The Armoire

The Hurdles (The Armoire - Chapter 2)

- by Sam Darquesied

Gazing at the people strolling by my window I can’t help but wonder what their lives are like—especially the women. Have they ever experienced five heart stopping orgasms in one day? When their bottoms touch a seat do the memories that instantly materialize cause them to secretly smile? Stupid really: to wonder about other people’s lives when my own has more than enough to ponder. I find myself smiling and again look down at the letter.

I’m not afraid to open it, but every time I glance at the name I am transported back to that weekend three months ago. The visit to Darquesied’s ranch; the “attack”; the bondage; the whipping; the orgasms; the wonderful shower. At the beginning I thought I was going to die. At the end I felt I had never really lived. In the span of less than a day I had run the emotional gamut from uncontrollable fear to unbridled pleasure and even now, retrospect brings arousal. I am thoroughly convinced that, on that Saturday, the moment I decided not to drive away, my life changed forever.

Sliding my hand beneath my panties, I reminisce…

When I went back to the house that afternoon Sam had already prepared a simple pasta and sauce lunch which I attacked with the gusto of a three hundred pound linebacker. It was clear that a couple of hours under Darquesied’s “guidance” really worked up an appetite. We talked of many things. I had asked what he meant by “role playing” when he mentioned it earlier in the day. He said it varied for different people but most often it was “perfect slave”.

We laughed again over his name and how and why he came up with the anagram.

We talked more of Kristel and how she had duped us both; me thinking I would be looking at a fine hand-crafted armoire and Sam thinking that I was here to voluntarily experience a “session”.

The subject of Kristel took a strange turn when I showed Sam a picture of her and me at a gallery opening. His jaw dropped and he exclaimed; “Son of a bitch! That’s Mardi Dimanche. She’s a client! Actually… that explains a lot now.”

He went on to explain that he didn’t really enjoy his times with “Mardi”. Her sessions were very intense; geared toward pain rather than orgasm and, where most women would be screaming STOP PLEASE STOP, she would curse and swear like a sailor. Yep, that was definitely Kristel.

At that point we still hadn’t decided what to do about her, so the conversation moved to my session. He asked if I wanted to continue now that I knew the rules and, through a mouthful of pasta, I instantly answered that I would—a little embarrassed by my all too apparent eagerness.

Knowing the rules made all the difference, changing the experience from one of fear and despair to one of pleasure and anticipation. The “out” word, “Philadelphia”, when uttered in any way whatsoever, caused everything to stop. If a gag was present it was immediately removed so one could explain why the brakes had been applied. It could be a minor thing like a little discomfort with one of the binds or a cramp or it could be more serious. Maybe the set was a little too intense, the pain a bit more than one could bear. Regardless, it was engraved in stone; “Philadelphia” meant STOP.

There were a couple of other benefits to the out word. First; it was a word that Sam could easily make out through any kind of gag, whether whispered or screamed. Secondly; it allows the victim (Sam prefers “client”) to scream stuff like “STOP, PLEASE STOP!” without the set actually halting. This lets her suspend reality for a time and experience the activity fantasizing that she was really under duress.

It still strikes me as ironic that, if I had known what “Philadelphia” meant, I would have stopped the session before it began and never realized what I was missing. And… I sure as hell wouldn’t have been “branded”!

The word that I wish I had figured out though, was “Chicago”. I’m an idiot really because Sam had said, after an intense orgasm, “Don’t forget Chicago. It’s better if I know.” It seems so obvious now that the word is a signal to him that an orgasm is commencing. It gives him the chance to do things to intensify the event from its outset. It was hard to envision that particular climax as being any more exquisite but, as I found out later, he can prolong the gush by as much as a factor of two. Bless this man.

After lunch I had a refreshing little nap in my room. The accommodation was quite nice and well appointed with a large bed and a down filled comforter. When I awoke I took a shower and then we continued my session in the studio. No fake kidnapping scenario this time, just a couple of sets with interesting binds, the last of which resulted in yet another stupefying orgasm. The most memorable time for me however; came after supper.

We had retired, with a couple of after dinner drinks, to the front porch and admired the evening sunset, Rather than wear the robe to supper I thought it more appropriate to put my clothes back on although they felt oddly restrictive. I realized I would have liked to stay in the robe. In fact I would just as soon have been naked. It occurred to me that this spoke of the trust I had developed for this Sam Darquesied fellow. It was not that I thought I could trust him; I knew I could trust him. Almost perfect serenity is the only way I can describe the feeling that accompanies this kind of entrustment. The worries of the outside world just slide off, unable to stick to this shield of faith. It’s like jumping off a building in complete confidence that Superman will catch you before you hit the ground.

I had also developed an almost overwhelming desire to please him. For the entire day he had worked very hard to bring me the most pleasurable time of my life. He took me to unimaginable highs then to the most delectable tranquilities—all without asking anything in return. I knew he had received a substantial amount of money for the session but, still, it didn’t seem fair. I really wanted to correct this imbalance somehow.

It was a lovely evening and we just sat quietly for a time until I broke the silence and asked about “perfect slave”.

Sam responded; “Well, it depends on the client’s… that is… your desires of course but essentially it is you becoming a complete submissive within the boundaries of any parameters that we may set beforehand.”

“How long does it last?” I asked.

“Again it differs for everybody but for most it’s an hour or two. Longer for some and, for a couple, it’s the whole session.”

Sam, noting my obvious curiosity, continued; “The most popular and relatively short scenario is that I send you to your room to undress with the understanding that, when you return, you will be completely obedient to me and that any failure will result in punishment. And, normally, there is some sort of end goal.”

“End goal?”

He elaborated; “I would instruct you to think up something that you will ostensibly refuse to do. It can be simple like ‘I will not say the word banana’ or it can be more intimate. As always, it’s restricted by any parameters that you may have set before we start. But, the ultimate goal is to force you to relent and do, say, or submit to whatever you said you wouldn’t.”

Then he asked; “If you would you like to try it then we should set the restrictions now.”

Suddenly this changed from idle conversation to impending reality and I immediately felt excitement and… I am such a slut… arousal!

“I can’t think of any restrictions off hand. I… I have no experience so I don’t know how much I can take…”

Sam stopped me right there; “Sylvia, you may have the wrong idea. I know this is all fairly new for you but you have to see that it’s not a matter of how much you can take. There is no score card here. What I try to do is to take you to the edge—your edge. Not just the edge of pain tolerance; in fact, it’s not about pain at all.”

I could see that he felt it very important that I truly understand all this. He continued; “Most people, men and women alike, think of pain as the opposite of rapture. As you have recently discovered; that isn’t necessarily the case. If all you wanted was to hurt yourself you could just go and bang your head against a wall. But, when you are bound in a manner in which you are immobile and experience pain in degrees—pain that does not cause injury—then it is like… a cable car.”

“Yes… a cable car. Pain is your cable car; a cable car that collects your sense of pleasure and slowly transports it up the mountain. It is unimportant how high the mountain is for everybody else—the only thing that matters is… how high it is for you. The higher we go; the more your pleasure is magnified. The summit of your mountain is, of course, ecstasy. And; even the ride back down will be euphoric.”

Sam looked straight at me and said; “Do you understand what I’m trying to say Sylvia?”

“Yes; I think so Sam.”

I went on; “Sam, it’s obvious that you are very experienced and awesomely good at what you do here. I trust you… I trust you unequivocally. I have no experience really and I don’t know ‘how high my mountain is’ but I absolutely know that you will know it when you see it. I really want to do this… I really want to do this with you. So… can we just use the out word?”

Sam answered; “Yes of course. ‘Philadelphia’ always applies.”

After a fairly long moment of silence he asked; “Would you like to start now?”

Sheepishly I whispered; “Yes.”

Darquesied’s tone changed to one of command as he said; “Very well then. Please put your drink down and stand, facing me.”

I complied and he continued; “From now on you will address me as ‘My Master’. You will always look down to the floor, never looking me in the eye unless instructed to do so. Any mistakes or failure to obey will result in increased punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I respond.

Sternly Sam asks; “Yes what?”

“Yes, I underst… er… yes, My Master.”

Sounding like a teacher admonishing his student; “It is mistakes like that which will not be tolerated. It is important that you completely appreciate this. Now; do you understand?”

“Yes, My Master.”

He continued; “When I tell you to, you will go upstairs to your room and disrobe. You will fold your clothes neatly and place them on the chair. You will see leather bracelets and anklets hanging on the bedpost which you will put on so that they are comfortable but secure. You will then check yourself in the mirror to ensure that you are presentable. Then you will look in the top drawer of the bureau and choose one of the punishment devices it contains. During this time you will be thinking up something that you will refuse to do. You will then return and kneel in front of me with your eyes down and your arms extended offering me the device you chose. Remember, any errors result in more severe punishment. Is all of this perfectly clear?”

“Yes, My Master.”

Sam commanded; “Then go now and do not take too long.”

I turned and went inside and, when out of sight, I rushed up the stairs. I undressed quickly but then took my time folding my clothes realizing that there might be an inspection. And, of course, failure would result in more punishment so… I mussed them up a bit. I put on the bracelets and anklets so that they were quite tight but not uncomfortable. I was SO excited!

In my eagerness to look in the bureau drawer I almost forgot to check myself in the mirror. I fixed my hair a bit then took stock of my reflected nakedness. I smiled at how nice I looked with the leather around my wrist and ankles. I was glad to see my nipples hard and erect, hoping this would please “My Master”. Looking down at my bikini cut pubic hair I wondered if Sam would like it better if I was completely smooth. I regretted that I didn’t have the time to shave.

I then went to the bureau and slid the drawer open. Neatly arranged were several floggers and some other devices. I examined a rather vicious looking, two-tailed leather tawse but I put it back and thought; “Some day, maybe.” Instead I chose the horse hair flogger that I had experienced earlier in the day. One last check in the mirror then a deep breath and I turned and went downstairs. My heart was already pounding.

As instructed I knelt in front of Sam with my eyes to the floor, my arms extended offering him the flogger. He took the whip from my hands then instructed me to sit back on my heels with my arms down by my side. I could feel him looking me over and was glad my nipples were still erect. Not only were they hard but they also tingled. I never before in my life thought I could be so excited by this kind of thing.

My musing was interrupted by Sam asking; “Do you have something to tell me?”

I wanted to tell him what I was feeling. That I was already aflame with anticipation and that he could do anything to me that he wanted. He could have me any way he wanted. But I knew what he was asking and I knew what I was going to say from the moment he mentioned it earlier.

“I will not allow you to have intercourse with me My Master.”

He paused for a moment then asked; “Are you sure that is the end goal you want?”

“Absolutely sure My Master.”

Sam continued; “Your only desire now is to please me as much as you can… is that correct?”

“Oh yes My Master.”

“I would very much enjoy making love to you but you would deny me that pleasure. Do you realize that my only choice now is to punish you until you relent?”

“Yes My Master.”

Darquesied reaches for my chin and gently moves my head up and directly to my left. Suddenly, while still seated, he smacks my breasts hard with the flogger, alternating one then the other maybe eight times or so. The first one made me jerk and gasp but I steeled myself and took the rest with little movement except for wincing. He then stopped and asked; “What do you say now?”

My breasts were on fire and, still wincing, I replied; “Uh… thank you My Master?”

“Good answer; but do you know why I just whipped you?”

I wasn’t sure but I answered; “To make me relent My Master?”

“That is incorrect!” he said sternly and immediately started to whip again, as hard as before only this time he kept the flogger further back so that it struck just the areola and nipples.

“Ow… oww… owwww…”; The pain was unexpectedly severe and, try as I might, I could not keep from cringing, trying to pull away from the blows as best I could.

Again he asks; “Do you know why you are being punished?”

I was crying a bit now; “No My Master. I’m sorry but I don’t know why.”

“I am very disappointed in you my little slave. You say that your only desire is to please me yet you bring me the softest device in the drawer. Now I have to work much harder to reach the end goal. A truly cruel master would punish you all night for that mistake alone and you would deserve every lash wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, My Master. I’m very sorry.” I braced myself for more but instead he abruptly told me to stand and follow him inside to the living room. As I walked I could easily feel the moisture between my legs and my heart was pounding even harder.

In the middle of the floor was a small frame, about three feet high and four feet wide, which I immediately realized was made of two track hurdles fastened together face to face. The top rails were padded and there were rings at each corner with short black bungee cords attached. Darquesied motioned for me to bend over the frame resting my tummy on the padded rail. Standing at my head, he pulled my left arm down and attached the bungee to the bracelet then the same for my right arm. This caused my feet to leave the floor. He moved behind me and fastened my anklets in the same fashion. He had to pull quite hard to get the last one attached which tightened all the others. While the bungees provide a little bit of give, for the most part I was stretched quite inflexibly, bent over the bar and spread-eagled.

I was expecting a ball gag but received none. Instead, I saw Darquesied go to a cupboard and return with a large sliver hook with a loop at one end and a smooth, rounded tip at the other. It was about a foot long and looked like a giant fish hook but, thankfully, it was not barbed. I saw him rubbing a lubricant on the end as he went behind me.

My eyes widened and I gasped quite audibly as he slowly slid the smooth end of the hook into my anus. I have never before had anything in my ass that wasn’t supposed to be there and the sensation was very strange but… my excitement level was increasing rapidly.

Sam again went to the cupboard, returning with a short length of rope. He grabbed my long hair and twisted it then fastened one end of the rope to the makeshift pony tail. He slid the other end through the loop in the silver hook and slowly tugged on the rope pulling my head up and back; almost as far as my neck muscles would allow. He then tied off the rope making it almost impossible to move my head. I could feel the hook dig into my rectum with even the slightest movement.

Now Sam spoke; “I have chosen to forego a gag this time but I expect you to avoid crying out to the best of your ability. Is that clear?”

The tightness of the restraints and my head pulled back like it was caused me to breath heavily, as though I was exercising, but with a little difficulty I answered; “Yes My Master.”

He continued; “I am going to start with one hundred lashes and it is up to you to keep track. Once in a while I will ask if you relent. If you do then you will indicate so in a clear and respectful manner. It is possible that I may have lost interest so you may have to beg. Is all of this clear to you?”

“Yes My Master.”

Immediately he started the whipping, very hard, on my butt. Sometimes staying on one cheek for several blows; sometimes alternating. I forced myself to keep from crying out. Just some “Ohs” and Uhs” were choking their way out with my short hard breaths. The pain was severe and I could not stop causing the hook to dig inside my ass. Everything got so intense so fast. The pain was relentless, both from the whip and the hook. I could feel and hear my heart pounding hard and rapidly and my breathing became frighteningly laboured.

“I don’t hear you counting my little slave.”

Shit! I forgot to count. How can he expect me to count when I can hardly breathe?

Darquesied stated flatly; “We’ll have to start again.”

Immediately the whipping continued; this time on the inside of my thighs just below my butt. He had changed the direction, whipping in an upward stroke, but the pain was no less severe. This time I counted out the strokes; which made my breathing even more difficult. Each stroke caused me to involuntarily jerk my head which in turn dug that hateful hook into my ass. It seemed to draw the pain from the whip up to my abdomen and mix with that in my rectum. He stopped at twenty lashes.

“Do you relent now my little slave?”

The pain was excruciating and the discomfort of the restraints, as well as that damn hook, was almost unbearable but I was determined to show Sam that I could take this. To stop now would make me… unworthy. So, with all the defiance I could muster I gasped out; “No, My Master, I do not relent.”

I could hear him winding up the flogger behind me then, with all his strength, he landed one unbelievably hard upward blow right square on my outstretched vagina. It felt like I had been kicked in the crotch by a mule. My mind went blank. The pain was the size of a bowling ball and it rolled like a nuclear explosion up the inside of my abdomen and exited my mouth; “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh… MOTHER FU…”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT!” he admonished.

The pain subsided a bit and I forced myself to regain a semblance of composure. My breathing was very short, hard, and rapid but somehow I was able to get the words out; “I’m sorry My Master. I meant no disrespect.”

Then I managed something that I take great pride in, even today. I panted; “Twenty one.”

I couldn’t see his face, still I knew he was proud of me but it wasn’t over yet. He moved to my side, bent down a bit, and began a series of downward lashes to the side of my breast. I was crying now which only added to my breathing difficulties but I still managed to count.

“Twenty five; twenty six…” He stopped at thirty and got up to move to the other side.

The short reprieve gave my brain a chance to send out feelers to check on various body parts. Everything was either numb or on fire. No real surprise there but, when it checked in with my vaginal area we were both astounded to find the juices flowing and the arousal still building—like it had a mind of its own. The searing touch of the flogger on the side of my other boob brought me back into focus.

Darquesied was kneeling at my right side whipping rapidly just as hard as before; “Thirty nine; forty…” He stopped but only long enough to lay down under me a bit then immediately started more strong downward strokes to the top of my left breast. He was in a fairly awkward position but still managed to put a lot of mustard on the blows. I wanted to take breaths between the lashes but he was going so fast the best I could do was short wet gasps through my wincing teeth; “Forty nine; fifty…” Then back to my right breast; “Fifty nine; sixty…” When he stopped this time I was immediately aware of the pain in my rectum from that fearsome hook. I was cringing and wincing so much I couldn’t help but move my head, sometimes quite violently. I could only hope that I wasn’t doing any permanent damage back there.

It was inconceivable to me that my breasts were capable of hurting any more than they did. It felt like they were completely immersed in a bucket of flesh eating insects. Then the whipping started again.

Sam had reposition again and was gripping the flogger in such a way that the lashes were only striking my nipple and areola. Somehow, even from his prone position, he managed to make the blows hard and rapid; “Sixty five; sixty six…” Each hit caused hot searing pangs to ripple out across my entire body; “Sixty nine; seventy…” Switch to the other breast; “Seventy one; seventy two…” I knew I would pass out soon but I was still able to manage to count weakly with what little breath I had left; “Seventy nine; eighty…”

I had no choice now. I had nothing left; “PHILA…” But the whipping had ceased.

“Did you say something?” queried Sam.

I needed a few seconds to get some air in my lungs and all the while my mind was screaming; “PHILADELPHIA… this must stop NOW! You’ve taken eighty hard, hard lashes. Surely that is enough. It doesn’t matter whether this man is proud of you or not!” But it did matter.

Again he asked; “Did you say something?”

“No My Master, I didn’t say anything.”

As I heard the words leave my mouth I realized that I was crying like an infant—actually sobbing.

With some concern Sam pressed; “Are you sure?”

“Yes, My Master.”

“Do you relent now?”

Twenty more. That’s all I had to take. Twenty more. Even to this day I’m not sure why but I had to try and make it through to one hundred; “No My Master, I do not relent.”

Darquesied was standing in front of me now and I could see that he was sweating quite a bit and breathing fairly heavy. It was strangely gratifying to know that I wasn’t making this easy.

He moved behind me and detached the rope from the hook. He slowly and carefully pulled it from my rectum. The relief of its removal washed over me and I let out a loud long sigh; “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” It was almost as good as an orgasm. Actually, at that moment, it seemed even better. My head was free to move as well and, while my neck was pretty stiff, it felt mighty good.

Sam rubbed his hands gently over my butt and it felt quite pleasant despite my still stinging cheeks. He then moved his hand down between my legs and softly stroked my labia. They were still extremely sore from that single blow but his touch was very, very nice. I could feel that I was quite wet down there and my arousal was still with me. On a scale of one to ten it was about a seven and holding, neither waning nor building. Sam moved in front of me and showed me his hand. I felt myself blush a bit when I saw that it was soaked.

“Interesting.” He said with a little grin.

Sam walked back behind me, pulled something forward and placed them beneath me. My newfound neck movement allowed me to see that they were two long wires attached to fairly heavy looking metal clips. I shuddered a bit as it occurred to me where those clips would end up. He then pulled three more wires from behind and hung them over the frame’s top rail. These wires ended in round black patches.

Sam spoke; “Twenty more to go. Can you take it, or do you want to relent now?”

I had regained some strength and, in my best “screw you” voice I answered; “No My Master, I DO NOT relent.”

Darquesied used his left hand to spread my butt cheeks then I felt the bite of the first lash as it hit squarely on my anus. Not as fast or as hard as before but still a pretty decent sting. “Eighty one; eighty two…” This was a new kind of pain, in an area where I had never really felt pain before but, through gritted teeth I kept counting; “Eighty three; eighty four…” He stopped there and immediately stuck one of the wired patches directly on my butt hole. There was some kind of sticky goop on it which held it in place. He then resumed the flogging but had moved to my inner thigh very near my vagina. “Eighty five; eighty six; eighty seven…” Again he stopped and stuck another patch to my freshly chastised thigh. He repeated this on the other thigh when the count hit ninety. Now he moved to my right side.

He lay down and positioned himself in the spot where he was able to flog my nipples. My boobs were extremely sensitive from the previous whipping and I couldn’t stop myself from looking him in the eyes. I didn’t speak but I was hoping my eyes said; “Please, no more.” Then I realized my mistake and quickly looked away. I began to cry a bit thinking that, if he noticed, the count would surely be increased and I just wouldn’t be able to take it.

Although relieved, I actually cried a little harder when he said; “Because you’ve done so well thus far I’m going to let that one slide but please be more careful from here on in.”

Through my tears I answered; “Yes My Master. Thank you.” I realized that he was making concessions in deference to me—probably because it was my first time. I wondered if he would be this nice to Kristel if she were in my place. I hoped not.

“Ninety one; Ninety two; Ninety three; Ninety four; Ninety five” I was sobbing loud and uncontrollably and I was screaming “OWWWWWW…” but I managed to spit the count out in mid scream. The five lashes were fast and all centered on the right areola and nipple. Hot electric pain radiated through my breast and chest and I cringed hard, anticipating the pain of more blows to the other breast. Instead he attached one of the metal clips to my freshly whipped nipple.

“OWWWWWWWW… PLEASE NO! SAM… PLEASE!!!” I was screaming louder than I ever have. The moment the clip latched on to my hypersensitive nipple my body convulsed against the pain—a pain that instantly spread to every square inch of me. It was too much.

“PHILADELPHIA!!!” The word emanating from my mouth actually surprised me.

Immediately Sam removed the metal clip from my nipple. The relief was like someone had removed a truck that had been parked on my chest but… there was something wrong.

I felt bad, even a little sick. Not from the hurt but… because I had stopped. I was still sobbing and waves of pain still moved up and down my body but all that was suddenly overshadowed by this feeling of shame. I was ashamed of my weakness. My inability to finish this… for him! What had I done? There was only five more to go… and those freaking clips but if I could just get past that…

“You were amazing. Don’t feel bad that you stopped. You took a hell of a lot.” Sam’s voice filtered into my brain and brought with it an instant sense of reassurance and safety. He wiped my face with a soft terry towel then wiped the floor to mop up a substantial pool of saliva that had accumulated. He reached back and wiped the floor under the crossbar and a wave of embarrassment caused me to shiver with the realization that I had peed a little.

Darquesied made no mention of it as he spoke; “Try to relax while I remove the patches. Then I’ll release the bungees as gently as I can.”

He got up and started to move behind me.

“No… wait!” I said between my waning sobs.

Sam asked; “What?”

“Please Sam. Just give me a minute or two.”

He came back and knelt beside me; “Listen. You did really well. This is not a competition. There is nothing to prove, nor anybody to impress—especially me. You must believe me when I tell you that I am already greatly impressed. Remember; this is, and always has been, about you, nobody else.”

I was still crying a little but now it was more a “cry for happy”—a reaction to his gentle voice and reassurance. It was heartening to know that with him, not matter what, I am ultimately in control. I appreciated what he was saying but still I felt I had let him down. It felt like I had been two feet away from the summit of Mt. Everest then suddenly turned away and climbed back down. And, amazingly, I was still very aroused!

“Please Sam… I don’t want to stop. Let me finish this.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yes My Master I am sure.”

Sam responded; “Well, okay. Maybe it’s best if we forego the clips. They were actually for something after but I’ll come up with something…”

“No… the clips too.” I interrupted; and, feeling the need to make up for stopping, I bit my lip and added; “You’ll have to start back at ninety one My Master”

There was a shot pause then, in an obvious attempt to get back into the scenario, he said; “You had better re-word that request my little slave.”

With an understanding little grin I restated; “My Master, I beg of you to start back at ninety one.”

He got down on the floor and positioned himself under me as before. We looked into each others eyes; he nodded and I knew that we were ignoring that rule now. I closed my eyes and he began.

“Ninety one; Ninety two; Ninety three; Ninety four; Ninety five” The pain immediately ramped back up to the previous level. Again I screamed “OWWWWWW…” Again the lashes were fast and centered on areola and nipple. Again the searing pain radiated through my breast and chest. And again the metal clip was attached to my re-whipped nipple.

With no hesitation he moved to the other breast…

“Ninety six.” I sobbed harder.

“Ninety seven.” Oh GAWD it hurt so much.

“Ninety eight…ow… Oww… OWWW!” I can do this. I can do this!

“Ninety nine… Oh GAWD… OH GAWD…” One more…ONE MORE!

“One hundred… OHHHHHhhhhh…” Then the other clip was applied.

My body instinctively took in a long, hard, huge breath then; “AHHHHHHHHHH…” The scream was from the depths of my gut and used all the air that I had. Then I started spouting gibberish between short gasps; “OH GAWD…” Gasp; “HELP ME… HELP ME…” Gasp; “PLEASE… PLEASE…” The pain level kept going up and down as my body tried to fight it. Even if it could subside a tiny bit it would be a huge relief.

Sam was kneeling in front of me now and he reached back and took the pony tail in his hand. He gently pulled my head back and wiped my face with a new towel.

“Right now, at this moment, there is no one on this planet that is more beautiful than you, my sweet little slave.” Then he kissed me.

It was on the mouth; soft and deep. He ignored my panting and drooling as his tongue caressed mine like a soothing massage. He pulled back a little and, with his mouth still touching mine, used his tongue to caress my lips. Although short it was the sweetest most romantic kiss I had ever experience. I sincerely wished that I could breathe normally and return the favour but I just couldn’t.  For those few moments however; I completely forgot about the pain.

When he pulled away the agony returned. Not abruptly; more like someone was slowly turning up the volume. In most parts of my body the pain was subsiding some, but not my breast and nipples. They were throbbing in torment and I winced and cringed with each ebb and flow. Clearly it was not going to subside but at least I could cope with it now—barely.

Darquesied came back and again used my hair to pull my head up. In his hand was a type of gag. It was a black hard rubber tube about four inches long and maybe an inch round with a strap at each end. It looked a little like a horse bit.

He again asked; “Do you relent now?”

I looked him straight in the eye and forced myself to stop wincing. “No My Master, I do not relent.”

“Then open your mouth please.”

I looked at him incredulously. After all the screaming that I had done so far, why would he bother to gag me now?

Noting my quizzical gaze he said; “Oh, it’s not for the noise.” And he slipped it between my teeth and fastened the straps behind my head.

“I’m going to test something now so brace yourself.”

I was expecting some more flogger activity but instead he pushed a button on a small device he had in his hand…

The current raced through my body from the patches to the metal clips. It didn’t hurt that much but it caused every muscle in me to tightly contract. I bit down incredibly hard on the rubber bit. I surely would have bitten my tongue clean off if it wasn’t in place. I could only breath in short gasps—like a fighter pilot when he pulls high g-forces. Then he released the button. “AHHHHHHhhhhhhhh…”

With an air of satisfaction Sam said; “Well, good. That seems to work okay. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time… Do you relent?”

At this stage I felt newly empowered so; “No My Master, I DO NOT relent.”

Impressed, Sam said; “Very well then. I will not ask again. If and when you relent you will have to speak up of your own accord. Oh, and by the way… you will relent my sweet little slave.”

With a defiant grin I thought to myself; “Not ‘til I’m good and ready buster!”

He walked to the cupboard and returned with something but he held it out of sight. He went behind me and I expected either more flogging or the current so I instinctively braced… but nothing happened. I hung my head down so I could see back between my legs and saw that he had undressed. Cocky bastard! I just took one hundred hard painful lashes, not to mention the clips and the current. If he thinks he can do anything to me that will make me relent any time soon, he’s got another thing coming. I looked back again and noticed that he was holding a long, narrow, pointed feather in each hand. “Oh shit.” I said out loud.

When the feather touched under my toes I took a breath and held it; cheeks puffed like I was blowing up a balloon. He started rapidly twirling the tip of the feather under the toes then moved slowly to the ball of my foot then down to the sole. I began to hum through my gritted teeth, trying not to laugh. Then he did the same to my other foot; then both feet at the same time. I took a hard breath in and hummed louder and the pitch went up a couple of octaves. He stopped; waited a moment; then started the little swirls on the back of both knees. My teeth still clenched, I drew another hard breath and began to hum but the laughter broke through; “STOP… STOP… STOP…” I was screaming and laughing hard at the same time.

Expertly he moved the feather tips slowly up the back of my legs, all the while maintaining the swirling motion. I was shaking my head maniacally and my chest was beginning to hurt from my ferocious laughter. When he reached the top of my legs he moved the swirling feather tips laterally along the bottom of my butt then slowly up the inside of my cheeks. I was laughing so hard now that I was getting extremely light headed. I was shaking in my restraints but they held me so immobile that it was more like vibrating. I am very ticklish anyway but the inability to move away—even a little bit—made it so much worse. The feather tips twirled at the top of my butt then down to the side of my hips. Then he stopped.

I was panting heavily, in and out, like I had just run the Boston marathon. Darquesied was standing beside me now and as I glanced over I could see that his soldier was standing at attention—ready for duty. It was actually my first chance to “check him out”. He was not huge but not small either; a nice size really—and circumcised which was for me a personal preference. His erection was straight and true—ready to give his all when called upon. I looked forward to our impending meeting.

The whirling feather tips started again and my laughing with it. He was moving ever so slowly from the side of my hips to my haunches. “NONONO… PLEASE… PLEEEEEASE…” Then the perpetual twirling tips moved up to the side of my ribs. This area ranked second only to my armpits as the most ticklish spot on my body. “AHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE…” My chest was heaving hard trying to catch air through my unstoppable howling.

The ever swirling tips glided up higher then Sam began moving the feathers in circles around the edges of my armpits then into the centre. “OHGAWDSTOP… PLEASE… PLEASE…” I actually kind of meant it now. I could feel my face was hot and flushed. I was reaching my breaking point… but then he stopped.

I panted hard like I had just done a second marathon. I knew he wasn’t done and I wanted to hang on longer but I didn’t have much left. When I felt the feather touch between my legs I new this was to be a short respite.

Sam had move back behind me and was touching the feather just barely to my labia. Even this light contact caused me to jolt and instantly recalled my arousal out of hiding. He began to twirl again and moved the feather tip up one side of my lips and down the other. My body jolted relentlessly and my excitement level took a noticeable upswing. Sam spread my lips apart and the feather tip twirled up the inside then down again. I was screaming again; “AHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE…” He then moved the tip to my clit then down to my hole. The sensation was both terrible and wonderful at the same time. I was trying to hump—I just had to have something inside me NOW!

“PHILADELPHIA… PHILADELPHIA… NO, NO… I MEAN… I RELENT… I RELENT!”

“Which is it?” he shouted, still tickling.

“Please My Master… please STOP… I RELENT!”

He continued the torment; “I think I have lost interest now my little slave.”

Lost interest? What a crock! If his dick was any harder it would have dislodged itself and worked on its own behalf. But I knew what he wanted; “I BEG YOU MY MASTER… PLEASE STOP… PLEASE… PLEASE… MAKE LOVE TO ME!”

Sam got rid of the feather, grabbed my hips and gently slipped into me. “Ohhhhhhhhh…” His penis felt so nice as he began to move his hips in a kind of undulating, grinding manner—not just in and out like a porn star. His motion, combined with my position, resulted in an immensely pleasant soft stroking of my G-spot—something I had rarely experienced. His motion also caused his groin to gently grind on my labia. I knew he’d be good at this but I would have liked it a little better if he hadn’t used a condom. One can only guess at how and when he managed to get it on.

I was very close to orgasm but I consciously tried to hold back because I wanted to enjoy this marvelous intimacy for as long as possible. Sam now began to rub my back with his left hand, up and down my spine. With his other hand he reached down and began to stroke my clitoris between his thumb and fore finger. He began to grind a little faster now and it was becoming impossible to hold back. Thankfully, this time I remembered…

“Chicago!” I whispered at the onset of the orgasm. Then louder… “CHICAGO… CHICAGO…”

Sam stopped rubbing my back, grabbed the little device and pushed the button. The current swept through me like a river, contracting every muscle and grabbing and holding the orgasmic flow as it passed.  Biting hard on the bit I squeezed out the words; “CHICAGO… CHICAGO… OH GAWD… CHICAGO!”

Sam released the button for a moment and my muscles relaxed a little but I was still coming like a banshee. “CHICAGO… CHICAGO… CHICAGO… CHICAGO … CHICAGO…” I couldn’t stop shouting the word. He hit the button again but this time in short pulsing bursts. My body arched with each contraction, pulling hard on my restraints. The orgasm continued, joining the pulsating current and moving throughout my abdomen. It was like being made love to by several people at the same time.

Sensing that I was about to climax he pushed and held the button then he grabbed my pony tail and pulled my head back hard.

“CHICAGOOOoooo…” Huge, huge gasp of air… “AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

Everything left me. I felt as if I had become liquid and was about to splash down to the floor in a large puddle. Sam had released the button and slowly allowed my head to lower before letting go of my hair. He was as slow and gentle as he could be as he withdrew but my vagina was extremely sensitive now so I jerked and gasped a bit with his every movement.

Sam backed away for a moment; then came to my side. He had quickly donned a pair of sweatpants and obviously dealt with the condom. He removed the clips from my nipples and the relief was a close second to the orgasm—well maybe fourth or fifth. Regardless, it felt awfully good. It struck me though; painful as they were, my climax would have probably been less powerful without them.

Sam now undid the straps to the bit gag and removed it. He asked; “How are you feeling?”

I responded; “Very good now My Master.”

“Okay. You don’t have to call me that anymore. The scenario is over.”

I looked up at him and said; “I know.”

He wiped my face with a clean towel then said; “I’m going to sponge bath you then towel you down and apply some ointment then I’ll pop the restraints. Okay?”

I responded; “Okay.” Then I whispered to myself; “My Master.”

He moved back behind me and carefully peeled off the patches from my anus and thighs. Then, using a very soft sponge soaked in warm soapy water, he washed me from head to foot. My arms; legs; between my legs; my boobs and tummy; and my feet. Then he rinsed me with equally warm water. As he toweled me off he asked; “How was it for you?”

“Ohhhhh, My Master… Chicago… is my kind of town.”

Sam laughed out loud and I was very pleased with myself for making him happy. I wondered if he had climaxed as well so I asked; “Sam? How was it for you?”

“Oh, it was pretty marvelous for me too. It usually is but it doesn’t really matter because its not about me.”

“But what if I wanted it to be about the both of us?”

He paused for a moment then said; “We can discuss that later.”

Sam then started to rub me with the vitamin E ointment. He massaged it over my entire body, rubbing until the salve was completely absorbed. I cannot describe how pleasant it is to be pampered by this man. I winced a bit when he massaged my breasts—especially my nipples which were still quite sensitive—but it was turning me on again. He continued to rub the ointment down my back then my butt. He massaged my cheeks slowly with firm circular squeezes. This was really turning me on now. I knew that he would be rubbing the lotion between my legs next… so I stopped him. “Before you continue could you undo the restraints please?”

He answered; “Yes, if you like. Of course.”

As at the beginning he had to pull pretty hard on my leg to unhook the first bungee but the others came off easily. Sam helped me off the rail and stood me up then he backed away a bit, unsure of what I wanted to do next. I turned and grabbed the top rail of the frame, bent over and spread my legs as far apart as I could. “You can finish with the lotion now if you want.” I said.

Sam squeezed more salve onto his palm and start back on my butt cheeks where he had left off. He then slid his hand between my legs slowly rubbing my vagina from bottom to top. His middle finger was bent just enough to slide between my lips. I was as hot as I had ever been and began to moan and grind my hips in tune with his hand. He had to know what he was doing to me; at least I hoped he did.

Momentarily he stopped and said; “Okay. I think that does it.”

I stood up and turned towards him. As he started to move away I reached out and gently grabbed his elbow. Looking into my eyes he smiled and reached for another condom. I stopped him and said; “You don’t need that.”

He cocked his head a bit and I nodded no. It was gratifying to know that he trusted me too as he turned back and moved towards me. As he came against me I put my arms around him and he moved in close and kissed me. My eyes closed as the pleasure of the kiss spread through me. As before, it was the same exquisitely soft, deep, romantic kiss--a kiss that could bring a woman to climax all by itself but my loins ached for him to be inside me. I reached down inside his sweatpants to see if he felt the same and… oh yes ma’am… ready for duty ma’am!

I squatted down just enough to slide his pants to his ankles then stood back up and resumed the kiss. He lifted me up and sat me on the rail then moved himself into me. I wrapped my legs around him and we both began to grind. It was wonderful and slow; my motion contrasting his. When I was about to climax and without breaking the kiss I whispered; “Chicago.”

He moved in hard against me and held me very tight then whispered back; “Ditto.”

We both came at the same time; breathing hard into each other’s mouths but never breaking that passionate kiss. We continued the kiss even after until we simply had to stop and come up for air. We looked at each other for a moment; he still inside me, then he said; “Looks like I’m going to have to give you another sponge bath.”

“Or we could have a bath together.” I responded.

We continued to embrace for a minute or so then he carefully withdrew himself, took my hand and led me up the stairs.

Yes, this letter triggered fond memories indeed and, as evidenced by the need to dry my hand with a tissue, the recollection was quite satisfying as well.

As I tear open the envelope I can’t help but wonder if it’s bad news. Could Darquesied have run into some legal issue? Maybe he has been forced to shut down. Could Kristel have done something horrible or vengeful? I wouldn’t put it passed that vicious bitch.

I laugh out loud as I see that the envelope contains an invitation… to a Christmas party!

A Christmas party? It is difficult to picture some sixty or so women mulling around Sam’s living room and exchanging little “Secret Santa” gifts. Women, all of whom have been bound, whipped, forced to orgasm, and so many other things under the guidance and eminent skill of Sam Darquesied. Well to do women who could afford the five thousand dollar sessions. And, according to Sam, mostly drop-dead-gorgeous women.

The invitation was for the twenty third and we were invited to stay the entire weekend—right through Christmas. I giggle as I picture Darquesied in a Santa suit. Without a doubt this is going to be some party!

I will have to phone mother and tell her that I will not be able to attend this year. I will require a good excuse; something other than; “Mother, I am going to a friend’s bondage ranch where, if I get lucky, I may get hard bound, flogged, and brought to mind numbing orgasm!”

It suddenly occurs to me that Kristel will have received an invitation as well.