifice, but also knew she needed discipline, punishment and anxiety in order to be completely fulfilled. It was time to finish my plans before beginning our vacation.

Chapter 13 -- Apres Ann-Marie, Avant de la Vacance

[I am sitting on the sofa (naked, of course) with my legs curled underneath me preparing to write my final chapter. Today is Tuesday, and true to his promise, Master made me ride the pony yesterday. This is an unusual torture because it is both psychological and physical. My entire essence is concentrated to the single ganglion of nerves (Master taught me that term) between my legs that is a woman's essence. For those unfamiliar, the wooden horse torture dates back centuries and there is artwork depicting this unique method of torturing women in the Spanish Inquisition. Each torturer over the centuries has created his (or her) own variation of the ordeal. Master's construction involves a four by four piece of lumber about 6 feet in length. Two hooks are screwed into the edges of the board on opposite sides at each end. Chains are attached to each hook and attached to hooks in the ceiling suspending the board about 1.5 meters above the floor. The board is on end, like a diamond, with one of the sharp edges sitting straight up.

First my hands are bound behind my back, Then I am made to straddle the "horse" with the edge of the board nestled into my nether regions. My wrists are then pulled high up behind my back and attached with a chain to a hook in the ceiling. This prevents me from falling, but also ensuring that I will have no painless way of relieving the pressure on my triangle. Two final touches and the pony ride is ready to begin. First, my ankle cuffs are attached to hooks at the back of the horse bending my legs backwards and placing the entire weight of my body onto the most sensitive part of my body. As a final touch, clover leaf nipple clamps are placed and my nipples stretched as the chain is pulled taut and attached to a hook screwed into horse in front of me, making me bend forward. Bending forward increases the tension on my shoulders as they are forced higher as my body leans forward. And voila, I am ready for my wooden pony ride. Sometimes Master adds a gag and blindfold to enhance the experience and once he stapled find sand paper to the top of the horse...(ouch) I find that a blindfold amplifies the pain. As I told you earlier, by removing sight, a blindfold it forces me to concentrate on the remaining sensations. Ear plugs can add to the feeling of isolation. Yesterday my vision is intact, but my mouth is stretched with a ring gag.

Master picks up a timer and hides it from me as he sets it. How long will my ride be? I wonder. The longest ride I have ever had in the past was 1 hour and I didn't know if I would survive it. Finally, with a flourish Master places on the timer on a table in front of me. Oh, mon Dieux, 90 minutes! I groan, but know better than to complain. I close my eyes and concentrate. The key to surviving a pony ride is to keep shifting positions with minute movements. By bending slightly at the waist I can relieve the pressure on my nipples, but this also increases the pressure on my shoulders and my nubbin. Leaning back increases the nipple pain but decreases the shoulder and nether pain. I found I can also scoot a bit forward or backwards to change the exact pressure point. Thus, as I am "riding."

When riding the pony, my entire being is focused that the one part of my body that is my female essence. The aching pain reminds me that both my pain and pleasure belong to my Master. At intervals Master will whip me. This is actually a relief because it takes my mind off of the agony between my loins. He removes the nipple clamps intermittently, both a blessing and a curse. The minutes creep by. After an hour of agony, my shoulders, nether parts and nipples are all screaming for relief. Master closes his book and approaches the horse, He tapes a vibrator to the horse, about a centimeter away from my essense. I could feel the vibrations transmitted through the horse. I became aroused but desperately needed more stimulation in order to 'mort. I stretched my body with all my might to scoot forward in order to allow the vibrator to reach my aching nubbin. Ahhh, finally. Then I began shifting my weight to adjust the sensations. I was truly bucking like a bronco rider trying to rub against the machine in order to climax....Intense pain, but also intense pleasure. Then finally, a 'mort, then another, and finally a third. Master rushes to my side and holds me up to prevent me from collapsing and dislocating my shoulders. Once again I hear the words, "I am proud of you Cherie," as he lifts me off the horse and takes me to bed. I service him with my mouth with my hands still bound behind my back and then we both fell into a blissful sleep.]

The week following my "vacation" at Anne-Marie's was filled with activity. Jacqueline was away at a photo shoot in Ireland so I had my bedroom to myself, at least. Her family continued to noisily occupy the remainder of my apartment. Master ordered me an entirely new wardrobe for the summer. This was necessary to accommodate my new rings and mostly consisted of sun dresses with flared skirts and another model with a zipper down the front for easy access. As before slacks or shorts were out of the question. My rings would sway when I walked, brushing up against my thigh. They were much heavier than my training ring, The ID disk swung like a pendulum. I soon became accustomed to the feeling. The rings were a constant reminder of my status. That I was property. That I was owned by Sir Stephen. I could hear a faint tinkling sound when I walked, and wondered if anyone could hear it. No one ever remarked on it. Although the permanent placements of my rings was designed to humiliate me, or to remind me of my status in life, to me, their constant presence was reassuring to me. I was happy, no that is the wrong word, I was overjoyed that Master had claimed me as his possession forever. I wore my rings proudly.

A few days before Jacqueline was scheduled to return home, Master arrived unexpectedly carrying a golf bag. My curiosity was quickly assuaged as he removed several instruments of corporal punishment from the bag....2 riding crops, an assortment of whips, a cat, a towse, 2 paddles, and the dreaded cane. All instruments had rawhide straps threaded through their handles. Master brought a hammer and nails, and proceeded to the hang the implements of my own torture to the wall of my bedroom. I assumed this was to remind me of my status in life but it could also have been for Jacqueline's benefit upon my return. As with anything Sir Stephen chose to do, I had no choice. I was concerned, since there was no lock on my bedroom door that someone would discover my secret. I was especially concerned about Jacqueline's younger sister who had developed an attachment to me. At 18, Natalie was plump and short. A complete opposite to her tall, shapely, sister. She was smart and fun to be with and we spent a lot of time together. She accepted my relationship with Jacqueline without question or comment.

A few days later, Master summoned me to an early supper at Le Petit Pontoise. I was surprised to find 2 gentlemen sitting at his table. I recognized one of men from Roissy and the other was a young redheaded lad whom I had never seen before. The older man was wearinga uniform and his Roissy ring. He was introduced as the Commodore and the younger man was his nephew Eric. Dinner was in a private room and continued for several hours. I sat silently with my bare derriere on the chair awaiting instructions. I did not participate in any of the discussions. Eventually the conversation turned to me, and Sir Stephen had me stand up and pull my dress up to reveal my mons and dangling rings. Master had me present my orifices and demonstrate my availability. Then He stood up and abruptly said, "I leave you her to you, gentlemen. Enjoy."

After Master departed, the Commodore immediately made use of my mouth and then collapsed in a drunken stupor. My mind was trying to sort out conflicting emotions. I had not been with another man other than Rene and Sir Stephen since Roissy. On the other hand, Master had given me as a present to his "friends," so I should be grateful. I was not planning on enjoying the night, but was content that I was pleasing Master by allowing him to offer me to his friends.

Internally, I sighed, because I had no choice in the matter anyway. The red-haired boy, seemed as if in a trance. He took me by the hand and rushed me downstairs and into a taxi. He took me to his apartment and used me continuously in all my holes for the entire night. His member was of prodigious length and width, so the plundering left me bruised and sore. Finally in the morning, he placed me in a taxi for my ride home. He kissed my hand before closing the door. What a gentleman! [ironic laughter].

Master summoned me that afternoon. He was clearly in a foul mood, both angry and also upset. I had never seen Him in such a state. After I had removed my clothes and handed them to Nora, he abruptly said, "O, it seems that Eric has fallen in love with you. He has asked me to free you so he can marry you. What do you think? If you ask me for your freedom, I will grant it"

I couldn't help but laugh. What an absurd idea. The redhead was such a BOY, and I loved Master and I knew that he also loved me. Suddenly, I looked into Master's panicked eyes and saw he had, for the first time, misunderstood my body language. He thought I was happy to hear the news. "I immediately threw myself at his feet and wept. I hugged his legs and said repeatedly, "Master, I am yours, please do not make me leave, I love you." Finally I heard him sigh and he picked me up in his strong arms and hugged me tightly. I could hardly breathe. I could feel the tension drain from his body.

Finally he took my hand and led me a room that used to be library. He had remodeled the room. There was now a plush red carpet on the floor and cork covered the walls with mirrors hung over the cork. The room was empty except for an arm chair and an apparatus that looked like a large "X." Clearly the cork was for soundproofing. I could sense immediately the purpose of this room and the purpose of what I would discover later is called a Saint Andrews Cross. There were straps at regular intervals along the X and it was easy to guess that they were there to immoblize my arms and legs to an open and splayed position. Master said gravely, "O, I must punish you this afternoon for your wantonness. You gave yourself willingly to others last night and for that you need to be punished." At first I was angry. Master GAVE me to those men. It was not my choice. But then I remembered my own ambivalence and saw, in that, hesitation, the reason for my punishment. I sighed and accepted His judgement.

"O, for the first time, I will be hurting you and there will absolutely be no pleasure to distract you. I will make every inch of your body scream with pain. This is punishment. No one outside this room will hear your screams. Eric will witness the scene to reveal to him your true nature, and what resolve it takes to tame you." And then his voice became tender and he said, "Do you consent to this?" Tears welled up in my eyes. Fear? Happiness? Perhaps a bit of both. "Yes, anything Master, just keep me as your own." He smiled and proceeded to strap my arms and legs to the cross.

After an eternity of screaming, wriggling, and begging, I finally fainted. Long before that time Eric turned pale and ran out of the room. I could hear the sounds of the poor lab vomiting. He did not return. I must have fainted, for as I regained consciousness I was laying in bed. Salve had been placed on my open wounds. There were blood stains on the sheets from where the cane had broken my skin. I lay there afraid to move, afraid to increase the pain. My heart filled with an immense pride. I had endured the unendurable. I had given Master what he required. Master was sleeping next to me and he must have felt me waken. He wrapped my in his strong arms and whispered in my ear, "Merci, O, you are perfect and I love you." I returned to sleep in ecstasy.

Sir Stephen

[Since I was a teenager I had dreamed of making a woman ride the wooden pony. For some reason the symbolism of this ancient form of torture excited me. Drawings in books had drawn me to tomes on the Spanish Inquisition. I believe the University Librarian thought me a mediaval scholar [chuckling]. In any event, taking O for pony rides was one of my greatest joys and she, as always responded beautifully, with multiple climaxes despite the pain. I once added sand paper to top of the beam, thinking it would increase her suffering but after a few minutes O's secretions had dissolved the abrasive...Oh well, can't blame a Dom for trying [wink].

I often regret that evening when I gave O to Eric and the Commodore. I tried to tell myself that I had no choice. He was a friend of the Commodore's and knew I had taken O, so when he requested I supply O for an evening with himself and his nephew, I felt I had no choice. However, I am always telling my students, you ALWAYS have choice. If one approach does not work, invent another. I had to admit I was too weak to create an option, so I meekly went along. I was angry with myself and took it out on her. That was not fair, but, as always, she forgave me.

O, was of course magnificent. Never questioning my judgement. But I could see she was hurt and disappointed that I would share her like that. I wanted to tell her that this was not my choice, but that would not have been appropriate. So, the play had to be enacted. Neither Bernard nor I could have predicted that Eric would fall in love with O. He was as flummoxed as I was when Eric burst into his room in the morning announced his intention and demanded my name and address. I assumed correctly that Eric would be repulsed by my punishment of O, and I was correct so, at the end of the day, all's was well that ended well. I did resolve, however, to never abandon O into another's control ever again. Of course I could not tell her that, but I think she knew. At least, I hoped she knew.

O

[I have just finished my daily exercise routine. Master requires I keep my body in tip top shape. Being the creative genius that he is, my exercise sessions are spiced up to prevent boredom [rolling my eyes]. I am naked, of course. After warming up with 200 sit ups and 200 pushups it is time for my stationary bicycle. Master has made two modifications to a regular Schwinn Air-Dyne Bicycle. For those not familiar with particular product, the bicyle has a large fan instead of a front tire. There are two ways to turn the blade of the fan, first through the pedals and second by pushing a pulling levers with my arms. Thus both my legs and arms are in use. Master has bolted a lucite phallus to the seat so when I mount the bike, I am filled. Secondly there are nipple clamps attached to the handlebar by a chain. After I insert the intruder into my canal, I place the nipple clamps on my nipples. Lastly, Master has attached a small generator to front spokes. I don't completely understand how it works, but when I am pedaling at a minimum speed and my arms are contributing the minimal amount, the generator emits a current that opens a switch. As long as the switch is open, all is well. However, if I slow down too much or my arms are moving too slowly, or a combination of both, the switch closes and I begin receiving shocks to my nipples and cervix. The longer the switch remains open the stronger the shocks. Needless to say, this provides excellent motivation for me to keep up the pace. Master, of course, has gradually increased the threshold so that I am required to work harder each day. I set a timer and must ride the bicycle for 1 hour each day. Needless to say, this has kept me very fit. If it is a work day, I must awaken early enough to perform my exercises prior to leaving for work. Today I am working from home and finished my routine, showered and am now sitting down to write; or more accurately, type.]