Cute Girls

Waitress Made to Serve

It was almost closing time when Sonya saw him come into the coffee shop again. Immediately she felt the same lightness in her stomach that she had experienced at noontime when she had served him lunch. He was a big man, about six-three, 230 pounds, heavy set but not fat. His face had strong features, with a prominent nose and chin, and his blue eyes showed intelligence. She judged him to be in his 40’s, one of those men who look physically powerful and carry themselves like they are not afraid of anything or anyone.

They had talked a little at lunch time about the weather and what a nice hotel it was, but as she remembered it, she had done most of the talking, and he had mainly just looked at her. She had found it difficult to walk away from his table to serve the other diners. He had told her that is name was Carl, and that he was staying in the hotel.

Sonya had been not been with a man for a long time. Middle aged and average looking, men did not seem to notice her, especially in her frumpy waitress dress with the little name tag that said “Sonya.” Her life was the unending routine of serving mediocre food six days a week at the hotel coffee shop. At night she would lose herself in the fantasies of romance novels, always becoming aroused when the heroine was forced to submit to a powerful man. A few times she had been carried away to the point that she sought out stories on the internet about sexual submission.

The coffee shop closed at 9 PM, and there were no other customers when Carl walked in and took a seat in the corner booth.

Sonya walked over to him and smiled. “Hello again. You must like our coffee shop food.”

He looked at her, but did not return her smile. For what seemed like a minute he locked his eyes on hers. Then finally he spoke.

“Bring me a piece of pie and a black coffee.”

Sonya was flustered by his abruptness and the power of his stare.

“Yes, sir,” she said. The words seemed to come from deep within her.

She prepared the pie and coffee in a kind of trance. When she took it to him, he said nothing, but his eyes never left hers. She put down the plate and cup and retreated to the safety of the kitchen. The cook was just finishing his clean up.

“Closing time. I’m outa here,” he said, and he turned off the lights in the kitchen as he left. Sonya had no choice but to go back into the dining area.

Carl was gone. He had taken one bite out of the pie, hardly touched the coffee. There was a $20 bill on his table, and a folded piece of paper. Sonya collected the money and opened the note.

“Room 412. Your safe word is velvet.”

Sonya gasped. “This can’t be happening,” she thought. “Somehow this man has sensed my situation and is using it to try to get to me. Does he really think I am going to come to his hotel room? And giving me a safe word! What makes him think that I even know what a safe word is?”

“Are you OK?” asked the cashier, who was waiting patiently for Sonya to bring the bill and the money.

Sonya realized that she had been pacing back and forth in the dining area. “Oh, I’m fine. Just have a few things on my mind tonight. Here’s the last money of the day.”

The cashier and cook were quickly gone, and Sonya was left to clear the last dishes and lock up the restaurant. She performed these functions in a daze and then found herself in the lobby of the hotel. In spite of her trepidations, she was making note of the fact that the elevators were down the hall that led to the door to the employee parking area, and that she could easily get on an elevator without anyone seeing. It was like the fates were lining up to lead her on.

She started walking down the hall, still not knowing what she was going to do. To her surprise, when she got to the elevators she saw her arm extend and her finger push the UP button. “I didn’t decide to do that,” she thought.

Once in the elevator she knew she was going to go to room 412 and let happen whatever was going to happen. “Anything is better than continuing to live the way I am,” she told herself.

Carl opened the door before she had even knocked. He had heard the elevator opening and had been watching through the peep hole in his door. From experience he knew that with a new woman it was important to keep the momentum going. Even though he sensed he was dealing with a woman who wanted to submit, he had learned that the slightest hesitation before he had established control could break the spell.

For Carl it was all a game of power. He was the alpha male in the jungle, building his harem to pass on his superior genes to as many sons and daughters as possible. Fortunately for him, his primitive instincts were matched by the unconscious instincts of many women to be dominated by a strong male, especially in the sexual arena. When he met a woman he thought might be susceptible, he would use his eyes and body language in subtle ways to let her know that she was being admired and desired. When talking with her, he would leave gaps of silence that would almost border on rudeness. A woman who had no interest would quickly find an excuse to back away, but the woman he wanted would linger just a little too long, as Sonya did in the coffee shop. Then he would issue an overt invitation for her to follow him. If she did, fine; if she didn’t, no problem, he would find another.

With a job that required him to be traveling constantly, Carl was able to meet and establish some measure of control over women in a number of cities. The best part was what he called the “breaking-in” of new women like Sonya.

Sonya fit the profile of his easiest and most satisfying targets. She would not be called pretty by most men, but she was not unattractive, and she had a good figure. He was intrigued by the prodigious amount of auburn hair tucked up on her head. Also, he had sensed that she lacked excitement in her life and that she was drawn to strength.

“Come in, Sonya,” he said, more in the nature of a command than an invitation.

Sonya walked into the room and heard the door closed and locked behind her. Carl had a large suite, with a separate bedroom. She found herself in the middle of a sitting room, with a couch, a desk, several upholstered chairs, and a small dining table. Two large crystal wine glasses stood on the table, next to opened bottles of red and white wine. A single, long-stemmed red rose also lay on the table. Sonya took all this in at a glance, and was impressed with Carl’s confidence that she would come.

“You have a very nice room,” she said, trying to act normally.

Carl walked to the table and picked up a glass. “Your first and only choice tonight is which wine you want, red or white.”

“White,” she said softly, realizing that she was not there to make small talk. In her anxious state, the offer of wine was very welcome.

He filled the glasses, white for her, red for him.

“Drink it all now,” he said.

It took her over a minute to drink the entire glass. The warmth and loosening of tension spread through her body. He sipped his red wine and watched her.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

He smiled for the first time. “I am going to bring out a part of you that you know is there, but are afraid to admit. You are free to leave anytime you want, but I don’t think you will.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage to say.

He took the empty wine glass from her and placed it on the table. With his hand under her chin he raised her face to look up at him. Very slowly he bent down and brushed his lips across hers. She closed her eyes and gave him her lips, hoping he would continue.

He pulled back and looked at her. “As long as you are here you will call me ’sir’, and you will do whatever I tell you. Is that understood?”

Sonya knew she had reached the point of no return and fought against feelings of panic. His eyes communicated such power and confidence. She was afraid, but the desire she felt was irresistible.

“Yes sir,” she said, and then added, “I guess I just have to trust you.”

“Yes,” he replied, and he began to pull the pins out of her hair to let it fall around her shoulders. “You are lovelier than you know.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. No one had ever said that to her before.

He took his time arranging her hair. Sonya knew that her hair was her best feature, and she was pleased that he admired it. When it was down around her face like this, it made her feel softer, more vulnerable. She was aware that somehow he knew this, because he kept fluffing her locks around her cheeks, like he was enclosing her in a box of her own hair.

At last he seemed satisfied. The way he looked at her made her feel that he wanted her.

“Come with me over to the table. I want to show you some things,” he said.

She stood beside the table, and put down her empty glass. He put his glass beside hers and refilled them both.

“Sip slowly this time,” he said. “I want you relaxed, but not too much.”

Gratefully she took a swallow of the wine. It warmed her and suppressed the part of her that was still resisting.

He reached under the table and retrieved a small duffle bag. After placing it on the table, he slid back the zipper and reached inside. The first item he pulled out was a black leather riding crop. Without saying a word, he put the crop on the table in front of her.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

He watched her for a moment, and then extracted another item from the bag. This time is was a pair of padded wrist cuffs, complete with silver rings and a spring clasps for securing them together, or to some stationary object.

Sonya unconsciously began shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she contemplated the meaning of what she was seeing. She took another big swallow of the wine.

Again, he gave her a few moments, and then produced his next item: a two-flap leather paddle with a braided cord handle. In a sudden movement he struck the palm of his left hand with the paddle, making a loud slapping sound.

“Ohh!” said Sonya, her eyes wide. She felt a vicarious sting on her ass.

Carl gave her a knowing smile, and at the same time turned the paddle in his hand so that the braided handle was pointed at her. “I like to use both ends of this little toy,” he said, as he slowly rotated the handle.

Sonya had no trouble imagining possible uses for the handle. “Oh my,” was all she could say.

The next item was an incongruous surprise. Carl produced an old-fashioned fly swatter, the kind with a wire handle and a pad made of some kind of course fabric. Sonya could imagine the sting of that fabric on her body. She looked at Carl, but the return stare she received made her drop her eyes.

Carl again reached into the bag and began to remove a variety of sex toys, all in their original cellophane packaging. There were four or five vibrators of different sizes and shapes, a set of nipple clamps connected by a chain, several anal stimulation devices, and a fat wax candle.

Sonya took another big swallow of wine. “You can’t be planning to use all of those things on me.”

“Are you saying I can’t?”

“No sir, I’m not saying that.”

The last item in the bag was a gift-wrapped package. Carl put it on the table and looked at Sonya.

“Take this and go into the bedroom. In it you will find some special clothes I want you to wear. You are to put on these clothes, and nothing else. When you are ready, knock on the door.”

Sonya took the box and crossed the room. She entered the bedroom and turned to look at Carl. “Can I have another glass of wine?”

“No. Close the door. I don’t want to see you again until you are properly dressed.”

The bedroom was very spacious, with a king-sized bed and two comfortable looking stuffed chairs. A large picture window outlined a spectacular view of the city. Sonya sat on the edge of the bed and unwrapped the package. One by one, she removed the items and put them on the bed.

She expected to find sexy underwear, but this lingerie was different from anything she had ever seen. The black bra was strapless, and had push-up half cups that had notches allowing the wearer’s nipples to protrude. It was held together in the front with two bows that seem to invite pulling. The matching thong also had bows in the front, and along the sides. It was obvious that pulling all the bows would allow the thong to be removed without sliding it down the legs.

The outer garments consisted of a black mini-skirt, a low cut cream-colored silk blouse, and a pair of black, four inch heels.

Now that she was out of Carl’s commanding presence, Sonya began to have second thought about what she was doing. Could she really trust this stranger not to hurt her? On the other hand, he did tell her she could leave anytime. These new clothes were sexy, but decent, and she could walk out in them if necessary.

While these thoughts were running through her brain, she noticed that her hands were busy removing her formless waitress uniform. There was obviously a part of her that couldn’t wait to put on what Carl had given her. She grabbed the clothes off the bed and took them into the bathroom, where there was a full length mirror. It took only a few minutes for her to transform herself from a frumpy waitress into a sexy vamp.

She was pleased at how good her body looked, especially her breasts. The bra was incredible in the way it created an inviting cleavage, and her nipples could be clearly seen pushing against the silk blouse. As she moved, the friction of the rubbing made the nipples stiffen and protrude more.

Turning sideways to the full length mirror, she admired the way the high heels made her ass stick out from the rest of her body. The round form was tightly encased in the short skirt, and it looked very firm. She remembered a comment a friend had once made about her “bubble butt.”

Quickly she fluffed her hair and studied her face in the mirror. She had no lipstick or other makeup with her, so it would have to do as it was. Carl probably was more interested in her other parts anyway.

She took her old clothes back into the bedroom to put them in the box. As she did so, she noticed that there was one more thing in the box. At first she thought it was a fancy bracelet, but then she realized it was a pair of elegantly designed wrist cuffs, made of very soft leather. Small gold rings on each cuff would allow them to be clipped together binding her hands.

“What the hell,” she thought. “I’ve come this far.” She slipped the cuffs over her wrists and pulled the little Velcro tabs that tightened them. Then before more worries could inhibit her, she walked to the bedroom door and knocked, just as she had been instructed.

“Come in, Sonya,” said Carl.

She opened the door and walked proudly into the sitting room. So preoccupied with observing Carl’s appraisal of her, she failed at first to notice the other man seated on the couch. When she finally saw him, she gasped.

“Ohhh,” she stammered. “Who is this?”

“Never mind,” said Carl, standing up to face her. “Walk over here to me.”

There were those eyes again. They held her and made her temporarily forget the other man. She walked slowly up to Carl, carefully balancing on the highest heels she had ever worn.

Carl looked her over and smiled. “I knew there was a sexy woman under that waitress uniform,” he said.

He took her shoulders and turned her so that he could admire her from the side and the back. When her back was to him, he pulled her wrists back and placed a clip in the rings, effectively tying her hands behind her back.

Sonya was now facing the other man, who was sitting calmly in on the couch watching her with great interest. She saw that he was very good looking, and quite young, probably a college boy in his late teens or early twenties. With his curly brown hair and brown eyes, and his perfectly proportioned six foot body, she thought he would be a coed’s dream date.

“Sonya, I would like you to meet my nephew, Nick,” said Carl. “I have invited him here to teach him a few things. I assume that is OK with you?”

As he asked the question, Carl wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back. At the same time the finger tips on his other hand brushed lightly across her lightly covered nipples.

“Yes sir,” was all she could think to say.

At his age, Nick was driven by his sexual desires. He could never get enough, and he was more than willing to meet up with his Uncle Carl at every opportunity. Carl liked to involve him in his domination games, because Nick was very potent—he was big, hard as a rock, and could come four times in four hours.

“Come over here, Nick, and help me determine how well these clothes are fitting,” said Carl.

As Nick got up to walk across the room, Carl went behind Sonya, put his hands on her upper arms, and pulled her shoulders back. With her hands tied behind her and her shoulders back, her breasts were thrust forward pointing at Nick.

“See how tight the blouse is,” he said to Nick.

Nick wasted no time running his hands over Sonya’s breasts and slipping his fingers down inside the blouse. He could feel her hard nipples pressing into his palms.

“Ahhh,” Sonya inhaled deeply and twisted slightly in Carl’s grasp.

“The blouse is very tight, Uncle Carl,” said Nick. “Maybe I should undo a button or two.”

“Good idea, Nick,” responded Carl, who had his head down nuzzling Sonya’s neck and looking down at her breasts from behind. “Undo all but the last two buttons.”

With the buttons undone, the blouse opened almost to Sonya’s waist, and her bra-covered breasts were very much on display. The half cups with the notches kept them thrust up and out, but hid very little. The effect was entirely erotic.

“Feel the texture of her nipple,” said Carl.

Nick gently took her two nipples between his fingers and thumbs and rubbed the surfaces.

“Ohhh.. God,” sighed Sonya.

“Now Nick, we could continue doing things like that to try to ignite the furnace in this fine body, but I detect an element of resistance in her. To get her really hot we have to eliminate all resistance and make her completely open and submissive, willing to do and experience anything. Are you ready to help me?”

“Of course, Uncle. How do we do it?” Nick asked, pretending he had never done this before, all the while moving his hands over her breasts, hips, and ass.

“With pain and humiliation. She will plead for the pain to stop, knowing that it leads to pleasure, and the humiliation will result in her no longer caring about how she appears. Once she is in that state, her most basic instincts will take over, and she will only want to please and be dominated.”

Sonya shuddered, hearing them talk about her like she was some kind of laboratory experiment. At the same time, she was highly aroused by her helplessness and the way they were looking at and touching her body.

“The first thing we need to do is get her in the right position,” said Carl. “Let’ see.”

Carl was very creative when it came to tying up women so that they were exposed and helpless. In the basement of his house he had constructed many ingenious devices that made it easy. However, it a hotel suite he had to make do with what was available. Of course, he had plenty of soft rope, and some easy-to-apply Velcro straps, but he wanted to do something more original that just tie this new woman to the bed. Surveying the room, his eyes stopped on a comfortable looking desk chair. It had a tall back, wide seat, and four sturdy chrome plated legs with no horizontal braces. He realized that if he turned this chair over so that the legs were in the air, with the top of the back and the front edge of the seat on the floor, it would make a kind of half circle. With a soft cushion over the top of the circle, a woman could be made to lay face down across it, between the legs of the chair. If her legs and back were tied to the chair, her ass would be positioned pointing almost straight up. Carl thought this would do nicely.

The two did not so much tease her as they simply did not hurry. Her orgasm seemed to take forever to get there, but it did, her body shaking in pleasure, rattling the chains holding her to the gate. Hey did not stop, keeping up their assault until she had had two more orgasms. The hands withdrew and she felt the clamps being removed, sending fresh waves of pain through her sensitive nibs and lips. Then a pair of hands reached up and opened the eye pieces to the mask, letting her see her attackers.

Embarrassment rolled over her as she realized she had been had. The woman was the oriental player, Surmi and the man was the black haired player, Robert. She started crying again, as relief flooded her. As they took her down, Robert explained that Master had arranged for the street to be closed this after noon in preparation for her adventure. The harness was left on and her holes filled, along with her mouth. The rest of the toys were collected and all three took the car up to the house.

Charles was there waiting for her. As she got out of the car, he said, “Valerie. That was very good. You showed great trust by confining yourself in public. I’m proud of you. How many orgasms did you have?”

She looked down and held up three fingers.

“Come in. We’ll have lunch and continue your analysis of your submission.”

Lunch was a chef salad, English muffins and jam. Her gag was removed to eat, but the rest of her adventure gear was left on. After lunch, they returned to the lounge and Valerie was again lightly tied to the chair, looking out at the others, except Sally who was not there.

“Let’s pick up where we left off. I sent you away to find out about the lifestyle and myself. How did you proceed.”

Valerie explained her day of internet searching, finding some useful and not so useful information. She told about her trip to the Castle Superstore to buy some self bondage equipment and her fortuitous encounter with Giggy and Rachael. She described how they were willing to meet with her and talk about the lifestyle and give important safety tips with respect to meeting people. She described how they told her that the best way to find out about a player was to gain the trust of the scene and that the best way to do that was to demonstrate her seriousness was to actually play. They suggested she enter the slave auction.

Charles interrupted her at this point. “Tell us why. Why did you want to experiment with self bondage? What was the motivation for selling yourself in the auction?”

“The self bondage was an attempt to recapture those wonderful orgasms. By the time I had talked to Giggy and Rachael, I had come to desire something else. My self bondage was a success because I was able to fantasize about you and Sally taking me and forcing me to please her and denying me orgasms. I realized after that that I wanted to give myself to you, but I didn’t know if you were safe yet. It wasn’t enough to be tied up, I needed to give up, not just be taken. This is in retrospect Master. I don’t think I was conscious of it at the time.”

Surmi interrupted, “I think that we all can agree with that, the first realizations are unconscious.”

Valerie continued. “The auction was really motivated by two things. I wanted to be able to ask about you and have those in the lifestyle trust me enough to answer. Plus, if you weren’t safe, it was a safe venue to give myself. So I went to Mephisto’s and sold myself.”

“How was your experience at the auction?”

“It was unbelievable, Master. The bidding process was so unbelievably humiliating and such a turn on. The auctioneer was so wonderful. I asked her to humiliate me and she did such a wonderful job. For a time, I really felt like I was being sold in a primitive slave market. I would love to do it again, if Master permits it.

“The couple who bought me were wonderfully cruel. They took me and used me forcing me to please them, all without making me feel less than human. They made me feel like I was in the right place, being who I was meant to be, much the way I feel now. I’m glad I was able to please them as much as they made me feel special and used at the same time.

“Afterwards, Rachael had gotten a couple of names that had played with you, one of whom was my best friend, Francine. The rest you know.”

“So Valerie, why are you here, this weekend. Why did you choose to give me and my household your submission?”

“The honest answer is I don’t really know. I feel right here. Giving myself to a dominant is so fulfilling. Letting Francine have me Tuesday was so unbelievable. Our friendship is so much stronger. I find that I trust her with such strength that I would put my life in her hands. When I give in and allow you all to use me as you wish, it fills a place inside me that I didn’t know was there. I don’t think I can turn back now. Life without submission would seem empty. If you were to turn me away after this weekend, I would still be a submissive and I would find a Master to take me, even if the search took years. I need to give myself.”

“Valerie,” the brown haired, Steve, said, “I don’t think that any submissive so new to the lifestyle has ever been so clear about who she really is. You have a precious gift and we all want to nurture it and encourage it to grow.”

Robert added his bit, “Your obedience outside was amazing. No other submissive obeyed every command in the package so well on their second day. You really want to please Charles, don’t you?”

“Yes I do. The though of displeasing him hurts like an open wound. And not just Charles, it’s anyone I submit to. I think that’s why I feel guilty about using my red safe word. When I use it, it feels like I’m letting you down. Francine told me, however, that my dominant needs to be able to trust that I will use it so that he or she can let themselves go fully. Not using it would take away from your pleasure, so I need to be willing to use it.”

“Exactly,” replied Charles, “Early on, I will be holding back some, because I need to be able to judge your ability to determine your limits accurately. That’s part of training a submissive. When I’m sure that you know yourself well enough, then we can together go places that vanilla people can only dream of, if they’re lucky.

“Now, I am going to take you down stairs and engage in some vigorous training. The rest of you have the after noon off. If your other responsibilities allow, return by 8:00 tonight. After dinner, Valerie will be the main course in a little game.”

The others got up and went their separate ways. Charles came over and untied Valerie from the chair and led her by her leash to the lower levels of the house. Taking one of the doors that she had not seen to date, she saw a stainless steel medical examination table, complete with stirrups. Valerie felt herself shiver and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. There were a few additions to the table. Just along the underside of the tabletop were small eye bolts running down the sides and the head. A railing had been mounted along the sides that could be lifted up and down, like those on a gurney. It looked like the table top could be tilted somewhat, though she couldn’t tell how far. There were several drawers installed into the base.

“Valerie, hop up onto the table.”

Valerie approached the table slowly. She ran her hands along the table top, feeling the cool surface. With not a little bit of fear, she climbed up and reclined upon it. Her breathing started to get faster and she shivered uncontrollably. Charles observed her reaction and considered stopping this game. In the end, he chose to continue. He knew Valerie got a thrill on certain levels of fear, and it would be unfortunate if he nipped that in the bud. He proceeded slower than he might have, giving her the time to recognize her own feelings and stop the game herself if necessary.

After lifting the railing, he bent down to open one of the drawers, and pulled out some lengths of bungee cord. Lifting her legs into the stirrups one by one, she use the flexible cords to pull her ankles into the foot brace and then attached the other end to the base of the stirrup. The shorter cords pulled her wrists against the railing and attaching the end to an eye bolt on the underside.

He noted that the fear levels in Valerie were steadily increasing as he proceeded. Valerie felt a panic begin to settle on her with each limb that was restrained. She tried to squelch it, telling herself, “Stupid! You’ve been tied up before. This is just like the other times.” But she didn’t believe herself. She tried to take deep breaths, slowing her breathing, trying to avoid hyperventilation. It was all for naught when she saw Charles start to pull a leather strap across her chest, just under her breasts. Panic hit full force and she struggled wildly, screaming, “Red light! Red light! OH God, please Red light!”

Charles was in a quandary. He stopped attaching the strap immediately, but if he released her during her wild struggles, she could seriously injure herself. Moving quickly to her head, he grasped it firmly, looked right at her and, using his firmest command voice, said, “Valerie, freeze!”

Valerie looked at him, her struggles minimized, crying, “Red light, please red light.”

“Valerie, hold still. If you thrash when I release the bonds, you’ll injure yourself.” She nodded, trembling, but still. He deftly removed the bungee cords from her wrists, lowered the rails and then released her ankles. As soon as she was free, she scrambled of the table and crawled to a far corner, still crying, “Red light, red light.” Softly to herself.

Charles walked over and knelt beside her. “Take my hand, let’s get out of here.”

He took her shivering hand an led her along the wall to the door and out into the hall. The farther they got from the table, the more she calmed. Outside, she was able to stop saying her safe word and simply cry, letting the fear and panic drain from her. He led her to the recovery room, lying her on one of the couches, letting her regain her wits. When he saw that she had lost the overwhelming fear and panic, he asked her, “Can you describe what you felt, why the table caused such fear?”

“Master, as soon as I saw the table, I felt a knot in my stomach. As soon as you started to bind me down, I just knew that something dreadful was going to happen. The less freedom I had, the worse it was going to be. When you started to strap me down, I lost it. I don’t know why, but I just had to get away before death and disaster overtook me.”

“How, in God’s name do you survive a gynecological exam?”

Valerie looked sheepishly, “I don’t. I haven’t been to an OB/GYN in seven years.”

“That will not do. I require my subs to keep themselves in good health. We will have to make an appointment for you. A lot of the subs use Dr. Waston. She is a sub herself and can actually be told that the standard table will provoke a safe word reaction. She will find a way to examine you without it.

“Now, if you feel up to continuing, I have several things I want to do with you yet.”

“Yes Master. I’m looking forward to them, I hope.”

Charles led her to the dungeon again and to a normal table with several ropes on pulleys hanging above it. It had a padded leather top, six feet long and three feet across. He slapped the top, indicating that she should get on and lie down. While she waited, he retrieved several items from the instrument shelves and set them on the floor. The first thing he did to Valerie was to take a four foot long bar and clip her ankle cuffs to the ends, spreading her legs far apart. She could feel strain on her hips, though not painful yet.

Next, each of her arms were encased in a stiff set of gloves. The fingers of the gloves were rigid, preventing any motion. The sleeves came up a full two inches above her elbows. They zipped up on the outside and had a string of eyelets like shoes had on the inside. These he used to lace the gloves together, forcing her arms to almost touch from wrist to elbow. The loose ends of the string at her wrists were used to tie her hands to the bar between her legs. The result was Valerie’s legs sticking straight up and out and her back bent slightly by the pressure of her arms being pulled forward.

A rope was dropped down and attached to the bar, then relifted. The result was that she actually had to strain less to hold position, as she cold let the rope above her do the work of holding her up. Next, Charles fitted a full head hood over her head. His one had no opening for a gag, just a mesh in front of her mouth instead. “Say something. I need to make sure I can hear a safe word if you use it.” Smiling, Val said, “Green light.”

Chuckling, Charles commented, “So, you figured that on out on your own. Good girl. If you need to use a safe word, be sure to shout, your volume is a little muffled.”

Charles stepped back and watched Valerie struggle in her bondage. “It doesn’t matter how much they love being bound, once they are, they struggle, looking for a way out, or maybe to make sure they can’t get out.” He thought to himself. He let her stew for ten minutes, admiring the way she became more and more aroused. Except for the slight rattle of metal on metal and Valerie’s own moans, all was quiet.

After the ten minutes, he walked back over and let her hear that he was nearby. Still he left her alone, waiting. Five minutes later, he heard what he had been listening for. “Master, please touch me, any touch please.” He let her beg for a couple of more minutes and then picked up a crop and swung it against her ass. The yelp she gave was rewarding and the loud moan of desire was telling. He struck her again. She jerked with a yelp, setting the bar rocking back and forth. Then he stopped and waited again.

Valerie was feeling intense frustration. She had not expected to be bound and then ignored. She was becoming aroused, very much so and desperate for touch of any kind. Unable to take it any more, she called out and begged for any touch. Her reward was two blows from some kind of thin whip of some sort on her ass. The pain caused her to cry out, but she moaned in pleasure at the touch, her body reveling in sweet sensations, albeit painfully sweet ones. When he stopped after just two, she went wild with desire. Her struggles intensified, desperately trying, not to escape, but to feel something.

Again, she begged, “Master please don’t stop. I need touch, any touch, lots of touch. Please do something to me.”

Her pleas were answered as Charles brought the crop down on her pussy. She felt the fire between her legs, screaming at the pain on her sensitive folds of flesh. Again and again, at a maddeningly slow pace, he brought the crop down against some new part of her body. The thigh this time, her belly the next, then a tit. He walked around her laying blows all over her body, observing the places that provoked the strongest reactions. He noted with curiosity that in addition to the expected sensitive areas, her breasts, pussy and the soles of her feet, her arm pits and behind her knees seemed especially sensitive. He also thought he detected a trace of laughter mixed in at those locations. “This had possibilities.” He thought to himself.

After 15 minutes of scattering blows with the crop to all the exposed parts of her body, he gently laid the crop against her pussy and slowly stroked it back and forth. She reacted with enthusiasm, trying to hump the crop. When she did, he pulled it away. He laid it back after 30 seconds and started again. She humped and had it removed. It took her four tries before she brought herself under control and let the crop have its way with her at Master’s own pace. He brought her to the edge of orgasm and then quickly swatted her clit directly.

Valerie howled in pain and orgasm together. Her body shuddered and shook, waves of pain flowed out from her cunt, leaving the fire in her clit behind, only to generate another wave of pleasure, like the ripples in a pond when a rock hits it. She had never had an orgasm that lasted so long, the throbbing in her clit seemingly prolonging her pleasure immensely. More intense ones, yes, but not as long on a single climax.

As she descended from her peak, the orgasm fading, she realized that she was devoid of touch again and cold not hear her Master. She waited, struggling occasionally in the bindings. When ten minutes had passed, she called out again, “Master, may I have more? Please touch me again.”

She heard rustling below, Master getting something that he had brought over. Then she felt something penetrate her pussy. The hard, phallic shaped object began to buzz and twist inside her, driving her arousal up again. As she was settling into the pleasure of the vibrator, Charles started anew with the crop. This time every blow landed on her pussy. The little bursts of fire, melded with the pulses of pleasure emanating from the vibrator, throwing her into a frenzy.

“Oh God, It’s so much. I can’t take it. Please make it stop. It’s too much. Please Master, make it stop.”

While she pleaded for mercy from the sensation overload she secretly hoped that he would keep it up. Her cries were a kind of release, letting her actually take the sensations and make them a part of her. She knew that this orgasm was going to be a big one and she wanted every last drop of it. For his part, Charles had seen this before. By begging for it to stop, the sub actually enabled herself to take more and more sensation. The reasons this worked, psychologically, varied from sub to sub. And not every sub was this way. Many he had in his service were. He wondered idly if she realized how lightly he was actually hitting her. None of these blows would even leave a mark. In fact, she might not find them painful at all in other circumstances.

Valerie struggled wildly, rocking back and forth, making Charles work at keeping the swats on target. When she hit the tipping point, her whole body froze for an instant. Then a wail escaped from Val’s mouth and her body shook in the throes of a massive orgasm. Her body shook over and over again, unaware that Charles had stopped the crop and removed the vibrator. This orgasm seemed to last forever in her mind, though it was actually shorter than the earlier one. As she came down, she was aware of a sharp pain in her left shoulder.

“Yellow light.” She said.

“What is it?”

“I think I pulled something in my shoulder.”

Charles unzipped the gloves, releasing her arms and getting a cry of pain as she leaned back onto the table. “Don’t move your shoulder. We need to see how bad it is.” He went over to an intercom and said, “Herman?”

“Yes master Charles?”

“Could you send Victor down here. We have a possible injury.”

“Right away sir.”

While they waited, Charles remove the rest of the restraints, allowing her to lay comfortably.

“Master, why is this pain different. It doesn’t actually hurt as much as a whipping, but I don’t feel able to ‘take it’ if you know what I mean.”

“Yes I do. I think there might be more than one type of pain. Think of a long distance runner. He gets a stitch in his side and is able to run through the pain. But if he twists his ankle, it is entirely different, stopping him in his tracks. It may be that the whippings are like the stitch. It hurts, but you can submit past and through that pain, even use it as a motivation.”

“I’ve never thought about that. I did read somewhere that the actual sensations of orgasm were more like pain than like other pleasurable feelings.”

A short man in denim, walked up. “So Charles, what did we do this time.” The smile on his face belied the stern tone of his voice.

“She was in a partially suspended forward hogtie, using a spreader and binding gloves. She had an orgasm and noticed a pain in her shoulder after coming down.”

Tags: Fetish, Story