- The Armoire

  by Sam Darquesied

A little further than I would normally want to go but this guy's stuff was supposedly the finest handmade furniture in the area and it was a beautiful day. I am still a bit baffled as to why Kristel would help me but, the moment she heard that I was looking to have a custom built armoire, she told me of this artisan named Darquesied. Seems his craftsmanship is second to none and he is in such great demand that he "consults" by appointment only. Again Kristel helped, insisting on making the appointment on my behalf. Considering that, in the four years I had worked for her at Mitchell's, Kristel had never spoken to me other than to criticize or berate, this sudden urge to assist was indeed surprising.

Finally, there's the mailbox with "Sam Darquesied" printed on its face. The drive from the city took almost an hour but the countryside was lovely and, hopefully, Darquesied’s unrivaled workmanship would make the trip worthwhile.

The driveway is long and graveled and cuts through a picturesque fenced pasture. Obviously this fellow does okay for himself.  The road suddenly turns to pavement and I can see buildings. The house is quite nice. Larger than I expected and kind of rich looking in a retro farmhouse sort of way. There are two barns, both pristine; painted red with grey roofs. There's a tall, burly man standing on the porch. Looks to be about fifty or so but ruggedly handsome. I park and get out of the car.

"Mr. Darquesied?"

"Yes.” He answers. “You're Sylvia?"

"Yes"

"Okay. As per your phone call you would like the scenario to begin immediately; correct?"

Scenario? I guess extraordinary craftsmanship goes hand in hand with eccentricity so if that's what he calls looking at furniture samples than so be it.

"That would be fine."

Then he says; "And remember the word."

"The word?" I ask, more than a little confused.

"'Philadelphia'! Don't forget it."

What the heck is he jabbering about? This guy appears to be more than a little eccentric but I learned a long time ago that patronization is the key to dealing.

"I won't forget."

“And Chicago too”; he adds.

Chicago? Maybe there’s going to be a test later?

"Okay… so if you would just come with me to the shop...”

As we walk towards one of the barns I see that Darquesied has what appears to be a folded black blanket in his hand. Curious I ask; "What's that?"

Matter-of-factly he answers; "It's a black canvas bag."

He opens a small door to the barn and graciously motions that I enter first. I am amazed at the cleanliness of the interior--more like a studio than a barn--and the strange equipment and racks and... suddenly everything goes dark! It happens so fast. Something has been pulled over my head and down to my feet. It's the black canvas bag! I scream and curse but I am so flustered it is nothing but gibberish. I am completely and utterly afraid.

I can feel the cord at the bottom of the bag being tightened around my ankles. The bag is loose. I can move my arms but I cannot see a thing. I feel strong hands fumbling around my head and try to use my free hands to fend him off but then a rope pulls part of the bag into my mouth and is quickly tightened. He wasn't fumbling; he was feeling for the position of my face. Suddenly all is quiet. I push at the bag but realize I may fall over. I relax a bit to regain my composure, dropping my arms. I feel another rope suddenly placed around my midsection and pinning my arms. This one is pulled extremely tight. Then I feel his hands on my shoulders and he pulls me back sharply causing me to fall. He has guided my fall so I don't hit hard but now I'm on the floor.

I feel him taking the sneakers off my sockless feet and kick a bit but I have no leverage so the kicks are weak and useless. Now I feel something being wrapped around my ankle. Like a belt maybe but wider; one on each ankle. Now something is clipped to the straps and again all becomes quite. I stop screaming and listen... there is a whirring sound.

My feet are being slowly lifted off the floor. Higher and higher then I am dragged a bit as the rest of my body is hoisted. I am now hanging completely off the floor. I picture a swordfish hanging on a hook at a Florida pier--some fisherman's trophy. It suddenly occurs... this man is going to kill me.

The rope around my middle is abruptly loosened and removed. I can feel him undoing the cord holding the bottom of the canvas bag at my ankles. The bag is pulled all the way down to the rope in my mouth. My arms are free! I start lashing out but hit nothing. I try to remove the rope in my mouth but my right hand is grabbed and a rough twine is looped around my wrist and sharply pulled tight. Now he pulls my arm straight to the right and fastens the twine to something; holding my arm in place. He grabs my left arm and wraps something on the wrist which feels similar to what is on my ankles. He pulls my arm straight down and secures it to something on the floor. Now he wraps a similar belt to my other wrist; cuts the twine and repeats the procedure from the left arm. I am now hanging feet straight up and arms straight down. Through all of this he has not said a word.

I feel Darquesied loosening the rope in my mouth. The bag falls and now I can finally see. Darquesied has a black hood over his head and as I open my mouth to protest he forces a black ball gag in and secures the straps behind my head. He immediately reaches for my blouse. I expect him to rip it open but instead he carefully unbuttons it, slides it down my arms and to the floor over the rubber bungee cords clipped to my leather bracelets. I am a little embarrassed that I am not wearing a bra. Still he does not speak.

He reaches up and undoes the button on my jeans and opens the zipper. He roughly forces the jeans up to my knees. I am screaming but the ball gag converts the sound to a muffled whimper. He pulls my panties up to the jeans leaving me essentially naked. I'd be blushing if I wasn't already flush from hanging upside down for so long. Darquesied then reaches for a long slim yellow rod and moves so that his mouth is beside my head. For the first time he speaks, in a whisper.

"This is an electric cattle prod. I need to use it on you one time so you know how it feels. If you cooperate you will not feel it again."

His tone is not so much threatening as... business like.

"Are you ready?" he says.

I hear a muffled "No" emerge from the ball gag, almost as if someone else said it. I feel the prod touch against my butt. As I begin to protest a sudden excruciating pain engulfs my body. Every muscle spasms and I bite down hard on the ball. I feel my lungs gasp in a huge amount of air and I believe my heart may have stopped for a moment. I let out a scream that even the ball gag cannot suppress. I have never, ever felt such pain. I am suddenly aware of something else. I feel moisture between my legs. What the hell is that? I just suffered the worst pain of my life and I'm aroused? What's wrong with me?

I hear that whirring sound again and see that it is a winch device that has hoisted me up. As the cables slacken I am lowered to the floor. Darquesied walks over to me, cattle prod in hand. He stoops closer and, in that businesslike tone, whispers; "Cooperation is key here. Fighting back will result in a second sampling of the prod only this time it will be longer. Your choice."

Fearing that a second even longer encounter with the prod might actually kill me I nod my head in compliance. He unclips the cables from my ankles and reclips them to my wrists and vice versa with the bungee straps. Darquesied walks to the winch and the whirring begins. I feel the cables begin to move and hoist me up. In a moment I am again stretched; this time arms straight up and legs straight down.

He walks over and, grabbing my jeans at the cuffs, pulls them over my feet and down to the floor over the bungees. Same for the panties. Now I really am naked in front of this stranger. It suddenly occurs to me that this is a fairly elaborate method of undressing me while keeping me restrained. All without damaging my clothing. Why would someone who is going to kill me go through so much effort to preserve my clothes?

The whirring sound begins again and I am lowered to the floor. He walks over and holds the prod in front of me--as a reminder. He puts the prod under his arm then unclips the cables from my arm bracelets and the bungees from my ankles. Pointing to a barrel near the wall he whispers; "Please walk over there."

I am angry with myself that I am not fighting more but the memory of the prod experience has taken the fight out of me, at least for a while. As I walk towards the barrel I see that it is not just a regular barrel. Laying on its side it is securely mounted to the floor. It sits in the centre of four posts, each about ten or twelve feet apart and all with cables wound up on spools near the bottom. There is leather or vinyl covered seat attached to the barrel. Darquesied points the prod towards the seat and motions for me to sit.

He goes to one of the posts behind me and brings the cable forward clipping it to the leather bracelet on my right wrist. He repeats the procedure from the other post to my left wrist bracelet. He does the same with the cables on the posts in front attaching one each to my ankles. He moves close and whispers; "Lay back now and try to keep the small of your back at the top of the cushion.”

I look up at him wanting to ask why but he reaches for the prod so I follow his instructions. He walks to the posts behind me and the familiar whirring begins. The cables on my wrists tighten pulling my arms up over my head towards the posts. I fight them a bit but it is pointless against the power of the electric winches. He walks to the posts in front and starts those winches pulling my feet off the ground. My legs are pulled towards the posts spreading me apart. I begin to fear the strong cables may pull my limbs off but, mercifully, the whirring stops. I am now tightly spread eagled and arched over the barrel. A feeling of helplessness, like I have never experienced, moves through me like a wave. Again I am aware of moisture between my legs. Damn! I have fantasized about this kind of thing before but I never wanted it to actually happen. At least I haven’t given him the satisfaction of crying.

That must be what it is. This bastard gets his jollies from hurting helpless women. He feels powerful when he has a woman restrained like this; unable to fight back. I close my eyes and in my head I am shouting; “I will not cry!”

I feel a funny sensation on my skin and open my eyes to find him spraying some kind of oil on me—message oil maybe. He covers me from my neck to the bottom of my feet. He leans close and whispers; “You cannot comprehend how beautiful you look right now. You remind me of the girl in ‘American Beauty’.” His tone is gentle and sounds… genuinely loving.

My ex boyfriend once said I looked like the blonde in that movie only I had “way better boobs”. I find myself blushing at the compliment. I realize that a photo of me right now would look pretty erotic. My hair is blonde and fairly long. I think I have a pretty nice body and at this time of the year I sport a good tan. I lift my head and see that I am shiny and glistening in the lights. I see Darquesied approaching; in his hand he carries what appears to be a small pony’s tail.

He holds it where I can see and whispers; “This is a horse hair flogger.”

The word flogger continues to ring in my head as he lowers the hair onto my tummy and slowly drags it up to my neck. It actually feels nice on my oily skin, tickling a little bit. He moves it all around my body.  Stroking my chest; around then across my breasts; back over my tummy and down the outside of my leg then back up the inside. When he pulls it between my legs and slowly over my vagina I involuntarily shudder. I am thankful for the oil as it most likely masks the wetness I can feel inside me. Under different circumstances this would be very pleasant. I am a little disappointed as he moves the flogger off my body.

He begins to whip me lightly with the hair of the flogger. The blows sting a little but the result is a tingly electric feel. He is rhythmic, contacting my skin about every two seconds. He starts on my tummy left to right then the opposite. Left to right then right to left. He repeats this on my side, just above my hip and moves up to my armpits and upper arms. He reverses the process on my other side, moving from my upper arm down my side to the side of my butt then down the outside of my leg to the bottom of my foot. My heart begins to race and I can hear myself moan with each blow. “Ohh… ahhh”. Left to right then right to left.

There is a short reprieve while he moves to my other side. Then he continues from my armpit down. The blows are a bit harder now and I begin to feel my heart pound faster. Once he reaches the bottom of my foot he continues back up but this time on the inside of my leg. “Ohh… ahhh”. Left to right… right to left. As he reaches the top of my inner thigh my moans have become short and rapid and my heart is attempting to beat itself out of my chest. He hits squarely on my vagina and begins to strike quicker. Left to right… right to left, left to right… right to left. “Oh… Oh… Ah… Ah…”. The blood is pounding in my head and I can feel an orgasm building within that’s going to cause some damage! Then he stops.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh… Bastard”; I scream but I doubt he could make out what I said… other than the long moan.

My head is spinning but through the fog I hear Darquesied’s soft whisper; “Don’t forget Chicago. It’s better if I know.”

I feel dizzy and disoriented and I am breathing heavily. The near orgasm is subsiding slowly but it’s still there. Why did he stop when he did? Judging by his obvious skill you’d think he’d know when a woman is about to orga… “OW!” I feel a sharp, painful smack on the sole of my foot. I strain to lift my head and can see him holding a riding crop. He doesn’t have to explain this one. He smacks again; this time on the ball of my foot just below my toes. “OW!” Again on the sole of my foot. Smack! Smack! Smack! Alternating between the sole and the ball; the blows are rapid and painful. They send what feels like electric shocks up my legs.

Without slowing he moves to the back of my knee. Smack! Smack! Smack! Even the sound seems to sting. “Ow… OW”. Through the ball gag it sounds more like “Uh”. My heart is racing again and I’m getting dizzy. I seem to hear the blood pumping hard in my head. He moves quickly to the inside of my thigh and continues the smacks. This pain is shooting through my whole body and again my breath is short and rapid. The orgasm has begun to rise again just as strong as before and I know there’s no stopping this one.

Suddenly he shifts from my thighs and smacks once on the spot between my vagina and anus. This pain is intense and my whole body tightens. I hold my breath as the orgasm starts. It feels like my groin is trying to turn itself inside out with spasm after spasm. He smacks me again. The wetness inside seems like a waterfall. It feels as though I am hanging on to the edge of a tall building. If I let go I will surely perish. Then I let go.

My body isn’t relaxing; it is simply letting go. “Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…” My voice is deep, guttural, and strong, even with the gag. It’s a sound I’ve never made before. The climax is frighteningly powerful and is taking all my strength with it. As the reaction slows I get lightheaded and the room blurs and spins. For a moment I feel nauseous but it passes. The sound I make is much softer than before; “Ohhhhhhhhhh” I feel so weak that I am almost glad I am supported by my restraints. I would not be able to stand if asked to at this moment. But; I felt wonderful… even peaceful.

My mind and vision begin to clear and I notice Darquesied, who has removed his black hood, is standing by my side smiling and looking into my eyes. He obviously enjoyed the show. He leans down and whispers; “Wow… that was very pleasant to see. You’re even more beautiful than before. Take a little break now while I go set some stuff up.” He kisses me on the cheek, moves to the winch behind me, and slackens the cables a bit. He moves out of my site as I close my eyes and relish in the relief of the looser restraints. I am left to ponder the completely delicious waves of pleasure that wash across my mind as my body continues to relax.

I have to force my mind to remember that I am a prisoner here, spread naked and helpless at the mercy of this man. I am angry with myself that I feel as good as I do. I should be fighting harder against this man whose ultimate intentions are a mystery. Could his intent be to “dispose” of me when he is done? I am confused and frustrated because I realize that if Darquesied was my lover and I was here of my own volition I would be having a blast! He has been gentle and caring; never berating or demeaning. He has called me beautiful and has not attempted intercourse or forced me to service him—so far. It seems ludicrous that this man would hurt me. I am a little surprised that I think that of a man who has just whipped me with a flogger and crop—not to mention the prod.

My musings are abruptly interrupted by my own gasp as hundreds of ice cold needles attack my labia. I open my eyes and see Darquesied holding a water device that is shooting a fine stream at my crotch. It is like a shower head with hundreds of tiny streams but with much more power than a regular shower. I shudder as he moves the stream from the top of my crotch down to my butt and back up. It is quite strong and unbelievably cold. It is a little painful but it also tickles like crazy. I am flailing in my loosened restraints and laughing so uncontrollably that I can hardly catch my breath. He moves the stream away but starts again, this time on my side.

“Stop… STOP”; I scream through the ball gag but the torment continues. He moves the stream up around my breasts then to my armpits, down my side then back up across my breasts. Tears of laughter and anguish are streaming down my face. He moves the stream back down to my crotch then lower to that spot between anus and vagina. If he doesn’t let me catch my breath soon I fear I will faint.

As though he read my mind he twists the nozzle and stops the stream. The laughing subsides but my head and heart are pounding as I noisily gulp as much air as I can. I can feel that I am aroused but there is no orgasm on the horizon. Darquesied places some sort of stand between my legs at the knees and attaches the nozzle so that it is fixed and aimed straight at my crotch. He picks up another device that looks like the thing a dentist uses to flush ones mouth—a water pick maybe. This obviously isn’t over.

Darquesied twists the nozzle and the stream starts again. I gasp at the sudden, sharp, tickling coldness. I seem to have developed a degree of tolerance as I can’t help but laugh but I am more in control. He takes the other device, aims it at my armpit and turns it on. “OH… SHIT” It is a powerful, single, fine stream of ice water that tickles horribly. The laughter is out of control—almost intolerable. He moves the pick in small circles down my side, over my tummy, down a bit then up and draws circles around my breasts.

My arousal is growing but this has to stop. I am able to grab short breaths amidst the laughing but I am getting very light headed and my arms and legs are aching from pulling hard on the restraints.

To my great relief he stops the pick and moves to the stand between my knees, stopping that stream as well. I am able to suck in a lungful of air just as he starts the water pick again; this time straight at my vagina.

“OH SHIT… SHIT… SHIT” He uses his other hand to spread my labia so the water goes right in the hole. The stream is so cold and powerful. My whole body has clenched, pulling hard on the restraints and I hold my breath. I am going to pass out this time I’m sure. The arousal is growing intensely but is offset by the discomfort. Then it stops.

Did I pass out? I feel that I may have but then realize that Darquesied has simply turned off the pick. It is like he could tell I was at the edge with nowhere else to go. It occurs to me that spreading my lips was the first time he had really touched me in any this.

“We’ll take a partial break now, before the next set.” He is not whispering now but his voice is soft and reassuring.

“Do you remember the word?” he asks.

“Philadelphia.” I mumble through the gag.

“Are you using the word?”

I don’t know what the heck he’s talking about and it seems to me safer to say no, otherwise I may be asking for something even more intense than I have received so far. He shakes his head in what appears to be disbelief and walks away.

I feel so many different things it is difficult to focus. I ache but I’m still aroused. I am uncomfortable but I feel good at the same time. I am beginning to shiver and I realize I am leaking cold water from my vagina. I am also incredibly thirsty. I hear footsteps approaching and have to fight the urge to sob. I’m not ready to do this again. Please… not again... not yet at least.

Darquesied reappears and I see he is holding towels. He stands between my legs and begins to dry me off. The towels are wonderfully warm—obviously they’ve been heated. He gently caresses me; first with one towel then repeating with the other. The feeling is exquisite and peaceful —like being cradled by my mother.

He drapes the towel over me and reaches behind my head to undo the Velcro from the ball gag. With one hand he gently pulls the gag out and with the other holds a bottle of water to my lips. I finally have the ability to talk but I need the water first.

“Small sips” he says. “Take your time. You can have as much as you want.”

The water is ambrosial. I can sense my entire body absorbing the drink with each sip. Champagne could not have tested better at this moment. When I get enough I look into his eyes and say; “Thank you”.

“You’re more than welcome” he answers as he gently slips the ball gag back in place.

“You’re doing really well”; he says softly. His expression is one of admiration. He gets up and walks away.

I contemplate my lack of resistance to the replacement of the ball gag. Was I beginning to suffer from Stockholm Syndrome? Am I identifying with my abductor?

I’ve only been here a couple of hours but my regular life seems distant—almost a fantasy. Now seems the only reality there is. My mind drifts to thoughts of Kristel. What was she thinking when she sent me here? I think of Darquesied’s odd name. I can’t seem to think of anything without drifting back to what has been happening to me for the past couple of hours. There is a conundrum because the thoughts are pleasant and this confuses me.

About ten minutes pass before Darquesied returns, carrying the cattle prod. He shows me the prod and I nod in acquiescence. He unclips the cables from my wrists and ankles and, taking my arms behind me, fastens the wrist bracelets together.  He points with the prod to an odd looking frame and bids me move over there.

The frame is a heavy solid looking wooden rig. It has two large square posts one on either side; each about eight feet tall and six feet apart. Across the top is a horizontal beam of equal size. It looks like a frame for a child’s swing except for an additional post coming from the beam but not reaching the floor. It hangs about four feet from the floor but is solidly connected to the beam. The whole thing looks like a capital E laying on its right side.

Upon reaching the rig Darquesied puts his hands on my shoulders, gently turns me around, and guides me so my back is against the short hanging post. He reaches around and unclips my wrists and holds my arms in front. I can now see that the bracelets are of heavy leather, lined with a soft velvety material. Large, sturdy rings are embedded in both bands. Holding my wrists Darquesied begins to gently guide my arms up over my head. He pulls my arms straight and hard enough to require that I stand on my toes. Then he attaches the bracelet rings to something on the post. I need to keep standing on my toes to avoid just hanging there. The bracelets are attached to a large ring which I am able to grab with my hands to alleviate some of the strain.

Darquesied now grabs my right ankle and gently takes it off the ground. He keeps moving it up and to my side until it is virtually perpendicular to my body then he attaches the ankle bracelet to the rightmost post. I am straining a fair bit to keep standing toe-tip on my one foot. I have been silent so far but, when he grabs my left foot and begins to move it up, I let out a plaintive; “Oh my” I work out and I can do the splits but never like this. He finally gets my leg in position and attaches my ankle to the left side post. My legs are now a perfectly straight horizontal line and my privates are open and exposed like never before. I can’t help but moan as my arms are beginning to ache at holding my entire weight.

He gets a length of white rope from a table and, from behind me, begins to wrap it around my thigh about four inches from my crotch. He then brings the rope around the back of the post and wraps my other thigh. He does this several times around one thigh, back and around the post, then the other thigh. The post only comes down to the small of my back so there must be a ledge or slot for the rope to fit in. The rope is fairly snug but not overly tight.

Darquesied speaks softly into my ear; “I need you to grab the ring and pull yourself up just a little bit.”

Without hesitation I do as he asks—damned Stockholm Syndrome. As I do he pulls hard on the rope and it tightens dramatically. When I ease off the ring I can feel that the rope is taking some of my weight now and it is easier on my arms but my hips are now completely immobilized.

“Now I need to do something that you are not going to like at all but it is necessary so you never forget your time here.” Darquesied is holding a butane torch in one hand and a metal rod with something on one end. He holds the items in front of me and ignites the torch. He uses the torch to heat up the end of the rod. As the end of the rod begins to glow a dull red I can see it is the letters “DS”. It now hits me like a train wreck… he’s going to brand me!

“NO… NO… Please NO” I am screaming with all my breath. I know he can hear me. He can’t do this.

“Please don’t do this” I begin to sob.

He puts out the torch and places it and the iron back on the table and picks up something black.

“It’s best that you don’t see this.” He speaks with the tone of a doctor about to give a little girl her first needle. As he speaks he places the blindfold over my eyes.

I hear him relight the torch and realize that he is holding the iron right in front of me as I can feel the warmth as he holds the flame on the end. I can imagine it getting hotter and hotter is it goes from dull red to blazing white. I hear the flame stop and I sob harder and scream louder; “NO… NO… PLEASE DON’T!”

“Brace yourself now. It won’t last long but it has to be done.” Darquesied sounds almost apologetic. I feel some heat near the sole of my right foot. Suddenly he makes contact—hard. The pain is monstrous. I scream from my stomach and all my insides. The pain is so intense that in my mind I cannot tell if it is hot or cold. I can smell smoke and the unmistakable odour of burning flesh. He removes the iron and the pain subsides a bit. I can imagine the horrible scar left by the iron and it must have destroyed the nerve endings because I cannot feel the actual pain much anymore. How could he have done this? He had been so gentle and kind to me just minutes before. How could he have done this? I am still crying but less from pain and more from fear mixed with sadness and disappointment.

“There, there. It’s over now. It will be okay in a minute or so and it looks very nice.”

“BASTARD!” I scream. Gag or no gag, I know he can hear me. I truly hate this man now and somehow I will make him pay. The fact that I can feel a renewed arousal makes me resent him even more.

After a minute or so I can hear him moving things around and it seems he is sliding something along the floor and beneath me. He moves to me and gently removes the blindfold. I’d spit in his face if I could. He wipes a terry cloth over my mouth and I realize that I am drooling like a Saint Bernard. It is exasperating to be this helpless and under someone else’s control. This man can make my body react the way he wants; when he wants. My unceasing arousal adds to my feeling of self loathing. I should be able to control at least that; no matter what the situation.

Darquesied walks to the table and returns with a flogger in hand. This one looks bigger than the horse hair one I enjoyed… I mean the one he used earlier. Like before he does not say a word.

He holds the flogger before me and I can see that it is leather not horse hair. He begins to spin the flogger in a circle around his wrist—like a baton twirler. While still spinning the flogger he moves behind me and I become aware of the sound, rhythmic like before; swoosh… swoosh… swoosh… SLAP. The first strike is at the side of my knee and I react like I was splashed in the face with ice water. The sound is sharp, like a hand striking a face and it stings much more than the hair of the other flogger. “Uhnnnn…” He keeps up the rhythm, moving along my leg towards my butt; every fourth swoosh is a hit. I find myself following his cadence; breath… breath… breath… “Uhnnnn…” When he gets to my butt he lingers, striking several times. The sting is intense at the part of my body being struck but, once he moves on, the feeling becomes tingly and electric—much stronger than when on the barrel.

He finishes at the other knee and now circles around to my front. Again he starts at the knee and moves toward my crotch. My breathing is becoming short like before and my heart has begun to race again. I am definitely aroused but it seems to come and go, fueled by the electric tingle then subdued by the pain of the whip. The tingle is momentary, changing quickly to pins and needles then to a severe and painful itching. This is much, much more painful than the other and I brace myself as he nears my crotch anticipating the agony to come. But he skips over to the other leg and continues to my knee. My legs and butt feel like they are covered with angry fire ants. The painful blows are a relief as they grab my focus from the itching torment of my legs and ass. My arousal is now in a holding pattern.

Now he moves to my tummy, never deviating from the rhythm. I can feel tears flowing freely and my heart is pounding along with my head. “Uhnnnnnnnn…” The moan is constant and unstoppable save for short, gasping breaths. He moves up to my breasts. Swoosh… swoosh… swoosh… SLAP. Like my butt he lingers here. The blows are agonizing especially when he hits my nipples; which are rock hard… not helping! Suddenly he moves the whip to my crotch. The first hit makes me gasp and hold my breath. Then five sharp blows, one after the other, land squarely on my outstretched vagina. Then he stops and walks directly to the table.

I exhale with that guttural; “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”

Darquesied returns with something that looks like a flashlight with a clear plastic probe on its end. The probe is about four inches long and a half inch around. He holds it in front of me then presses a button under his index finger. The probe turns to neon blue and I can see tiny sparks racing up and down the plastic. He touches it to my breast just beside the nipple.

“Iiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee…” The jolt tenses my whole body and the area he touched feels as though a hundred tiny rough fingers have reached into my breast and are attempting to tickle me hard from the inside. He moves to the other breast and hits the button. Each jolt makes me gasp hard and hold my breath. My body clenches and tries to force the fingers out like a constipated man who hasn’t crapped for a week. He moves to one armpit then the other. Then back to my breast but right against the side of my nipple. “SHIT… SHIT… SHIT!!!”

He moves the wand to my belly button and pulls the trigger. “Guhddddddddddddd…” It feels like I am being punched in the gut with a bed of nails. Darquesied moves the probe to my crotch and slowly slides it in my vagina about two inches… and hits the button. My body clenches then immediately spasms uncontrollably. I cannot breathe at all. He releases the button but does not remove the probe. He looks into my eyes and I beg; “Please… no more!” He pulls the trigger again then releases and removes the probe. I can breathe again but gasping as though I had run 10 blocks. My heart and head are still pounding and I feel very warm. Darquesied kneels and begins to fiddle with the device on the floor beneath me.

I strain to look down and see a black box, about the size of a large breadbox. It has a rod projecting vertically from its centre pointed directly at my stretched out crotch. It is difficult to make out but the end of the rod appears to be fixed with a rubber dildo. Darquesied squeezes some sort of jelly out of a tube and applies it to the fixture then he uses a wheel on the side to raise the rod until it just touches my labia. Even this light touch causes me to clench. He adjusts the position a bit then continues to elevate the rod, slowly forcing it into my hole. It feels… not bad. I was already fairly well lubricated so it slides in smoothly and I know that under different circumstance I could really enjoy this thing.

“Does that hurt?” He asks softly.

I nod no before I realize what I am doing. Should I have said yes or would he just move it around until I said it was okay? Darquesied hits a switch on the box.

The probe moves in and out slowly. He has placed it so it doesn’t go too deep, in fact… it is just right. The sensation is not entirely unpleasant. I close my eyes and I am moaning again but not the same as before; “Mmmmmmmmmm” Darquesied obviously knows what he’s doing.

My eyes snap open as he touches that wand thing against my nipple. It’s a good jolt but not as bad as before. He turns a little wheel and hits me again watching my eyes all the while. This jolt is less again and seems to augment the sensation of the dildo moving diligently in and out of my vagina. With a satisfied look he moves the wand down to my crotch. He touches it to my clit and pulls the trigger. “MMMMMMMMMMMM” My whole body clenches and it feels like the dildo is touching the inside of my entire abdomen. He hits the button with every plunge and releases with each withdrawal. I am getting very wet and that arousal has finally decided to attempt a landing.

He stops the activity with the wand and hooks it to his belt. Now he moves to the table and returns with what looks like a flashlight with a knobby ball on the end. Like the other toys he holds it in front of me and pulls the trigger. I can hear the distinctive buzz of a vibrator. Darquesied now kneels and hits another switch on the black box.

My breathing speeds up as I feel the dildo begin to vibrate. I can feel my heart begin to race even more, partly with anticipation of the orgasm beginning to emerge from some deep recess of my body. The torment of the whip has changed and it seems like it has now focused on my vagina. Everybody is in the pool!

Darquesied touches the other vibrator to my clit and hits the switch. My eyes close as if by reflex; “Ohhhhhhhhhhh… gawd”. With his free hand he grabs the wand from his belt and touches it to my nipples; one then the other; with short pulls on the button. In my mind I can picture little bolts of lightning cascading across my breasts. My body clenches. He presses the vibrator harder against my clit. I gasp in hard and hold my breath. The orgasm comes out of nowhere. It is epic!

Darquesied reaches down to the box quickly and speeds up the dildo. I am trying to press against the vibrator but the ropes allow little movement. Sensing this Darquesied presses the vibrator harder and increases the speed. As I begin to come the spasms are monumental. I am completely out of control and my body is shuddering and pulling hard against the restraints. It feels like it will never stop and I don’t want it to. Spasm after spasm seems to strike every muscle. The jolts to my nipples are stronger and longer and are in tune with the spasms. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” Huge, noisy gasp of air and; “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

My vagina now becomes very sensitive and I twitch violently with the dildo’s persistent plunges. Darquesied ceases his activity with the wand and removes the vibrator. He switches off the vibration of the dildo and slowly turns the speed down until it stops. Carefully he turns the knob to lower the dildo until it exits my hole and even this causes me to spasm. My mind is a fog of sounds and smells and sensations. I am so thoroughly drained I could sleep right here hanging from this frame. Through the fog I realize that Darquesied is speaking.

“… break now.” I only catch the bit at the end.

“Huh?”

Speaking very softly he repeats; “I said that I know on the phone you said you wanted to go longer but I think we should take a full break now.”

Weakly through the gag I agree; “Yes, please.”

He has moved the device from beneath me and moved a platform in its place.

He stands in front of me and asks; “Can you lift yourself up a bit?”

I look into his eyes and he realizes the absurdity of the question; “Oh, of course… Pardon my hand”

He places his hand and forearm under my butt and lifts me then, with one sharp pull, undoes the finishing knot in the rope. Another two pulls and the rope is removed. He gently lowers me and immediately goes to the rightmost post and frees my ankle, supporting my leg as it lowers to the platform. Quickly he does the same with the left. Seeing that I am unable to stand, he moves into me and places his arm around my waist. He lifts me off the platform, reaches up and frees my wrists. My arms fall naturally around his neck. He picks up my legs with his free arm and carries me about twenty feet to a small room.

There is a lush sofa by the wall with a white, terry robe draped on it at one end. Darquesied places me gently on the robe and closes it around me. Kneeling, he carefully removes the ball gag then offers me some water, softly reminding me to take small sips. He removes the leather bracelets from my ankles then reaches through the robe and lifts my arms so he can remove the wrist bracelets. Lowering my arms he readjusts the robe to cover me. I realize that I am dripping wet with sweat from head to toe. Darquesied gets up and goes to another adjacent room. He returns in a minute and reaches out his hands to me. My legs are still shaky but I reach through the robe to take his hands and he gently pulls me to an unsteady standing position. He turns and with great care, supporting most of my weight, he guides me to the other room.

The room is a bathroom of sorts. Not a regular bathroom but more like one you might find in a spa. There is a beautiful, large open shower with the water already running. Darquesied leads me to it and then moves behind me and slips off the robe. I step into the shower and under the spray. The water is luscious, just the right temperature. The cascade is soft, like a warm rain—I could stay here forever.

I sense that Darquesied has stepped in to the shower with me. I turn my head a bit and see that he too is naked. It stands to reason that he would be terribly horny from the recent activities so I brace myself expecting that he plans to have his way with me right here. Instead he reaches to a shelf and grabs a shampoo bottle, squeezes out a glob then says; “Step back a bit please.”

I do as requested so my head is out of the stream and he applies the shampoo and begins to message my scalp. It is very soothing. Getting more shampoo he continues with the rest of the hair hanging down my back.

Softly into my ear he asks me to step back into the water. I move my hands up to rinse but he moves them back down and says; “I’ll take care of it.”

I step back and he repeats the process then back in to rinse. He asks me to step back again and begins to lather me up from the back. Across my shoulders; down my arms; up and down my back; over my butt; between my cheeks; between my legs; then down to my feet. He gently turns me and does the same to my front, messaging my shoulders then around my breasts, down my tummy, over the groin, between my legs and down to my feet. With a bit more effort he could easily turn me on but I can see that this is not sexual—he is simply cleaning me. It is the most exquisite shower I have ever had. I step back into the water and rinse off. He reaches forward and turns off the water then motions for me to step out onto a bathmat.

“It’s warm.” I remark.

“In floor heating.” He answers.

He dresses himself in seconds then begins to dry me off with wonderfully heated towels. Like before he repeats the drying with a second warm towel. Then he reaches for a tube of Vitamin E gel on the cabinet, squeezes out a healthy amount and begins to rub it all over me. Slowly over my back then down to my butt, messaging the gel into my cheeks with the patience and skill of a professional. More gel then down the back of my legs; back up then between my legs. He gets another handful the moves to my breasts, gently messaging from the base and spiraling slowly to my nipples; messaging them between his thumb and forefinger. I cannot describe how nice this feels or how turned on I am. If he wants me now he will encounter little resistance. Instead he continues to message the gel in until it is completely absorbed.

I realize that none of this is sexual, at least for him at this time. It is pampering; his way of gently and slowly bringing me down from the intense high I just experienced in the frame and on the barrel. Darquesied does this very, very well.

Now he gets a new robe and beckons for me to slip my arms in then slides it up and over my shoulders. He turns me around gently and closes the robe and does up the belt. Taking my hand he leads me back to the sofa and motions for me to sit.

“You just relax here and I’ll get your clothes. How are you feeling?”

His query snaps my mind to the memory of the hot iron on my foot. I can’t really feel it anymore but the image in my mind is vivid. I raise my head to look at him and tears begin to well up. I begin to sob and blubber; “You BRANDED me!”

“Oh that. Just a second” His tone is apathetic; like he’s addressing a minor complaint from a child.

He goes back to the bathroom and returns with a hand mirror. He kneels down, pulls my right foot up and positions the mirror so I can see the bottom of my foot. “What do you think?” He sounds like he’s showing me a new pair of shoes.

I close my eyes, afraid to look. I can only imagine the how ugly the “DS” scarring my foot will be. Deep in the back of my mind I wonder why “DS”? I wipe away the tears and look into the mirror.

There’s nothing there! No scar. Not even a mark of any kind. Was it the other foot? No, I’m sure it was the right.

“How…??”

“Trick of the trade.” He says with a smile. “Just part of the package.”

As he gets up and moves towards the bathroom I ask; “Why would you do such a thing? It frightened me so much.”

He answers from the bathroom; “I sensed you were getting out of the scenario. I don’t know… too complacent maybe. I’m not sure how to explain it… have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

I look away and cringe a bit; “Yes, I have heard of that.”

“I felt I needed to get you back into the scenario. I needed you to be a little scared… even hate me a bit. But if it bothered you that much why didn’t you use the out word?”

Confused I ask; “What ‘out’ word?”

“Oh come now. Remember; ‘Philadelphia’. Any time you feel the need all you have to do is say ‘Philadelphia’ and everything stops. It’s a word I can easily make out, even through a gag. We went over this in great detail on the phone.”

Through my tears I shout; “We never spoke on the phone!”

I can see he is surprised. “Excuse me?”

I repeat; “We never spoke on the phone. It was my boss who arranged the appointment.”

He is visibly shaken and confused. “But why did you come here then?”

“I thought I was coming to look at a handmade armoire.”

He sits down hard in a chair across from the sofa; “You mean you had no idea what was actually going to happen?”

“I thought I was going to be looking at furniture.”

“Oh Jesus! I am usually so careful. I…I rarely make appointments by phone and even then only with clients I know real well. I mean she said she was you and… and said you… er… she was referred by a client who I‘ve known for a long while. My God! You must have been terrified!”

I look at him and begin to cry. He comes and sits beside me and I rest my head on his shoulder and sob uncontrollably. I think he’s crying a bit as well as he softly whispers; “I’m so sorry.”

A couple of minutes pass and I regain my composure. Sitting up I ask; “What is this place exactly? What do you do here?”

Darquesied gets up and returns to the chair across from me.

“People—well… women—come here for sessions involving… uh… fantasies or needs. There all different. They pay for sessions where they can indulge themselves in a safe environment without fear of ridicule or judgment. I guess it’s like a spa except… different.”

He sounds a bit like he’s reading from a sales brochure; “How much do they pay?”

“A regular session is five thousand dollars.”

Five thousand dollars! Holy crap! A hundred more questions race through my brain. Who are these women? Why would they want to pay to get their asses whipped? Actually, I kind of get that one. After a moment of incredulity I ask; “Was my ‘session’ paid for?”

“Oh yes… In most cases, especially a new client, I insist that the cash is couriered up well before the session date.”

I know Kristel is quite wealthy but five grand—holy shit!

I’ve always done a good job for her and I’ve never complained about the crap she constantly dishes out. In spite of that she was willing to pay that much to do this to me? I cannot get my head around that kind of venom. I am deeply hurt that anyone would harbour that kind of abhorrence toward me. I look down and mutter; “She must really hate me.”

“Or really love you.” Counters Darquesied.

I am surprised by that but I get his point. This experience had its moments and, if I had been here voluntarily, I think I would have enjoyed the whole thing. I am astounded at my rationale and shake my head to refocus.

“How long does a ‘regular session’ usually last?”

He leans back in his chair and responds; “On average, probably about thirty six hours.”

I am astonished; “You mean people pay you to whip and torment them for thirty six hours straight?”

“No, no, no. That’s only part of it. First of all there’s more than just the flogging or toy play. There’s the bondage itself; the perceived loss of control. Giving yourself over to someone and allowing them, for a time, to control your destiny can be quite sensual in itself—providing you can absolutely trust that someone. If you recall, the whipping and torment were a relatively small portion of what you experienced during the sets. You have to agree that some activities were at least a little pleasurable and that’s not to say that the whipping and other stuff were just about pain.”

He is not entirely wrong but I do not respond.

Darquesied continues; “They are all different but in a typical session a woman may arrive and we might chat for a bit or have breakfast—whatever. Sometimes it’s role playing. We may just stay in the house for that. Then we may come to the shop for a set or two, depending on her requests. Sometimes it’s a scenario like yours… well… like yours was supposed to be. Sometimes it’s just doing a few things that she likes or maybe trying something new. After that we might go back to the house for lunch; maybe she has a little nap. Sometimes she might go riding—I have four horses here in the back field.”

He waits for me to interject but I do not so he continues; “The point is that it’s about the woman. It’s whatever she wants. She knows she can come here to an environment of complete safety where no one will hurt her. It can be an outlet for suppressed emotions or maybe, for her, there is no other time or place in her life where she can be who she really wants to be.”

“No one will hurt her?” I snap sarcastically.

“That’s right.” He insists. “The pain that may accompany a set involving a flogger or a cane or one of the other toys, is aimed at creating an intense emotional and physical response within a woman’s body and mind. In my experience many women crave these experiences but have no other opportunity, other than here, to really feel what they are capable of feeling.”

I am trying to take this all in and so far it is difficult to disagree.

Darquesied continues; “It is important that you understand; I truly love all the women who come here. I consider it a privilege to be part of what they are experiencing and to witness them genuinely allow themselves to go to the edge. I am flattered… no… honoured that they trust me unequivocally to act as a guide. I would never breach that trust. To go beyond the edge; and for every woman it’s different; to go beyond that, or to actually hurt them, would completely defeat the purpose of this place and who I am.”

He pauses, waiting for me to say something but, again, I do not. I can tell that he thinks I’m just not getting it and, clearly exasperated, he stops trying.

“Okay. You just relax here and I’ll get your clothes.”

He gets up and begins to leave the room and I suddenly blurt out; “I have one more question.”

“Yes, of course. What is it?”

I pause a bit then ask; “Do you ever… uh… you know… have relations with them?”

He turns at the doorway; “You mean intercourse or oral, that kind of thing?”

“Yes.” I can sense that I am blushing a little.

“It depends. With a few women… yes. It’s a decision that we both have to agree on; both the limits and the context. I consider love making to be pretty special so I wouldn’t do it just to get my rocks off, if you know what I mean.”

Good answer.

He turns and continues out of the room. As he leaves he points to a bureau by the wall and says; “If you would like to put on some fresh undergarments, there are some in that dresser.”

I get up and open the top drawer. It is full of brand new panties—not cheap crap either but good ones like a woman would buy for herself. I pick out a nice white pair in my size, remove the packaging, and slide them on. They are a perfect fit but, oddly, they feel a bit confining. I sit down and begin to ponder his name. Sam Darquesied. Obviously not his real name. Instantly it comes to me. Quite simple really and I laugh a little out loud just as he comes back.

“It’s nice to hear you laugh. What’s so funny?”

“I just figured out your name and now I get the ‘DS’ on the iron.”

He laughs too; “Oh yeah. It’s a bit lame but it’s the only thing I could think of that kinda fit and still sounded like a real name.”

He hands me my clothes, all neatly folded and stacked, as well as two large shopping bags.

“You can put the robes and towels in the bags. They are yours to keep of course.”

He leaves the room again allowing me to dress in private. It’s seems a little odd that this man, who has seen more of me than my mother, affords me this privacy.

“Are you decent? He shouts from outside the room.

“Yes, thanks.” I respond.

Darquesied re-enters and sits in his chair putting his head in his hands. About twenty seconds of silence pass then he lifts his head and says; “So what are we going to do about this?”

I sit again and respond; “What do you mean?”

“Well, no matter how you feel right now, the fact remains that this ‘Kristel’ has done a terrible thing to you. Most likely you could sue or possibly even pursue criminal proceedings.”

I mull that over for a moment then respond; “At this point I’m not really sure what to do.”

“Well whatever you choose to do I will support you in any way that I can. If you need a witness I will of course make myself available at any time.”

“Wouldn’t that land you in trouble as well?” I’m a little surprised that I said that but I actually am concerned.

He answers; “Well, to the best of my knowledge nothing I do here is illegal. Everything is consensual, notwithstanding your visit today, so I don’t think I’d go to jail or anything. Remember, I was duped the same as you. However; I think it’s safe to say I’d be out of business.”

The fact is I wasn’t even thinking about Kristel until he mentioned it. After all that I had just experienced she seemed thoroughly unimportant. I almost feel worse for him than I do for myself. He seems genuinely violated.

If the opportunity to put Darquesied out of business arose at the time of the “branding” I would have done so in a heartbeat but now it seems terribly unfair.

I change the subject; “Can I ask you something?

“Of course.”

I continue; “If I was here for a regular session, consensually, what would we be doing now?”

He is obviously surprised by the question and has to take a moment to think; “Oh… well… um… it would depend a bit. You were, and I suspect still are, pretty exhausted when we stopped so I would have taken you to the house and shown you to your room. I think you may have wanted to rest or take a nap. If so that would have been fine. If not then we would have most likely had lunch. We might have discussed what you wanted to do with the rest of your stay. It’s kind of hard to be specific. As I said; everyone is different.”

I look straight into his eyes and, in my most serious tone, ask; “Am I to understand that I am free to go?”

His eyes change to a look of sadness; “Of course… you always were.”

He looks at the floor for a moment then back up to me and asks; “Is there anything I can do before you go?”

Surely Darquesied does owe me something for what has transpired but I realize the real culprit is Kristel… still; “Yes there is.”

He immediately responds; “Anything.”

“Explain the freaking branding thing!” I demand.

“But that’s a trade secret.” He says with a laugh.

I stare at him in mock disbelief… and he relents.

“It’s something I saw in a movie and thought it would be interesting to try here sometime. If it means anything, you were the first.”

I actually take a little pride in that.

Darquesied continues; “What I did was first set it into your head that it was real and inevitable by heating up the iron in front of you where you could see. Your brain tends to create its own reality based on what you see and what you anticipate. In this case you anticipated the pain of the hot iron hitting your flesh. After blindfolding you all I had to do was reinforce the notion by holding the iron close enough for you to feel some heat. What I actually did was put the torch on a table and the iron in a little stand in front of the flame. Meantime I retrieved another iron out of the freezer and a pork chop out of the fridge. When the hot iron was ready I held it near your foot so you would feel that heat then I switched and hit you with the iron from the freezer and at the same time hit the pork chop with the hot iron. Your preconception along with the smoke and burning smell caused your brain to do the rest.”

I am picturing him scurrying about attempting to perpetrate this chicanery and laugh at the vision. I look into his eyes trying to get myself to dislike this man but it is fruitless.

I keep looking into his eyes for a moment then stand up, grab the shopping bags, and walk out of the room towards the entry to the studio. It is quite a heavy door and is securely locked. Darquesied has followed me and reaches in front to unbolt the door. As it swings open I am startled by the brightness of the day. The sun is high in the sky so it must be around noon. I thought I had been here much longer.

Darquesied and I walk to my car and he opens the driver’s door. Taking the shopping bags from me he places them in the back seat. He holds the door as I get in then, once he is assured that I am clear, closes the door. He raps on the window and I roll it down allowing him to hand me a card.

“I cannot convey to you how sorry I am at what has happened. If there’s ever anything I can do please do not hesitate to call.”

With that he gives me a little wave goodbye and walks back to the house. I open the sunroof and lay my head back, close my eyes and bask in the warmth and the fresh air. I can’t help thinking about my experience in the “shop” and how, on at least two occasions over the past two hours, I felt more alive that ever before in my life. All the little minor annoyances of everyday life seem so utterly unimportant now. It is like the past two hours were my real life, the one I was supposed to live, and all the time before was just treading water.

“Okay, that’s it.” I say out loud as I get out of the car, slam the door and walk briskly towards the house. I don’t know why but just before I reach the stoop it suddenly dawns on me what “Chicago” was about. I hit the side of my head with my hand; “Idiot!” I say out loud and start to laugh. I continue up the stoop and rap hard on the door.

Darquesied opens the door momentarily and, a little surprised, asks; “Did you forget something?”

I look him straight in the eye and, in my most serious tone, I say; “So… what’s for lunch?”

He smiles warmly and answers; “Please, come in… I’ll see what I can whip up.”

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.

The Christmas Party (The Armoire - Chapter 3)

- by Sam Darquesied

Anxiety hangs like a thick fog in my car as I near the house. My last venture up this lane essentially changed my life, at least my perspective on life, and now I feel like I’m entering a kind of twilight zone or maybe another dimension. A three day Christmas party at Sam Darquesied’s bondage ranch… the mind boggles at the implications.

My headlights reflect off several cars parked all around the yard. Not limos or anything too ostentatious but all are top-of-the-line personal cars; fewer than I expected since Sam had said he had sixty or so clients. As I park beside a beautiful metallic blue Jag I notice the personalized license plate on a silver Lexus--“MARDI”.

“Shit.”

Party sounds emanate from the house as I approach; rambunctious chatter mixed with boisterous chortling, occasionally interrupted by bursts of loud, cacophonous laughter. Still with butterflies dancing in my tummy, I rap on the door. Almost instantly it flies open and reveals a beaming Sam Darquesied and I cannot suppress a little giggle at his ridiculous Santa hat.

“Sylvia! I am so glad you made it!” He gives me a huge one armed hug as he hands me a glass of champagne with the other.

“Come in; come in. Here let me take you bag and… oh, we’ll put the present under the tree… you didn’t have to do that, by the way… come on, I’ll introduce everybody.”

He is giddy like a school boy and it doesn’t take long to see why. As he puts my bag on the floor then guides me to the living room I am greeted by the sight of a dozen or so of the most stunning women I have ever seen in one place. All but one are dressed casually in jeans or slacks and I immediately recognize a beautiful, statuesque blonde from her work in television and an equally alluring dark haired Latina from countless movies.

Sam gets everybody’s attention; “Okay everyone… ladies… ladies this is Sylvia. Now I’ll just go around the room…” He walks behind each woman and touches her shoulder as he announces her name; “This leggy blond is Teri… and this fiery little Mexican spitfire is Malsa… oh, and this is Isabella, probably the horniest woman on this planet!”

Everybody laughs and Isabella gives Sam a playful shot in the stomach. Wearing a light summer dress, she is a bewitching, auburn haired woman in her mid thirties, voluptuous and sexy with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“This long haired beauty is Lilly and is every bit as fiery as her mom…” He points to Malsa! Mother AND daughter? This party is already surpassing my expectations… and I just got here!

“… and this long legged goddess is Helen—“

Isabella lightheartedly interrupts; “Hey! How come you didn’t say I’m a goddess?”

Everybody laughs amid a cacophony of demands to be called “goddess.”

Sam continues through the heckling; “I’m sorry, I should have said the horniest GODDESS on the planet!”

I find myself laughing along with them as Isabella fires a cushion at Sam. “Okay… anyway, beside Helen is the red haired, country ‘goddess’ Kendall and to her right is the flaxen haired little devil, the ‘goddess’ Penelope.”

Sam pronounces it “pen - a - lope”, like “antelope” and another cushion is launched at him.

“… and the young Irish beauty beside her is the ‘goddess’ Colleen… and beside her is our own Michelle Pfeiffer twin, the ‘goddess’ Gloria.”

Now he points to the woman sitting near the back wall and, in a more serious tone Sam says; “And, of course, you already know Mardi.”

Mardi glances in my direction and, in her typical “you’re barely worth my time” voice says; “Hello Sylvia.”

“Hello Kristel.”

I match her glare as she chafes at the sound of her real name. I realize everyone here, even Sam, is using a pseudonym of some sort but… screw her!

Looking around Sam says; “Where’s Al?”

Gloria and Colleen point to the kitchen and he excuses himself then heads out of the living room. Television star Teri and movie star Malsa come over to me and we strike up a typical small talk conversation. Within a minute I feel like “one of the girls”.

“I thought there’d be more women here.”

Teri answers; “Well, it’s Christmas and not everybody can get away…”

“And not everybody wants other people to know they come here… not even us.” interrupts Malsa.

Teri continues; “But we wouldn’t miss this for the world! Trust me, Sylvia, next year you won’t want anything for Christmas except the invitation to this party!”

We all laugh and I notice Malsa glancing at ‘Mardi’; “So… what’s up between you and the ice queen?”

I love her reference to Kristel and I know now that she treats people here the same as she does at work. “It’s a long sto…”

Sam interrupts; “Sylvia? This is my sweet lady Alyssa.”

As Alyssa shakes my hand she smiles and almost takes my breath away. She is possibly the single most beautiful young woman I have ever met. She is small, maybe five foot six or so, with very short cropped curly brown hair and the softest green eyes I’ve ever seen. I blush at my instant attraction to another woman but I simply can’t help it. She is in bare feet, wearing form fitting jeans and a simple, thin, white sweater top which does little to conceal the shape of her perfect thirty six Cs. Here face is soft and flawless and her body is tight and trim but not skinny. She must look absolutely marvelous when she’s naked and bound in one of Sam’s rigs.

The unmistakably abrading voice of Kristel snaps me back to reality; “Sam, we need to talk about this some more.”

With an exasperated look Sam escorts ‘Mardi’ to the kitchen. The four of us; Alyssa, Teri, Malsa, and myself, move to seats around a card table and I ask; “What’s that about?”

Malsa shrugs and says; “Not too hard to guess.”

Alyssa, noticing my puzzled look says; “She’s always complaining that things are not intense enough for her. She wants Sammy to do things…”

Teri breaks in; “Probably the bullwhip thing again.”

Over the past half hour of girl talk I have been bombarded with information on this place and Sam. The girls are sweet and patient with me, answering question after question and, all but Alyssa, sit wide eyed as I relate the story of my first visit. Gloria, Colleen, and the other women became silent and are listening in. All this while, Sam and Kristel have been having a heated discussion in the kitchen.

Malsa, living up to her ‘spitfire’ reputation; “I’d have killed the conniving bitch! In fact, we still could!”

The somber mood is broken as everyone chortles at Malsa’s jibe and she adds; “What… you think I was joking?”

The laughter increases and, through my giggling I say; “Well, you could say that she did a terrible thing to me but, after my two days here, you could also argue that she did me a wonderful favour…”

Malsa breaks in; “Ah… kill ‘er anyway!”

We all burst into irrepressible, tearful, snorting laughter and, for the next few minutes, any mention of Kristel includes some sort of dig and we are incapable of containing our side splitting mirth. Suddenly, Alyssa gets up and storms into the kitchen.

We can easily hear her light into Kristel; “This is NOT one of your sessions Mardi, this is a party and you’ve been at Sammy all freakin’ night! Now give it a rest!”

The ice queen retorts; “So you need your little lady to rescue you, huh Darquesied? Who’s in charge here, you or this little bitch?”

“That is ENOUGH!” It’s the first time I ever heard Sam angry.

“I don’t mind listening to your complaints but you’re crossing a line here Mardi. Don’t think for one second that you can ever, EVER, speak about Al that way! And, if you’re asking me to choose, you know there’s no contest.”

There is a protracted silence then Sam continues; “Now we’ll continue our conversation later…AFTER you apologize to Alyssa. You know I haven’t said no but, for now, we need to get back to our other guests.”

Kristel says something we can’t hear then storms out the front; rattling the furniture as she slams the door. With an arm on each other’s shoulder, Sam and Alyssa come into the living room and he says; “Sorry about that girls… I hope that didn’t put a damper on things.”

Teri says; “It’s okay, Sammy… we enjoyed hearing Ally tear a strip off the ice queen.”

There is some uncomfortable laughter then Sam says; “Yeah, I know… she’s my little wolverine… small but dangerous if you get her back up.”

Genuine laughter now as he bends his head to meet Alyssa, on tiptoe, and share a sweet kiss. She looks like a little girl beside Sam who is a big man, and at six three, towers above her by a good six inches.

Sam abruptly excuses himself to go check on Kristel and Alyssa, despite his protestations, accompanies him.

Helen has now taken the empty seat at our card table and I say, to no one in particular; “Sam and Ally seem pretty close.”

Teri explains; “Well, she is his lady.”

It never occurred to me that Sam would have a girlfriend and my puzzled look prompts Teri to continue; “Look, we all love Sammy and he loves us but the two of them are IN love. They’re like soul mates… they’ve been together for over eight years, even before this place. In fact, she helped set it up.”

“Wow! So, he met her when she was just a teenager?”

Teri says; “Hardly… she’s thirty seven.”

My jaw drops and I blurt out; “Thirty seven? Geez! That’s just not fair!”

Everyone laughs knowing I am referring to the fact that it is impossible to believe that this enchanting woman is any older than maybe… twenty five; even that seems high considering she has the body of an eighteen year old. And that smile… it REALLY isn’t fair!

Alyssa and Sam return and Gloria asks; “Is she still here?”

Sam answers; “Oh yeah, she’s outside sitting in her car. She’s pretty upset… crying a bit but, she apologized to Al.”

Malsa jibes; “Oh, poor baby!”

Some uncomfortable giggling then Sam says; “No, no. Look, she feels she needs something that nobody’s been able to give her… I’m not sure that I can either. It’s really troubling her so we need to give a little break okay?”

He looks directly at me as he says that and I nod okay as the others murmur in reluctant agreement. The he says; “But that’s tomorrow. What about tonight?”

Isabella shouts; “I know! I know! How about you and Ally do a demonstration like last year?”

Everyone applauds the suggestion and Alyssa’s eyes visibly light up as she says; “oooOOOOooo yes! We can use the new frame!”

Before Sam can say a word, Alyssa squeals excitedly and bolts out the door and, a little exasperated, he says; “Well I guess she’s up for it! Okay, give us a few minutes to setup. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

As he turns to leave, Kendall offers her assistance which he accepts and both head for the studio.”

Malsa, speaking to me says; “This’ll be really nice; you’ll see!”

About fifteen minutes pass before Kendall pokes her head in the door and says; “We’re ready.”

Everyone jumps up and eagerly follows Kendall to the barn and, as we pass, I glance at the now empty Lexus. We walk through to the rear section of the studio and are greeted by the most delightful sight. Alyssa is hanging, naked and spread, on a heavy wooden frame and, I was right before… she looks spectacular! The frame is made of solid timbers, maybe eight inches square and about six feet high. It is the shape of a capital H and Alyssa’s thighs are securely bound to the cross member with several coils of rope, holding the small of her back against the beam. Her ankles are secured to the uprights about two feet off the ground which spreads her very wide and forms the letter M with her legs and torso. Alyssa’s arms are tied to the tops of the vertical beams and her hands hang in such a way that I am reminded of the “crane’ pose in Karate Kid. The vision of her is terribly erotic and I close my legs in response to an abrupt burst of wetness.

We all move to join an already seated Kristel on a folding set of bleacher type seats across from the frame and, as my hand instinctively slides between my legs; I ask Teri; “Is he going to gag her?”

“Probably not… usually he would but I think he wants us to be able to hear her clearly.”

“GAWD… she looks hot up there, doesn’t she?” Isabella’s tone is one of true admiration and, obviously not a slave to protocol, spreads her knees a bit, slides her hand under her dress, and begins to slowly rub. A quick glance around reveals that all, even Kristel, have one or more hands strategically planted between their legs. Kendall now hands Sam a new horse hair flogger and joins us on the bleachers. He moves in and gives her a kiss then backs away as Ally smiles, closes her eyes, and lays her head back.

Sam, windmilling the flogger, strikes her first on the arch of her right foot… “Swack!” It causes her to jerk and  gasp and she squeaks out; “OOOO!”

“Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack…” He rapidly walks the whip up her leg, from her foot to her knee then up her thigh almost, but not quite, to her already dripping vagina. Without missing a beat he reverses the direction of the windmill and repeats on her left leg, again from her foot to just short of her labia. Her arms are not stretched completely which allows her to writhe from the waist up and the movement causes her magnificent boobs to bounce and jiggle. She is already panting and gasping for air and shaking her head wildly back and forth. “MMMMnah…MMMMMMMnah…”

I cannot keep myself from rubbing my hand hard into the crotch of my jeans as Sam, giving Ally not a fraction of a second respite, moves the whip horizontally to her abdomen then her tummy, up to just below her breasts. He skips over her boobs to her upper chest, her sides and armpits, then walks the whip up her arms. Despite her writhing Alyssa flattens her palm and Sam continues right out to her fingertips then quickly back to her chest then up the other arm. If there was paint on the flogger all but her boobs and pussy would be evenly coated. It is a magnificent sight to see him take the love of his life to her edge and I am sure I am not the only one that would give almost anything to be hanging in her place.

She is writhing and pulling hard on the restraints but the only sound she makes is the “MMMMnah” between gasps. This changes to “Ohhhhh GAWD!” as Sam, windmilling in an upward motion, begins to whip the underside of her breasts. “Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack…” He quickly reverses the windmill and lashes the top of her bouncing boobs. “OHGAWD-OHHHHHGAWWWWWD!”

He lingers on her breasts then rapidly walks the whip down, again changes to an upward swing and smacks her hard between her wide spread butt cheeks. Through clenched teeth she squeals; “OHHHHHHHHGEEEEEEEZZZZZ!”

I am rubbing hard enough now to start a fire then I hear a whisper in my ear; “Here sweetie, why don’t you let me do that for you.”

Kendall has moved beside me and pulls my hand out, replacing it with her own. She looks into my eyes to assuage my embarrassment at this unexpected intimacy and begins to rub. Her touch is exquisite and I make no effort to stop her as we both turn our attention back to the frame.

Sam is now moving the whip up and is laying it from Alyssa’s perineum, across and between her outstretched labia, and just skimming her clit. He is playing her body like a virtuoso plays a piano; milking the instrument of every last note. “Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack – Swack…” Then suddenly…

“Oh SAMMY… OHHH SAMMYYY…CHICAGO… CHICAGO!

I climax instantly as Kendall rubs faster and harder. Sam moves into Alyssa and grabs the back of her head pulling her face to his. Somehow he keeps up the whipping. Breathlessly Alyssa pants; “CHICAGO-CHICAGO-CHICAGO…” Kendall continues watching them as I begin to hump against her hand.

Alyssa’s forehead is pressed hard into Sammy’s and she is whispering something we cannot hear. Sam abruptly drops the whip, puts his palm flat between her legs, presses his thigh against the back of his hand, and slowly rubs. As her ecstasy begins to ebb she lets out a mournful; “OHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh…”

There are several “Ohhhhhhhs” from the bleachers, including my own as Kendall begins to slow and soften her rubbing. She finally stops, leans in and gives me a little kiss, and says; “It’s always nicer if someone does it for you.”

A little winded, I nod in agreement as she gets up to assist Sam and Alyssa. Suddenly everyone in the bleachers begins to applaud. It is an experience I will never forget.

We all pile back into the house and Kristel immediately goes upstairs. About fifteen minutes later Sam and Alyssa return, both freshly showered and in bathrobes. “Listen ladies, we’re going to hit the sack now but you know the house is yours. Most already have your stuff in your rooms but four of you are going to have to double up. Do you mind if I let you sort that out yourselves?”

Everyone agreed it was not a problem and we all said goodnight to them then watched Sam lead Ally up the stairs. The rest of us chatter and gossip for another hour or so then Kendall asks me; “You want to share a bunk tonight Syl?”

“Country goddess ” Kendall is exactly that. Tall and fit, muscular but not muscle bound. Her long, pale red hair is set in a French braid and she wears jeans and a denim button shirt. I learned earlier that she lives around here somewhere and is the one who looks after the horses for Sam. He pays her a generous salary and, as a bonus, she receives an occasional session at no charge. Not a bad job really.

We all say our goodnights and amble up to our rooms, smiling as we hear Alyssa’s soft moans from behind their bedroom door. Kendall and I have a large, well appointed room with a wonderfully soft queen size bed as well as a couple of large cushy chairs. My back is toward her as I unpack and I inquire; “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure… go for it.”

I continue; “Are you… Bi?”

She chuckles a little then says; “Only with Sammy sometimes. Other than that I am a full blown, card carrying lesbian.”

I continue to unpack but I am a little surprised; “Only with Sam… why… does he make you do things at your sessions?”

“No, no, no! It’s just that… you know… sometimes during a session we’re both there, horny as hell, and he does it so nice…”

I can’t help but wonder about Alyssa; “How does Ally deal with that kind of thing?”

Kendall answers; “She’s wonderful about it. She loves Sammy completely and understands that the women here are going to want some physical intimacy… I mean, you know what it was like at your session. Didn’t you feel like you were going to explode if he didn’t make love to you? Especially the ‘perfect slave’ thing! Anyway… Alyssa is very understanding about it and we all love her for that.”

I don’t respond to her question but I muse; “I can’t picture Kristel doing ‘perfect slave’.”

Kendall says; “You mean Mardi? No, as far as I know she never has. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy it but she refuses to call Sam ‘My Master’.”

Still with my back to her, I undress down to my skivvies then I turn and am startled to see her standing in front of me stark naked and holding a few lengths of rope in her hand; she is, quite simply, gorgeous.

Her luscious blue eyes gaze into mine as she says; “It’s entirely up to you, of course, but… I’m not really that tired yet.”

We stand there silent for a few moments then I slowly strip off my bra and panties and lie on the covers in the middle of the bed. Kendall kneels on my left, leans over me and begins to secure my right wrist to the bedpost. Her position has her breast millimeters away from my face and, almost as a reflex; I reach up and kiss her nipple.

She moans softly; “mmmmmmm…” then, as she moves to secure my other wrist she tenderly kisses me and whispers; “We’re going to have such a wonderful night.”

The midday sun awakens me and I realize that I am alone as I treat myself to a huge, noisy, satisfying stretch. I curl up again in the down comforter and smile as I recall the night’s events. Three times Kendall had to cover my mouth with her hand to suppress my moans as yet another ripping orgasm washed through me and, with some guidance, I was twice able to return the favour. It was indeed a wonderful night.

I get up, walk to the dresser and look at myself in the mirror; “Well, Syl… you came here straight and now you’re Bi… and you haven’s even been here a full day!” I must be Bi because I am already looking forward to another two nights with Kendall. I have a quick shower and put on some fresh clothes and head downstairs. It is Christmas Eve.

Lilly and Penelope are sitting at a small, four seat counter in the kitchen as I enter; “’Morning… is there any coffee?”

Penelope answers; “Yes Sylvia… here, you sit and I’ll get you a cup.” I sit at the counter and as she hands me a steaming cup she asks; “So, did you sleep okay? You and Kendall get along?”

I blush a little and answer; “I slept like a baby and, yes, Kendall and I got along very well.”

We look at each other for a moment then begin to giggle and take sips from our cups; “Where is everybody?”

Lilly answers; “Well, Mom, Teri, Sam, and Ally are at church; Kendall is tending to the horses; Oh… and the ice queen is out riding. I don’t know about the others.”

Penelope added; “Isabella and Gloria doubled up in the room next to mine and there was a fair bit of noise through my wall into the wee hours so their probably still asleep.” More giggling and coffee.

As the afternoon wears on people drift in and out until around three o’clock when all the girls, except Kristel, end up in the kitchen preparing a simple chicken dinner. I can’t help but notice that Alyssa is preoccupied and I ask; “Where’s Sam?”

“Practicing.”

Her answer is curt and I realize she doesn’t want to talk about it so I say no more. We continue to futz around and chatter in the kitchen until dinner is ready then we gather at the main table to eat. Kristel, who hasn’t spoken to any of us since last night, sits directly across from me and simply eats here dinner as if she was the only one at the table. Sam and Ally are seated at the far end in an animated, but private conversation. The rest of us just yak until dinner is pretty much over then Sam stands and says; “Okay ladies… well most of you know that later tonight we will have the whip poker game…”

Isabella shouts; “YAHOO!”

Smiling for a moment then serious again, Sam continues; “Before that though we are going to hold a medieval scenario in which a convicted witch will receive her court appointed punishment. I will need one additional volunteer to help with the scenario.”

The house has not been this silent since I arrived here. We all look at each other and shrug; this is new—no one knows what he is talking about.

Helen asks; “Who is the convicted witch?”

“Mardi Dimanche.” He answers.

All eyes snap to Kristel but she just sits there, staring at the table, acknowledging no one. Surprising myself I say; “I’d like to help if I can.”

Sam says; “Okay, good. Alyssa and Kendall are going to help as well so the rest of you will be the jeering spectators.”

Colleen and a few others volunteer to clean up so Sam, obviously eager to get things underway, asks the volunteers and Kristel to follow him out to the studio. The sun is just beginning to set.

Kristel walks directly to the little room where the shower is and Alyssa and Kendall go about preparing an area around two tall upright timbers set about eight feet apart. The timbers are the same type as in the H frame but higher, maybe seven or eight feet. Sam guides me over to a counter and picks out a four foot length of hemp then says; “Hold your arms out, wrists together, and I’ll show you how to tie a simple cow hitch.”

I’m a little confused but I do as he asks. “Okay, now watch carefully. First we wrap the rope around the wrists and cross the short end under the main line then, we bring the short end up vertically... like this… and wrap it around the back of the wrists. Last we stick it through the front loop… like this… then give it a little yank to tighten. Okay... let me do it one more time.”

I watch carefully as he demonstrates again then I try it out on him; four tries later and I get it right; “It’s kind of fun tying you up for a change.”

Sam chuckles, then says; “Okay, Sylvia… I need you to trust me on this okay?”

I answer; “I trust you Sam… anything you want me to do is okay.”

“I want you to go to the rest area and help Mardi… er… Kristel get into her costume. Then tie her hands behind her back using this knot. When I call you, keep the long end of the rope in your hand and bring her out to us. You can use this, VERY carefully if she disobeys.”

He hands me a leather cat-o-nine-tails and I stare at it for a moment then look at him; “Sam… I’ve never…”

“Oh… right… okay, come over here…” He takes the whip from my hand and leads me to a heavy wooden table.

He begins to instruct me; “Okay, you’re moving the cat, using mostly your wrist, in a circle… like this… then, add a bit of forearm and strike… like this.” The whip makes a sharp “SMACK” as it strikes the table.

“Okay? Watch again… you put it in motion with your wrist… then add the forearm as you strike… with a bit of a snap at the end…”

Another “SMACK” on the able then he hands it to me. “Okay, now you try.”

I take several shots at the table as Sam adjusts my stroke until I have a pretty good rhythm then he takes the whip from me and says; “Good… now hold your arm out to the side, palm up.”

Hesitating a little I do as he asks and cringe as he starts the cat in motion then; “SMACK!”

“OWWW… SHIT… JESUS SAM!”

He moves closer to me and looks me in the eye; “Remember that okay? That’s what she’ll feel every place you use it on her.”

As he returns the cat to me I look at him wondering why, of all people, he would ask me to go in with Kristel but, I promised him anything and I do trust him so, I do as instructed. As I enter the room I see the costume draped on the couch; it is a simple white cotton dress with buttons from the waist up, similar I guess, to what a peasant might have worn back in medieval times. She doesn’t look at me or even seem to recognize that I am in the room. Well, I have to get her dressed so I say; “Stand up please.”

Surprisingly she immediately stands but does not look me in the eye. I’m beginning to get it now; I’m the jailer preparing the prisoner for her punishment. Maybe this is Sam’s way of allowing me a little payback, something I may never get a chance at again. It would seem that I’m going to get to beat the crap out of her with this whip to vent my dislike for her and what she did. I begin to get excited in anticipation so I slide into character and firmly, with authority, I say; “Kick your shoes off… quickly now.”

She obeys and I then command; “Now disrobe… everything off and put them on the chair.”

Again she immediately obeys and when she is completely stripped I walk behind her. For no reason other that my own self indulgence, I put the cat in motion and give her a sharp smack on the ass. She doesn’t move, utter a sound, or acknowledge the strike in any way. Disappointed I move back in front of her and command; “Now put on the dress… quickly!”

She does what I ask but when she starts to do the buttons on the front of the dress I give her an even harder smack and shout; “No! Leave the buttons undone! Now place you hands behind your back!”

Her lack of response to the whip is frustrating but she complies, crossing her wrists behind her back. I bind her using the knot that Sam taught, thankfully getting it right on the first try. I tell Kristel to turn and face the wall then I command her to kneel which she does without question. As I wait for my signal I can hear the others filing in. Still holding the end of the rope, I sit on the couch, gazing at her back and I realize that I do not know this woman at all.

About ten minutes later Kendall comes into the room wearing a cloth mask over her eyes—the kind that Zorro wears—and motions me to turn. She installs a similar mask on me then turns me facing her and says; “Mmmm…Sexy!” Then, peering down at Kristel, she adds; “I’ll call you in a minute… oh… and we refer to her as ‘harlot’ now.”

A couple of minutes pass then I hear Kendall call; “Mistress Sylvia… would you bring the prisoner forth please!”

I give a sharp yank to the rope and Kristel silently and obediently gets to her feet then we walk towards Kendall and the heavy posts. Kendall motions for me to position her between the two timbers then says; “Jailers, please prepare the prisoner.”

Alyssa approaches and hands me two sturdy, leather ankle cuffs. I kneel and fasten them to Kristel as Alyssa installs her wrist cuffs then we both back away as Kendall continues; “Mardi Dimanche, you have been found guilty of the insidious crimes of harlotry and witchcraft. You are now brought forth to receive you just punishment. Do you have anything to say on your own behalf?”

Kristel is silent and stone faced. Kendal reaches for her leather cat-o-nine-tails and whips her hard across the top of her legs shouting; “YOU WILL ANSWER MY QUESTION, HARLOT!”

The blow causes Kristel to step back and double over a little but she immediately returns to her position and says; “I have nothing to say.”

Kendall continues; “Very well. Jailers, please secure the prisoner!”

Alyssa motions to me to come forward and I untie Kristel’s hands. Together, standing on a wooden crate, we attach her right wrist cuff to a bungee high up on the poll. We have to stretch the opposite bungee hard to affix her other cuff and, when we let go, the bungee pulls Kristel to her tip toes. We move down and attach her right ankle cuff to a low bungee on the rightmost pole, and then we need Kendall’s help to stretch the opposite bungee enough to attach the left cuff. When we release it, Kristel is snapped into a very tight and very wide, suspended spread eagle with her feet about eight inches off the ground. We all step back and Kendall commands; “Very well. Mistress Sylvia, remove the prisoner’s garment.”

Kendall then walks over to me and whispers; “Just tear it off from behind. We’ve snipped the seams so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

I step up behind Kristel, grab her collar with two hands and pull down with all my might. The dress is torn down to her butt and the sound of the ripping cloth causes the “spectators” to wince a bit. Even Kristel grunted a little which gives me some satisfaction. Two more yanks and the dress lays in tatters at her feet. Still stone faced, Kristel hangs, her sweaty, naked body gleaming in the lights. Then Kendall says; “Mistress Sylvia, you will now prepare the harlot for her final punishment.”

She motions for me to pick up the cat and step forward. “You will now administer twenty lashes to the harlot’s hind quarters… proceed!”

I set the cat in motion and begin to strike Kristel’s remarkably round butt, alternating cheek to cheek. “SMACK… SMACK… SMACK… SMACK…” She makes no sound but she begins to pant and her body jerks against the bungees; I remember my stinging forearm so I know she’s feeling these hits. I stop at twenty and am surprised by how winded I am and how my arms aches. I never realized how hard it is to wield a whip. Kendal speaks again; “Very good. Now Mistress Sylvia if you could move in front please…”

The “jeering spectators” have been silent up to now but, with some prodding from Kendall, they begin some cursory insults; “Whip the harlot… punish the witch… her magic is evil…” Their not really into it but it adds a bit to the illusion. Kendall continues; “You will now administer twenty lashes to the harlot’s breasts… proceed!”

I have to reach up quite a bit to strike her which causes me to hit a little harder than I should. “SMACK… SMACK… SMACK… SMACK…” Each lash causes Kristel to wince and emit a low grunt. I am gratified that my work is finally getting some results and wish I could administer more but I stop at twenty as instructed and back away.

My arm is aching like hell now and I am even more winded than before. Kristel is panting fairly hard and I can see if we lay on another hundred or so lashes maybe it would smarten her up a bit. But, I hope one of the other girls takes the cat because I need a rest! Kendall then announces; “Very good! We are now ready to bring in the master punisher.”

There is still a little jibing coming from the bleachers but they are struck dumb as Sam enters the studio. He is silent, wearing his black hood and carrying in his right hand… the bullwhip!

“Holy shit!” I say out loud. I thought we were just going to beat the tar out of her with the cats but… a bullwhip! Geez! This is too much… maybe we should stop this…

Kendall breaks my thought as she says; “The master punisher will administer fifty lashes of the whip. Your only means of receiving less than fifty lashes is to address the punisher as ‘My Master’ and utter the word. Do you understand?”

Kristel simply says; “Yes.”

Fifty lashes? Christ! They can’t be serious! This can’t be happening! Maybe… maybe… yes, that’s it! Their just trying to scare her… like when he “branded” me! I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize that this must be the case. I am further relieved as I see Kendall put a black cloth blindfold over Kristel’s eyes--the “branding” was the only time I was ever blindfolded. I smile a bit as Kendall inserts the rubber “horse bit’ in her mouth—like the one Sam used on me to keep me from biting my tongue. Very convincing!

Sam moves into a position behind Kristel, about twelve feet away then he uncoils the whip, pulls his arm back and smoothly lunges forward. The bullwhip unfurls and the end snaps about two feet from her back. The frightening “CRACK!” causes everyone in the room to involuntarily jump. He quickly lashes the air twice more and again we jump in our skins. Then Sam moves a bit to his right and takes a step forward. He again lunges and the whip wraps around the rightmost post. The sound is different as it strikes something solid and one can’t help but cringe at the thought of being struck by this monstrous device. Again, I smile a bit thinking, this must be scaring the snot out of Kristel.

Another lash wraps the post; each one makes everyone wince. Another, then another, yet another, then…

“IEEEEEEEEEeeeeee…” Kristel’s body goes completely rigid as the lash wraps around low on her right thigh. We all gasp as the reality of what just happened, hits us in the face. The pain must by unimaginable to have elicited the gut wrenching scream from the ice queen and I feel tears well up as Sam lunges again.

There is no scream at first as the lash wraps a little higher on her thigh, but the sound of her lungs sucking in a huge volume of air causes a chill. Then… “IEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee…” Even louder than before and she begins to sob and shake her head. Colleen is crying in the bleachers as Sam delivers two quick lashes to her opposite thigh. The blows were so close together that Kristel couldn’t scream between them but after the second…

“IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee… OH GAWD… OH GAWD…” She is sobbing like an injured baby now and I begin to cry as well. This is too much; even for this hateful woman. I must stop this. I must tell Sam that I don’t need this much revenge! I look at him and see him nod to an ashen faced Kendall. She moves in front of Kristel and shakily speaks; “You know… that you can… stop this… uh… harlot… you must use the word… do you want to use the word?”

Through her horrible sobbing Kristel screams; “NO… NO… NO!”

Why doesn’t she stop this? I forgot that she can stop this on her own, anytime she wants. What’s she trying to prove? My jaw drops when I notice drips falling from between her legs. Is it pee? No! It’s her juice! She is aroused for Christ sake!

Kendall backs away and Sam delivers four rapid lashes that wrap horizontally around Kristel’s hips and buttocks. “IEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee… NO… NO…” The scream is truly blood curdling and her sobbing is so hard she can barely breathe. Most of the girls in the bleachers are crying or have the heads in their hands. I can see that Gloria wants to run out but Isabella and Helen are hugging her and trying to console. How can Sam do this? He must be much angrier at Kristel than he let on but, still, this is not the man I thought I knew.

He continues the brutal thrashing, wrapping the leather snake around her abdomen, then her midsection, up and over her chest. Each lash leaves a bright red welt as evidence of Sam’s malice and brings forth yet another deathly scream; “IEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee…” We are all sobbing with her now and I can take no more; I must stop him now. I look at Sam, about to scream at him, demanding that he stop, but… I am stunned to see that he too is weeping!

My mind is reeling now. What is going on here? Why does a cruel man weep while he causes such agony?

Sam rears back and delivers the twenty ninth searing, horizontal lash to her hips. The whip wraps and the end snaps against her butt, leaving yet another bright red welt but then… Kendall suddenly motions for Sam to hold and moves close to Kristel; “Did you say something?”

Kristel does whisper something and Kendall says; “I’m sorry honey but, you have to say it louder.”

Kristel takes a breath then, through her sobs she whispers hoarsely; “Please… please… My Master… Philadelphia.” Her head drops forward and she passes out.

Sam immediately drops the whip and motions for everyone to move in. He stretches the left bungee and unhooks her anklet in one motion then, just as quickly, unhooks the other. Alyssa has placed the wooden crate in front and Sam, unfolding a sharp utility knife, steps up and, taking Kristel’s weight with one arm, slices through the right bungee cord. Five of us move in and hold her up so he can cut the other restraint then Kristel slumps into our arms.

We carry her to a towel covered massage table and lay her gingerly on her tummy. She is moaning and beginning to come out of her faint. Isabella, Alyssa, and a couple of the others begin to gently daub her with cool wet towels as Sam just stands watching about ten feet away. Kendall is bent close to Kristel’s face, gently wiping her with a wet cloth and stroking her hair; ‘It’s okay now Mardi… we’ll take care of you.”

Kristel begins to compose herself and lifts her head slightly to look around. She whispers something to Kendall who turns and motions Sam to come closer. When he is beside her, Kristel lifts her head to look at him and then, with as clear a voice as she can muster, says; “Thank you… My Master… thank you…” She lays her head back and closes her eyes.

Sam leans in and kisses her on the forehead then turns and goes out the studio door. Alyssa hands me her towel and follows and I can’t help thinking that Kristel is now a broken women; Sam has broken her will by brutally beating her until she had to give in or die but… she could have stopped it. Why didn’t she stop it sooner?

We continue to minister to her and when she can walk, we help her to the shower. Gloria, Colleen, and I undress and take her under the soft, warm water and even this delicate rain touching her skin causes her to wince. As I gently wash her shoulders I look at her face and… suddenly it all becomes clear… he hasn’t broken her; that was never the intent. Instead he has helped her reach a plateau that she desperately needed to get to but could never attain without him. I begin to cry, overwhelmed by the power of the event I have been privileged to observe. I have witnessed a metamorphosis and see now that Kristel will never be the same. She needed this like the rest of us need air and she will never have to do this again. But, what about Sam?

When we complete Kristel’s ministrations we, oh so carefully, dress her in a bathrobe and, with Isabella and Gloria supporting her, we walk out of the studio. As we exit I glance to my left and see Sam sitting on a garden bench, his arms and head on his knees, with Alyssa hugging and rubbing his back. I feel I should leave them be but Alyssa motions for me to come over.

She moves her head away from Sam and whispers; “Do you understand what that was all about in there?”

I nod and whisper that I do but she repeats; “Are you sure you get it… about Kristel I mean?”

I answer; “Yes I get it now. I didn’t at first but I do now. Most of us do I think.”

“Okay, then can you stay with Sammy while I go to the house for a few?”

I tell her that I would be happy to and then take her place beside him as she runs to the house. It’s easy to see that he is terribly upset by all this and that he has been crying. I just keep my arm around him and silently rub his shoulder. A couple of minutes pass and he abruptly sits up and leans back in the bench.

“Well… that was quite an evening, eh?” He rubs the moisture from his face with his palms.

I nod in agreement and he continues; “I could see the girls… in the bleachers… they must think I’m Satan reborn!”

He begins to tear up again but, as I start to speak, he breaks himself out; “Geez! I wish I had a cigar!”

As if on cue, Colleen comes bounding out of the house with a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other. She is a petite young thing with long, fire red hair and pale eggshell skin. She is rarely without a smile and is gregarious to a fault. She hands the items to Sam and says; “Rye and ginger; easy on the ginger, just the way you like it.”

She then leans down and, placing a hand on either side of his face, tilts his head back and tenderly kisses him. “Don’t fret Sammy, we love you and we understand now. We love you even more than before.”

Sam answers; “Thank you my sweet Irish lassie.”

Beaming, she does a mock curtsey then turns and runs back to the house. Sam takes a healthy swig of his drink then a long, satisfying drag on the already lit cigar. I then say; “She’s right, you know, we all get it now. We just didn’t realize how much it upset you.”

“I thought I’d be able to handle it better… I mean, I practiced for weeks on posts and stuff then, I bought two dead pigs and beat the shit out of them until I could strike without breaking skin. I was sure I could do it but that day when Ally screamed I…”

“Ally! You used that on Alyssa???” I couldn’t believe he would even consider lashing her with that awful thing.

He takes a breath then a long sigh; “I know, I know! But… you know her… she kind of insisted… I was practicing a couple of weeks ago and I was pretty good with it by then. No breaks, just the welts… and they go away after a few days so… you know… anyway, Al was watching and said it looked to her that I had it down, and then I said that the only real test was going to be Mardi.”

Sam takes another deep breath another sigh; “Suddenly she jumps off the fence and strips! Then she stands there with her hands behind her back and her legs spread and says that… I’ll have to try it on her! I said no way but she said she would stand there all day and night ‘til I whipped her… just once she said… on the thigh.”

He was beginning to get teary eyed again but he continued; “So… I decided… okay, just one. It wouldn’t be that bad but I was shaking Syl. I was so scared… I took about ten swings at the pig again… you know… to be sure, then I wrapped one around her thigh…”

He was crying a bit now; “Oh… she screamed Syl… worse than what you heard in there. It didn’t break her skin or anything but I hurt her so bad… She’s my soul, you know Sylvia? And I had hurt her worse than anybody ever had.”

I hug him as hard as I can then, after a moment, I ask; “Was she upset?”

“Upset? Hell no! I dropped the whip and went and hugged her and she hugged me back really tight… and said she was sorry for screaming! She said I had done it perfectly and the welt would go away… we just sat there and hugged and cried for a long time… I don’t deserve her Syl… but without her I truly have no soul.”

I hug him and kiss him on the neck and we just sit for a few minutes. I can’t help but envy what Alyssa has with this man. I doubted him back there; for a few moments I lost my trust in him, but I know for a fact that Alyssa never could. If he asked her to, she would, without a moment’s hesitation, step in front of a speeding train.

As we enter the house all the girls in the living room surround Sam and hug him, kiss him, tell him they love him, and tell him they understand. There is some crying and laughing and then they guide him to another towel covered massage table and have him sit on the edge. We all find seats that more or less make him the focus of the group and then Penelope asks; “Are you okay Sammy?”

“Oh yeah… you guys are great… this really helps. I’m just glad you don’t all despise me.”

We all talk over top of one another telling him that we care deeply for him until Isabella’s voice breaks through; “Do me a little favour though, willya Sam… no matter how much I beg or pester, don’t ever use that thing on me okay?”

Sam answers; “DEAL!”

He then asks; “Is she upstairs?”

Alyssa answers; “Yes… Gloria and Kendall are with her… she’ll be okay Sam.”

Sam nods then looks at his watch; “Well, I guess we still have time for whip poker if you like. Although I think Gloria wanted to…”

Isabella abruptly jumps to her feet, moves in front of him, and gives him a huge hard kiss. She moves back and, still holding his face, says; “Actually we decided to postpone that ‘til tomorrow and do something else instead.”

“What’s that? Sam asks.

“BLITZ MASSAGE!” With that, we all jump up and surround Sam and, before he can say another word, Isabella has his sweatshirt up, over his head and off.

When we first came in, Malsa told me that Alyssa had asked them if they would all give Sam a full body massage when he returned; as a way of showing that everything was okay. Isabella just made up the name.

Sam protests a bit; “I appreciate it girls but you don’t have to…”

Isabella interrupts; “Shush! Now stand up, big boy, so I can finish my job.”

With a sigh Sam stands and Isabella immediately pulls his sweatpants and underwear to his feet. She squats down, helps him step out then gives him a little peck on his penis as she stands. “Okay, lover, lie down on your tummy.”

We all move around the table and take positions by his side; at his shoulders are Malsa and Lilly, at his butt are Isabella and Helen, his legs are covered by Penelope and Colleen, and I am at his right foot and Teri at the other. Alyssa, standing at his head, pours a generous amount of warm massage oil on his back then passes the bottle to Colleen who pours some on his legs then gives the bottle to Teri. Sam immediately begins to moan his appreciation as we all start to rub and we can feel him begin to relax. Alyssa has her face down close to his and is gently rubbing his temples. After a few minutes, Isabella suggests that he roll over on his back and, reluctantly, he complies.

We all reload with massage oil and begin to rub him again; Isabella and Helen massaging around, but not touching, his genetalia. He is so relaxed that his penis is soft but this begins to change soon after we begin. Then Isabella asks; “Ally, do you want to change spots with me so you can…”

Ally says; “Oh, that’s okay Isabella, go ahead. I’m pretty sure he won’t mind.”

Isabella answers; “Actually it wasn’t him I was thinking of.”

Alyssa restates; “I appreciate that Iz but, please, go ahead.”

With that Isabella and Helen begin to massage his testicles and penis which quickly displays its appreciation. Sam begins to pant softly as Isabella moves her head slowly down.

Alyssa, still gently rubbing Sam’s temples, says; “Just you hands Isabella… be good now.”

Isabella protests; “But, when he’s ready he’s going to need somebody…”

A voice from behind us says; “Could I be permitted to be that somebody?”

We all turn to see Kristel, supported by Kendall and Gloria, standing in the doorway. Alyssa smiles and motions her to come and take the place of a somewhat disappointed Isabella. Kristel moves in and then drops her bathrobe to reveal the multitude of red welts; we all wince at the sight. Alyssa leans down to Sam; “My Master, Mardi has a request.”

He lifts his head a bit as Kristal lowers her eyes and softly asks; “My Master, may I be permitted the privilege of pleasuring you with my mouth?”

Sam rolls his eyes up to Alyssa who nods her approval then he says; “That would be very nice, my little slave.”

Kristel smiles then moves her head down and begins to softly kiss and lick his manhood. Then she slowly takes him into her mouth right down to the base. I can’t help but admire her for doing this and doing it so well! I have to wonder how she acquired her obvious talent for this as Sam begins to pant harder. Alyssa then leans down and begins to kiss him upside down, Spiderman style. When he finally erupts, Kristel does not speed up or change her rhythm, she just keeps her steady in and out motion until he is completely spent. It is one of the most sensual things I have ever seen.

We all opt for an early night and Sam asks if Kendall and I are okay to double up for another night. In unison we quickly reply; “Oh YES!”

Kristel asks if Gloria would mind staying with her tonight and Gloria accepts leaving Isabella to say; “Awe… now I’m all alone!”

Colleen steps up, takes her hand and says; “No you’re not, lassie.”

There is a silent pause as the other girls look at each other then, excitedly, other pairings are quickly, almost randomly made, ending with Helen being odd-man-out. Isabella and Colleen take her hand and they all run up the stairs giggling.

“RISE AND SHINE… IT’S CHRISTMAS… TIME FOR PRESENTS!”

Kendall and I are rudely awakened by Sam’s announcement and loud hammering on our door. Our limbs are so intertwined that it takes a few seconds to untangle ourselves. We are sleepy, sweaty, and SO contentedly happy and, as I enjoy my requisite early morning stretch, I feel Kendall’s hand begin to massage my breast. I smile at her as she leans down, starts a long, soft, deep kiss, and slides her hand down, between my legs. I am instantly wet and spread to accommodate, then I press my lips harder against hers and lightly pinch her nipple. We both begin to moan…

“COME ON LOVERS… LET’S GO! SANTA’S BEEN HERE!”

In unison we both whisper; “Shit!”

We reluctantly concede defeat to Sam’s excitement, roll out of bed, and throw our bathrobes on. As we head for the door I grasp her elbow and say; “Kendall, I hope you know how wonderful the last two nights have been. I… you’re just amazing.”

She smiles and says; “Me too Sylvia, me too… so… you thinkin’ of switchin’ teams?”

We both chuckle and I add; “I wish we could have more than just one more night.”

We go into the hall, move towards the stairs and Kendall says; “Yeah, me too… maybe we should sign up for the whip poker game. I might win you!”

“Just what the hell is ‘whip poker’ anyway?”

She giggles a bit then; “Oh, well… anybody can play but it’s best with even numbers. Everybody wears the same items… you know… bra, panties, shirt, pants, and socks—socks count as one. Then it’s regular draw poker and the loser sheds an article of clothing. It’s a little different; you all show your hands and the worst is the loser and the best is the winner.”

I interject; “So, it’s just strip poker.”

“Well, not quite… when you’re naked, and you have another loss then you have to pick a piece of paper from a jar. The paper says how you’ll be bound and the winner of that hand gets first crack at you.”

I ask; “How you’ll be bound?”

“Yeah… like it might say ‘The Stocks’ or maybe ‘Hogtie’, something like that. So Sam takes you out and gets you ready then the winner gets you for fifteen minutes. After that, everybody gets you for a while.”

“Sounds… interesting… but I am a lousy poker player.”

Kendall smiles, gives me a kiss, and says; “I, on the other hand, am an excellent poker player!”

We are giggling like four year olds as we enter the kitchen.

A few girls are here getting coffee or juice and the rest are in the living room. We say our good mornings, get our drinks and join the others. Everyone is in their bathrobes and the only one wearing anything else is Sam... that stupid Santa hat!

A jovial Sam greets us; “Good morning all and Merry Christmas! I trust you all slept well?”

We all return his greeting then Kendall says she wants to check on the horses and that she’ll only be a couple of minutes. She heads outside and Sam continues; “Well, it’s time to dole out the presents and, as usual, I am embarrassed by the number of gifts with my name on it. I keep telling you not to do that but… well… you are a disobedient lot aren’t you?”

Everybody answers at once; “Oh yes we are naughty!” or “We need to be punished!”

Isabella blurts; “Oh My Master, you should punish me right now!” With that, she stands, turns, bends over, and lifts her robe. We are all laughing hysterically as Sam swats her on the bum with his Santa hat.

Sam interrupts; “I’m going to top off my coffee… we should wait for Kenny… I’m sure she won’t be long.”

As he goes to the kitchen I feel a little anxious about the gifts. I received a letter from someone named “Sadie” who stated things in her writing which left no doubt that she was a client. She had sent the letter to all the clients she knew of and asked if we wanted to chip in on a large gift for Sam. I sent her a cheque but I still wanted to get him something special on my own however; sitting here now, I wonder how it will stack up to the gifts that these wealthy women would give.

I can’t help but smile as I look at Kristel sitting beside, and chatting with, Malsa. The woman who, less than two days ago, thought it would be best to kill Kristel was now jabbering with her like a giddy schoolgirl!

Kendall returns just as Sam enters the living room with his fresh coffee and he immediately begins to hand out gifts. He grabs one for himself, and sits as we tear into the wrapping paper. Mine is a beautiful gold chain with a heart shaped pendant, also in gold, with the letters “DS” in small diamonds. This is obviously custom made and very expensive. On the back is engraved “Chicago! It’s our kind of town”. Tears begin to well as I reminisce and stare at this carefully considered gift.

The others have received equally thoughtful presents; some got different types of jewelry while others got mementos that were special to them but a mystery to the rest of us. I look over and see that Sam has received a Rolex from Teri and the anxiety about my gift returns.

As Sam begins to get up Isabella stops him and says; “Hey, since there’s a whole bunch of packages with your name on ‘em, why don’t we clean some of them up first.” Over the next few minutes she hands him gift after gift including a large humidor completely filled with his favourite Dutch cigars from Malsa and a first edition Robert Rourk book from Colleen.

Sam gets up now and hands us each a personally tagged but otherwise identical package. He gets a package for himself, and sits as we all again attack the wrappings. They are all DVDs. There are two in my package, both titled “Sylvia’s Torment”. I can’t keep from gasping!

Teri, sitting to my left, notices my astonishment and says; “You seem pretty surprised.”

Incredulously I say; “You mean… he filmed the…”

Teri explains; “Oh yes… he has about twenty cameras strategically placed all over the studio… even in here.” She points and I see the small camera in the far corner near the ceiling.

She continues; “It’s a lot of work but he does a real good job. If you had a scenario, you get two versions, one where he edits out all the in-between stuff so it plays like a real kidnapping or whatever, and another with everything.”

Still shocked; “But… could other people see this…”

Sam, overhearing my question, comes over and says; “I’m sorry Syl, I forgot to tell you about this… everybody has the only two copies from their sessions; I erase all the digital files on my computer. Some people leave me one of the copies, others don’t. It is entirely up to you…. Oh, and, if you tell me before a session that you don’t want the cameras on, that’s okay too.”

Sam returns to his seat and most of the girls go over and hand him one of their copies and give him a little kiss. Then Isabella says; “Okay Sammy, two more to go. This one’s from Sylvia.”

He takes the package, smiles at me, and rips the paper off; “Oh Sylvia… WOW… this is… amazing!” All the girls move behind him to see the oil painting… of my shiny, oiled body spread-eagled over the barrel—my first encounter with Sam.

Sam, genuinely impressed, says; “How did you… how the heck did you…”

“I took a digital picture of myself stretched over my footstool then described the scene, as best I could remember, to the artist. She made a bunch of sketches and, when she got it more or less right, well… there it is. I told her it was just a fantasy of mine.”

Sam comes over and gives me a kiss then says; “Thank you very much Syl… this is really special. I’ll put it somewhere discreet but, really, I’d love to put it over the mantle.”

I look up at him and hand him one of my DVDs and say; “I’d be honoured.”

He gets up and replaces a landscape over the fireplace with the portrait and… there I am, stretched naked for the world to see. I am beaming with pride now but a few months ago I would have died.

Isabella breaks in once more; “One more to go, Sammy.” And hands him a small package with a large envelope attached. He opens the envelope and begins to read the card; “uh… apparently it’s from everybody. I won’t read all the names but all of yours’ are on it, and there’s a note from Sadie… ‘Dear Sammy, This is a small token from all of us. You have made a huge difference in all out lives and you know that you saved mine. Lots of love – Sadie’”

A little teary eyed now he opens the package revealing a note that reads; “Too big for this box. Go look out front.”

We all get up and go to the front porch and there, in front of the stoop, complete with a huge red bow, sits a brand new, oil slick black, fully loaded Yukon SUV.

“Holy SHIT!” is all that he can say.

The rest of the day passes quietly with people doing various things with various other people. Like an excited teenager, Sam keeps looking for excuses to drive the Yukon. Earlier, Ally told him we were short of milk so Sam eagerly volunteered to go to the variety store in town; about a ten minute drive. He came back about two hours later and… he forgot the milk! When he bolted out the door to go again, we all laughed because we didn’t actually need it and the variety store was most likely closed since it was Christmas day. Sam returned from that trip about an hour later; “He Al, the variety store isn’t open! It’s Christmas day you know!”

Alyssa, in mock apology, said; “Oh… sorry sweetie. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” It was difficult for the rest of us to keep from bursting!

Alyssa, pointing to a box near the front door, then said; “That stuff is for the church but you don’t have to take it today…”

He interrupted; “I’m on it!” We haven’t seen him since.

A couple of hours ago Kristel, who was helping in the kitchen, asked me if we could talk privately in the living room. We sat down on the couch and she said; “Sylvia… it’s hard to know where to start but, I think it’s fair to say that I’ve been a supreme bitch to you ever since we met.”

I was hesitant to respond to that; she is my boss after all…

She continues; “I’m sorry… you don’t have to answer that but we both know it’s true. You have every reason to hate me but I hope I can change that in time. I guess the worst though was the armoire thing and I know it was confusing for you since you ended up liking it but… I need to confess that my motives… were not honourable.”

I suspected all along that she did it out of hatred but to actually hear from her mouth made me start to tear up.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I have no excuse, it’s just that… you’re so pretty and smart and everybody likes you… I was jealous and I lashed out.”

I asked; “Why me?”

“Because… you were… you are… the woman I have always wanted to be. I have had to be tough to get where I am and it’s made me into this mean, spiteful, selfish person whom I hate. It’s not an excuse, Sylvia, but I cannot describe what it’s like to thoroughly despise yourself.”

“Is that what last night was about?”

She looked straight into my eyes and said; ‘Yes! At least that was part of it. Last night was like… like a cleansing, among other things… but it changed me Sylvia. I could feel it! I just wish I could have taken all fifty lashes.”

I was pretty sure I knew the answer but I asked anyway; “Why?”

“For him… for Sam… it’s hard to explain… I’ve been coming here for over two years and, every time I left, I cried because… I wanted… I always wanted… to call him ‘My Master’ and do the ‘perfect slave’ thing… I just… I don’t know exactly why but I just couldn’t.”

I suddenly felt sorry for her despite all that had happened; “I think I do understand, Kristel, at least some of it.

Is that why you were fighting with Sam the other night? So he would do this for you?”

She looked ashamed as she answered; “Well… yes but… that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been pestering him for months but… well, you know… for a guy that makes a living by whipping women, he’s actually such a pussycat!”

I agreed; “He is a pretty rare breed.”

She continued; “He is! And I knew he didn’t want to inflict that kind of suffering on anybody—not even me. But, I also knew that he understood why I needed it so bad. I was pretty selfish, Sylvia, I saw an opportunity to get what I wanted by forcing him to do something he hated. And he did it for only one reason—because, despite my bitchiness, he loves me just like he loves all of you. I know how hard he practiced… he’s a very special guy and I’ve treated him like shit! I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make it up to him.”

“So… things will be different now?”

She smiled but I could see tears in her eyes too as she said; “Oh yes! They will! And at work too, Sylvia. I’m going to do everything I can to make this up to you. Things will be a lot better, you’ll see!”

I began to chuckle a bit and said; “You know… you sound a little like Scrooge talking to Bob Cratchit.”

We both started to laugh then she said; “Well… it is Christmas!”

We laughed some more then hugged then cried and hugged. It was nice and I knew she was going to good to her word.

Sam finally shows up just as we’re setting the table almost three hours after he left and Alyssa teases; “When I said the church I didn’t mean the one in Rome!”

He kids back; “Well… you should have been more specific!”

As we all get settled in our seats Sam stands and says; “Not to diminish the religious aspects of this day in any way but, ultimately this is what Christmas is all about to me; good people… good friends sitting together at Christmas dinner. I know for a few it wasn’t easy but we can’t tell you enough, how glad we are that you could join us. I lift my glass to you all…”

We go around the table clinking glasses then Isabella says; “Okay… let’s EAT!”

The dinner progresses wonderfully. At any one time throughout the day there were at least six people working in the kitchen so we ended up with a great meal of turkey and ‘all the fixins’—enough to feed a small country. Everyone was in a constant state of chewing, chatter, and laughter—even Kristel. Teri was right; all I want for Christmas next year is to be invited back here.

As dinner winds down Sam again stands and says; “Well, I need to walk off some of this fabulous meal… I am humbled by the presence of such culinary genius and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.”

Again we clink glasses then Alyssa runs to the kitchen as Sam starts to collect some dishes.

Isabella stops him; “No, no. Shoo now. Well take care of this.”

He thanks her, excuses himself from the table, and starts for the door, then turns back to us. “Oh, don’t forget the whip poker… you should get the ties in the jar and maybe well start in an hour or so.”

Again he turns for the door but Alyssa stops him as she rushes from the kitchen with a rye and ginger and a lit cigar. As he takes the items he smiles a smile that says thank you better than any words could. He kisses her then walks out the door.

As we clean up I ask Lilly; “What does he mean by ‘put the ties in the jar’?”

Lilly explains; “Oh… well if you sign up for the game you write down your favourite tie… you know, the activity you liked the best in one of your sessions. You write that down and put it in the jar then, if you lose you reach into the jar and pick one… it may not be the one you wrote of course. Just pray it’s not Kristel’s!”

I laugh a bit but… I shudder at the thought.

Lilly continues; “Actually I’m having a bit of fun here. You can trade if it’s something you don’t like or Sam will make adjustments… you know, some people are maybe more flexible…whatever. It’s for fun, Syl… nobody’s out to hurt or even scare anybody. And, trust me on this, even if you lose… you win!”

Sam returns from his walk after an hour or so and asks if we’re all ready for the game. We have entered our favourites in the jar and set two card tables together with eight seats. Teri, Malsa, Lilly, and Alyssa have elected not to play but the rest of us are in for the proverbial ‘penny and pound’.

The first several hands are fairly even and, after about forty five minutes, we are equal, left with only bra and panties. There has been lots of cackling and chortling at the table as well as heckling from the “spectators”—especially Sam and Isabella.

“Izzy, you have to be the worlds worst, nymphomaniac poker player!”

Isabella retorts; “Oh yeah? Well why don’t you sit in for a few hands? I’d have you buck naked in ten minutes!”

The next hand is lost by Penelope who sighs and dutifully removes her bra revealing a pair of tiny pert little boobs. Then she puts her hands behind her back, sticks her chest out and closes her eyes. Immediately, and with much merriment, everyone, including our spectators, takes a turn at fondling and/or tweaking her nipples. Feeling obliged, I happily follow suit. It seems there are a couple of traditions to this game that I still need to learn.

Isabella drops the next hand and her torment lasts longer as we cannot help but linger, squeezing and fondling those magnificent orbs. We then play another hand… and I lose.

Somewhat reluctantly I slowly remove the bra amid taunts of “Take it of girlfriend” and “Let’s have a look at those casabas”. I set myself in position and they start into me right away. It seems to go on forever and when they finally are satisfied, Kendall gets up, comes behind me and begins to massage my breasts. The others are teasing; “Ohhhhh… what have we here?” and “She’s going to do her right here on the table!” She caresses and squeezes then bends down, kisses my nipples and returns to her seat. I am beet red and sure that there is a little puddle on my chair.

Kristel drops the next hand. We are hesitant to touch her welt covered body even though the marks are already fading. Sam comes over and, from behind begins to fondle her lovely boobs then pinches her nipples enough to cause her to jump and squeak; “Ooooo…” We all then take a turn when we realize that the lash had never touched her breasts.

Isabella loses again and, to the sounds of hoots and applause, she stands, turns, slides her thong panties to the floor, then bends over and grabs her knees. Each one of us the gets up and gives her a single, hard spank although Colleen gave her a few pats to her labia for good measure.

I get through the next few hands unscathed while some others parted with there bras and untouched nipples but then… I lose again!

I shed my panties and take the spanks then Kendall, wearing only panties now, comes to me and says: “Spread ‘em sweety.”

I do as instructed and she begins to rub my labia and sticks two fingers in my vagina. She rubs for about thirty seconds accompanied by taunts of “Rub-A-Dub-Dub!” and “Get a room!” then she again returns to her chair. My face cannot get any redder as I meekly sit back in my seat. Geez Kendall!

The next hand is the final loss for Isabella and she chooses “Straight pillar” from the jar. The winner of the hand is Kristel so they are now out of the game.

Kendall loses the next two hands and draws “Reverse T Hogtie”. The “expert” poker play didn’t seem to try too hard to win. She and winner Colleen are now out as well.

Helen now loses two in a row and gets “T Bar” as she and Gloria join the others, leaving Penelope and me and, of course, I lose the last hand.

As each loser drew from the jar the others would say “Ohhhhh…” but the loudest was for Kendall’s “Reverse T” and mine, the “High Chair”. My temporary new “Master”, Penelope simply answered; “You’ll see!” when I asked what the heck the high chair was.

Sam motions for the naked losers to follow him to the studio and, once inside, we sit together on a bench by the main wall. He has Isabella put on a pair of wrist cuffs and lock them together then, after retrieving a large amount of rope, motions for her to stand with her legs together and her back against one of the main barn pillars. He has her step up on a short stool and then asks her to stand on her toes and reach up as high as she can. Standing on a small ladder stool, he pulls her wrists higher still and affixes the cuffs to a ring mounted rope. He adjusts the rope so that Isabella can just barely stand on her toes. Now he wraps no less than seven ropes, four times around the pillar; across her ankles, then her knees, then just below her crotch. One across her tummy, then one just below her boobs, one just above her boobs, and lastly one across, and into, her mouth. Going back to the bottom he gives each rope end a tug and ties them off. It is remarkable how fast he is able to complete the bind. Now he says something to her then bends down and removes the stool.

Isabella is now hanging there completely immobile; she can’t even move her head and her luscious breasts are jutting forward, just aching to be toyed with. Sam uses a two way to call Alyssa and have her send Kristel to the studio then he motions for Helen to follow him to the T bar.

Helen leans her back against the padded metal crosspiece at the top of the four foot high T bar. He then has her spread her feet quite a bit and quickly ties her ankles to rings in the floor. He takes her arms behind her and binds her wrists together then he kneels and slowly pulls down on the rope forcing Helen to arch her back over the T more and more. She doesn’t complain but he stops when she begins to moan and ties the rope off. As he forced her back to arch, her legs stretched tight so now she too was immobile except for her head. He kissed her and asked if she was okay and, when she said she was, he inserted a ball gag and fastened it. Again he called Alyssa and asked for Gloria. Just then Kristel, now in a bathrobe, entered the barn.

She walks straight to Isabella and says; “Oooooo… so you’re my little slave now are you?”

Through her gag Isabella says; “Uh huh.”

Kristel picks up a nearby horse hair flogger and asks; “Would my little slave enjoy the touch of the pony’s tail?”

Isabella eagerly answers; “Uh HUH!”

She starts at her feet and rhythmically walks the whip up her body, similar to how Sam did it with Ally. Izzy is already moaning but she can only pull a wee bit against her ropes. Sam watches for a bit to ensure that Isabella is okay then finishes Helen’s bind. Gloria now enters the barn and Sam uses the two way again and asks Alyssa to send Teri to keep an eye on them while he moves to Kendall’s bind.

Gloria picks up an electric wand and proceeds to slowly torment Helen who writhes and squeals as the low current radiates through her. Sam watches until Teri arrives then motions for Kendall.

To the sounds of Helen’s squealing and Isabella’s orgasm, Sam sets to work on Kendall. Kristel is now pressing a snow cone vibrator against Izzy’s clit and fondling her breasts. She has already climaxed but Kristel does not let up and Isabella is going nuts!

Sam wraps a rope several times around Kendall’s hips then attaches a long rope to the front and another to the back of the hip rope. He now binds her wrists together behind her pack leaving about eight feet dangling. He has her sit on the floor and spread her legs apart very wide then attaches long ropes to both ankles. Pulling each ankle rope a bit he ties them off to more rings in the floor. He hits a switch which lowers the end of a winch cable almost to her head then securely ties the ends of the front and back hip ropes. Sam now asks Kendall to lie on her back and, after confirming that she is ready, hits the switch. The winch pulls at her hips lifting them up and off the ground. He stops the winch when the ankle ropes are taut leaving Kendall completely upside down and spread… in the shape of a T. Sam calls on the two way for Colleen then finishes Kendall’s bind by pulling the wrist rope until her arms are straight back then securing to a post. He bends down, gives her a little kiss and installs a ball gag.

As Colleen enters, Isabella, sweating like a stevedore, is squealing as Kristel brings on her third eruption with an electric wand. Gloria has switched to a dildo vibrator and Helen is begging her to remove it as she comes down from her first climax. Teri repositions so she can see all three victims as Colleen moves to Kendall. I have learned that Colleen too is very gay and very orgasmic. That is; she loves to have orgasms and she loves to give orgasms. She immediately begins to rub and kiss Kendall’s unbelievably accessible pussy then she picks up and lubes a dildo vibrator and slowly slides it down into Kendall’s wide open vagina. Because of her position the dildo stays in by itself leaving Colleen free to do other things. Kendall begins to moan and pull at her ropes just as Sam motions for me to join him. Damn! I would love to keep observing this.

Watching the three victims and their “masters” has got me pretty aroused but I am a little afraid of what the “high chair” might be. It turns out to be a metal pole, about seven feet tall, with four movable padded ‘arms”; two at  waist height and two at shoulder height. Sam moves the two lower arms almost together then lifts me and sits me on them with my back against the pole. The cold metal makes me gasp. He moves my legs gently up, over, and behind the arms then he bends my legs until my heels touch my butt. Now, using two leather belts, he firmly binds my legs to the arms. He wraps two more belts around me and the pole, one at my waist and the other above my boobs, to pull me back tight against it. Now he swings the upper arms of the chair so that they are straight out and has me grab the ends with my hands. He uses four smaller belts to secure my arms to, and parallel with, the chair’s arms. Now he slowly swings the upper bars back, more and more, until my arms are almost straight back behind me. My moan tells him when to stop and lock them down. He now swings the lower arms slowly back until my legs are straight out to the side then he locks them in place.

Sam asks me if I’m okay and I say I am but, holy crap, I’m stretched tight! Now he puts a little cushion behind my head and then inserts a ball gag with extra long straps that go right around the pole. He pulls my head fairly tight against the pole and secures the gag.

I am now unable to move anything other than my toes and eyelids. As Sam calls for Penelope I feel myself dripping… and listen for the others.

I can hear the wood creaking as Kendall convulses against her ropes. I smile at the vision of her engulfed in the throws of yet another ripper. I can hear the muffled squeals and screams of Isabella and Helen as more of the girls have joined Kristel and Gloria.

I see Penelope walking towards me. Lovely Penelope. Petit Penelope. Penelope, who loves the whips.

As she lashes the whip across my open, indefensible vagina, I dream of the coming night with Kendall and pray that Sam will not forget me when he prepares the invitations for next year.

Alyssa Eaglefeather  (The Armoire - Chapter 4)

- by Sam Darquesied

A few eyes turned my way when I came in the café and I couldn’t help but smile as a couple of husbands got scolded by jealous partners. Just like any woman I’ve ever met, I am always flattered by the attention and I still blush when it is obvious that I am being “visually” undressed by strangers but, I’ve never received the interest that she is now getting as she breezes through the restaurant toward my table.

The room gets noticeably quiet as she walks in, waves to me, and approaches. She is wearing a plain, white, embroidered sheer blouse over a knit tank and a simple dot print cotton skirt that elegantly sways with her hips. Her feet are almost bare, save for tiny sandals with microscopic straps. It is clearly evident that all the men, and many women, in this room, are combating the urge to ravage her, here and now.

Alyssa Eaglefeather, traffic stopping gorgeous, full blooded Anishinaabe, and undisputed life partner of Sam Darquesied. It is difficult to avoid jealousy but the moment she smiles, and flashes those incredible, green eyes, you are just glad to know her.

She gives me a kiss on the cheek, sits and clasps my hands, and we spend the next few minutes small-talking our way through lunch, then I said, “Ally, you promised me the whole story when time permitted, so… lay it on me, baby!”

“It’s a long story, Sylvia,” she says, “but if you’re up for it then why don’t we get a couple of coffees and go to the park and get comfortable.”

After finding a nice shady spot she begins, “Well… we met at a computer seminar; I was still working as a coder then and he was there for the company that bought his business. They paid him a humungous pile of money and part of the deal was that he stayed on for a year to ease the transition. According to him, some no-nothing CEO insisted that he attend. His real name is Thomas Dareson and he was a pretty well known troubleshooter so I already knew who he was from magazine articles and such.

“Anyway… there was this contest where partnered seminar attendees could submit a little piece of number crunching code and the best one would win the partners a dinner for two. The partner selection was pretty dismal and I never even considered asking someone at his level so, I wasn’t going to bother, but then… he asked me! We ended up using my laptop in my suite and it only took us about forty five minutes to write the routine. We submitted it just in time then agreed to get together at the seven o’clock session…”

* * Alyssa’s Story Begins * *

Just before seven, I entered the conference room and saw Tom way on the other side of the hall talking with the organizer and sponsor of the seminar. Tom must have been watching for me because he immediately caught my attention and waved me over.

Tom introduced us, “Rick this is Alyssa Eaglefeather. Alyssa this is Richard Singleton.”

Richard said, “Very pleased to meet you. Wow Thomas, you definitely know how to pick ‘em!”

I blushed and Tom said, “No, no. We’re just friends.”

We all sat together near the back then, after a few minutes, Richard said he had to go to the stage. While the first speaker was up Tom kept pretending to doze off and I playfully nudged him awake. We were both giggling enough to receive some admonishing glares from surrounding seats. We applauded politely as the speaker left the stage then Richard moved to the microphone and said, “Okay… the winner of the dinner is… team twenty seven… team number twenty seven.”

We just sat there for a few seconds and waited for the winners to respond. Then Tom looked at his receipt and said, “Oh… that’ us!”

We went up to the stage and received the prize from Richard then, as we started to go back to our seats he waved us over to a side entrance, “Listen Thomas, we both know that these sessions are a complete waste of time for you.”

Tom answered, “Thanks Rick but I have to sign the log at each session so…”

Richard interrupted, “I’ve signed you in for all the remaining sessions, Alyssa too so… go and enjoy the rest of the weekend.”

We looked at each other for a moment then heartily thanked Richard, and—like two naughty children—scurried out the door.

Tom asked if I had eaten yet and, since I hadn’t, we agreed that it was as good a time as any so we headed for the dining room.

I said, “I think your friend is trying to set us up!”

Tom answered, “Aw… Richard’s a good guy. I’ve known him for years and, ever since my divorce, everybody’s been trying to set me up.”

“How long were you married?”

As the maitre de led us to a table Tom said, “Twenty-six years.”

As we are seated and given menus I said, “Twenty-six years? That’s a long time before a divorce.”

Tom explained, “It’s a long story but the ‘Readers Digest’ version is… a couple of years ago I decided to devote more time to my business. I was doing okay but I had a couple of ideas… anyway, I ended up putting in about fifteen hours a day, needless to say, essentially ignoring Maryellen… my wife. One thing led to another and she met this guy Gary, a dentist, and they had a lot in common, especially gardening, and the next thing I know, she’s suggesting we split… it was a little over a year ago.”

I ask, “Was it ugly?”

“No… not at all. Gary is quite well to do so I got the house. It was completely amicable; we both still love each other, we’re just not IN love anymore… you know?”

I said, “We must have been signing our divorce papers just about the same time.”

“Oh? How long were you married?”

I answered, “Almost one year.”

Tom, a little surprised, asked, “Only a year? What happened?”

“He started beating me up.”

Tom, genuinely concerned said, “Oh geez, Alyssa… I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay… it wasn’t your fault.”

He continued, “Yeah, I know but… speaking as a man, I would like to apologize on behalf of my entire gender. We can be remarkably stupid sometimes.”

I laughed at his assessment then he asked, “So… what about now? You seeing somebody?”

“Not really, I got out of a fairly long relationship about four months ago.”

He said, “We’ll I hope that one was a little less violent.”

I looked down and didn’t answer then Tom said, “Don’t tell me… did he hit you too?” I nodded that he did.

“I’m sorry Alyssa… you know; I knew this couple… real nice folks, but he got arrested for hitting his wife and everybody was stunned. I did some research online and discovered that this kind of thing happens way too often.”

After the waiter took our food and drink order he Tom asked, “Was it an on going thing or sudden?”

“It was sudden. We had been dating for about four months and—long story short--I asked him to… do something. It didn’t go well and he punched me.”

“Do you mind if I ask what it was you wanted him to do?”

I was hesitant to answer and he said, “Oh, I’m sorry… I’m prying too much…”

I wasn’t sure why but I was comfortable with Tom so I said, “No, it’s okay… I wanted him to… spank me.”

I watched his response but, there was no hint of judgment or distaste; his reaction was as if I had said “I wanted him to dance.”

Tom asked, “What happened?”

“Well, we talked about it… you know… that I wanted to try it and… Bruce seemed okay with it so, one day, when he pulled in the driveway, I stripped and bent over the table. He was surprised when he came in but then he kind of knew… so he smacked my bum a couple of times but then, all of a sudden, he became this different guy. He pulled his pants down and tried to… you know… do me in my… rear end. I didn’t want that at all, so I rolled away but then he got real mad. He said, if all I wanted was for him to hurt me… then he punched me in the face.”

Tom winced when I said “punched” and asked, “Did he keep hitting?”

“No… I screamed as loud as I could and a neighbour came in right away. The police arrested Bruce and… well… that was that.”

Tom said, “Again, Alyssa, I’m real sorry. You have to know that none of that was your fault in any way.”

I told him I knew that now, and then I asked him, “What would you have done if you were there?”

“I’d have killed the weasel… four times!”

I laughed and said, “No… I mean if you were him?”

He replied, “Oh… you mean if we were dating and I found you in the kitchen? Well, let’s see, I’m dating this drop dead gorgeous girl and I find her naked and asking me to spank her… hmmmm… you know… I could live with that!”

We both laughed and he continued, “You know… I couldn’t help but notice a bookmark on your web browser… it was to a bondage story archive…”

I interrupted, “And just how did you know what it was?”

“Well… I’ve been there many times myself. It’s a bit of a fantasy of mine too… not the spanking per se, but bondage and stuff… but I find most of the stories portray the guy as a selfish pervert who treats the woman like dirt. You know… forcing her to do his buddies and stuff…”

I agreed and asked, “And you don’t like that?”

“No… I think many of these writers miss the point. A woman might like to be tied naked and whipped but, for it to work, I mean, really work, she has to do that with a guy she can trust completely. And, conversely, the guy has to be worthy of that trust. He has to care for her deeply and only have her in mind, not himself, when he does things to her. Sure the guy’s going to be horny and want to have sex but, that’ll come and… you know what they say… it’s not so much the destination as it is the journey… I don’t think I’m explaining it very well…”

I responded, “On the contrary, I think you’re doing very well!”

We talked for a long time after that. Then we left the hotel and went for a long walk and, after a half hour or so, I found I was… falling for him a bit. He held my hand as we ran across a street and we continued to hold hands all the way back. Before we went inside I put my arms around him and told that I had a really nice night and then we kissed.

It was soft and deep and long. He caressed my mouth and tongue with his… it was SO nice! I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, this is the guy I’ve been waiting for. The twenty year age difference didn’t matter even a little bit. When the kiss ended he smiled and said, “If you’re ever looking for a spanking buddy, give me a call.” Blushing again, I smiled back and then we went through the revolving door.

As I stepped into the lobby I suddenly stopped, turned and said, “What about tonight?”

I couldn’t believe I said that out loud! I put my hand to my mouth; I was SO embarrassed! But I knew he was a gentleman and would say something clever to get me out of this.

“Uh… well, okay… if you’re sure.”

I didn’t expect that! I had obviously taken him by surprise but he answered like it was a perfectly natural request. I should say something like… I was kidding. But then I remembered something my dad used to say, “Only risk takers have a chance to win.” So, I said, “I can come to your room in a half hour or so… if that’s okay.”

Again, in a non-judgmental tone he answered, “That’ll be fine… oh, can you do me a little favour? If you have them, could you change into a skirt and blouse?”

I was a little puzzled but I did have them so I agreed and we went to our rooms.

I was excited but very anxious as I stood in front of his door. I always carried a riding crop in my suitcase and I had put in a bag and brought it with me. I used it on myself when I fantasized alone at night but now I wasn’t sure how I would explain its presence. After a full minute I finally built up the nerve to knock. He answered and invited me in.

I was so nervous; I didn’t know what to say or do so I just handed him the bag, “Here! I… had this… maybe you want to use it…I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.”

He took the crop out of the bag and, without questioning why I had it, simply said, “Cool!”

Then I asked, “Should I… uh… just undress and… uh… bend over…”

Abruptly he said, “No. Actually I think we should talk first and get things straight.”

He offered me a chair then continued, “First off, I thought it might be more interesting if we had a scenario or something. I thought it might be more fun than just diving into the spanking thing.”

“Scenario? What do you mean?”

Tom said, “You know… like… maybe you’re a secretary and I’m your boss and I call you on the carpet because of some mistake… something like that.”

It did sound more interesting so I asked, “Okay… what would we do exactly?”

He replied, “We can just play that by ear and see how it goes… which brings me to another point. Uh… aside from the kiss, we have never been intimate but, eventually, you’re going to be naked and I’m going to be using this crop so I need you to tell me what’s okay and what isn’t.”

I didn’t really know what to tell him. “Oh… I’ve never had anybody do this for me so I’m not sure but maybe, if it’s okay, don’t… touch me between my legs… with your hand… for now…”

“That’s okay… um… we should have an out word though. That way you can stop it if I do something you don’t like.”

I said, “Couldn’t I just say stop?”

“Oh yes, but I thought, if you get into the scenario, you might say things like “Stop…please stop”… you know… pretending it was real. So we might want to use a word that in no way would fit.”

“Like what?”

Tom looked around then picked up a city brochure from the desk, “What about this?”

“Philadelphia?”

He smiled and said, “Well, I can’t imagine you would use it in the scenario like “Oh stop…please don’t Philadelphia me!”

I laughed and agreed then asked, “What should we do now?”

Tom said, “You be Miss Jones and go stand by the door and I’ll be Mr. Smith and I’ll call you in… like it’s my office. And then we’ll just wing it.”

My anxiety had pretty much been replaced by my excitement and, as I stood and waited by the door, I felt my vagina begin to moisten.

“Miss Jones? Come in here please.”

I went over and stood right in front of him and he whispered that I should back up a bit—like there’s a desk between us.

“Miss Jones, It has come to my attention that your dictation skills have shown very little improvement over the past few weeks.”

As “Miss Jones” I answered, “I’m… uh sorry…. uh… I’ll do better?”

A very stern “Mr. Smith” said, “Constantly being sorry is not acceptable in this office, Miss Jones and I have lost all my patience. I’m going to have to let you go.”

I began to get it and Tom was right, it was kind of fun, “Oh please, Mr. Smith, I really need this job. I promise I’ll do better.”

He smiled and winked then snapped back to stern, “It’s too late for more promises, Miss Jones. You’ve promised before but your efforts have always been mediocre at best. I’ve made my decision.”

Begging, I responded, “Please, Mr. Smith, is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Anything at all?”

He paused then said, “We’ll, there would have to be punishment and you would have to prove that you are sincere and will always do your very best to obey me without question.”

Eagerly I responded, “Oh thank you Mr. Smith. I will take my punishment and I will do my very best.”

Flatly, Mr. Smith said, “Very well… please remove your blouse.”

Just his words doubled my excitement and my arousal but, pretending to be shocked, I said, “Uh… excuse me?”

Tom abruptly rose and stood right beside me, “Miss Jones! You see, this has always been the problem hasn’t it? In one breath you promise to do your best to obey but in the next you immediately question me. Now… let’s try again shall we? Miss Jones… PLEASE remove your blouse!”

“Yyyyes… Mr. Ssssmith.” As I began to undo the buttons I was SO turned on. I thought to myself, “Please let Tom be the man I hope he is. Please don’t let this go bad.” I slid the blouse off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

Tom then said, “Now Miss Jones, please remove your brassiere.”

Meekly I complied, “Yyyyes… Mr. Ssssmith.”

I unhooked the clasp and slid the straps over my arms then let the bra fall. Tom whispered “Wow!” and we both began to giggle.

We quickly composed ourselves the Tom gave me a tap on my breast with the crop. “Was that too hard?’

I told him it wasn’t and he could go harder so he tried a few, progressively stronger strikes to my boobs until I winced and said, “Ow ow ow… that’s about it Tom. I think that’s as hard as you should go.”

For the rest of the evening he never hit harder that that last one. I was getting pretty sure that he was the guy.

Tom then said, “Please remove your skirt now, Miss Jones.”

In character I said, “Mr. Smith, I’m not sure I want to… OW… OW… I’M SORRY…MR. SMITH… I’M SORRY!”

He had given me a slap across my nipple with the crop—not too hard but I had never been hit there before and it stung. I obeyed and unzipped the skirt and let it fall.

An obviously impressed Tom; said “Jesus!” and I began to giggle again.

He waited a bit while I composed myself then said, “Now your panties, Miss Jones.”

I was really beginning to enjoy the “scenario” and I was really beginning to like him so, to give him a bit of a show, I turned, grasped the waist of the panties and slowly bent down sliding the panties to the floor as I went. When I stood back up Tom said, “And now Miss Jones… I think I need a very, very… cold shower!”

We both burst out laughing and it took over a minute for us to settle down. I had to marvel at my lack of embarrassment as I stood stark naked in front of this man. I was very aroused and I liked—really liked—the way he looked at me. I was pleased that he liked what he saw.

Recomposed, Tom said, “Now, Miss Jones please place your hands behind your back and spread your feet as far as you can.”

As I did what he asked he walked around behind me then… “Ow… OW!” He smacked me twice on the butt with the crop.

With every “Miss Jones” I get a smack, “You are disappointing me again, Miss Jones!” SMACK! “I asked you to spread as far as you could, Miss Jones” SMACK! “But you are NOT spread as far as you can, are you Miss Jones?” SMACK!

“OW… OW… No, Mr. Smith… OW… I can do better…OW!” I spread as far as I could without toppling over then he moved to stand in front of me and began to stroke my breast with the crop. My arousal began to build again and I was pretty sure I could feel my vagina dripping.

“That’s more like it, Miss Jones but your lack of effort merits some whipping doesn’t it?”

His caressing with the crop was adding fuel to my fire and I began to pant a bit, “Yes… Mister…. Smith.”

Tom continued, “Miss Jones, I am going to whip you on your buttocks and your breasts. How many strokes of the crop should I use, Miss Jones?”

His use of the word “buttocks” made me giggle again but I recovered quickly and said, “Ten Mr. Smith... OW…OWWW!” He smacked me once on each nipple.

“Be more specific, Miss Jones!” he insisted.

Panting a little harder I answered, “Ten on my bum, Mr. Smith and ten on my breasts.”

Tom said; Very well, Miss Jones… and you must count out each one.”

Immediately he started on my butt. “Ow… one… OW… two… OWWW… three…” Then he moved in front to attack my boobs but…

“Well… what do we have here?” He pulled the end of the crop across my vagina and over my clitoris. The touch shot my arousal up almost, but not quite, through the roof. Then he showed me the crop—it was soaking wet!

He leaned close and whispered, “Is it okay if I touch you there with the crop?”

I answered, “Yes… that’s okay… you can touch me, if you like… with your hands. You can touch me anywhere you want… it was a stupid rule.”

He smiled and moved back. “Does standing naked before me get you sexually excited, Miss Jones?”

I looked into his eyes and said, “Oh YES… very much, sir!” I wanted him to know my answer was for real so I didn’t use “Mr. Smith”.

Tom went on, “Would you like me to touch you between your legs until you climax, Miss Jones?”

Breathless now and still looking in his eyes I said, “Oh Yes, sir… that would be wonderful… soon PLEASE, sir!”

He laughed a little then asked, “And what would you do in return for my generosity?”

Surprising myself a little but without hesitation I answered, “I will lay beside you in your bed tonight, sir.”

He moved in close again and said, “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

I gazed deep into his blue eyes and said, “I’m absolutely sure, Tommy.”

Then he knelt down, gently slid two fingers into me, and used his thumb to massage my clit. His fingers felt like soft, warm extensions of my own body as he moved them in and out, deftly stoking my G-spot. He was moving his thumb in tender circles on my clit and began to sweetly fondle my breast with his other hand. My insides were on fire like they had never been before and my eruption was imminent.

“OHHHHHHHHHhhhhh… TOMMY!” The immediate and intense convulsions in my belly made me grind into his hand as my floodgates burst open. He pressed his hand and thumb harder to meet my undulations. I had to put my hands on his shoulders to keep from falling over as my legs went rigid.

“DON’T STOP TOMMY… OKAY… DON’T STOP!” I was holding my breath now, pushing against the spasms that coiled through my abdomen like a corkscrew. He never abandoned me. He stayed with me, rubbing and massaging and holding me—he was my protector.

“OHGAWD… OHGEEZZZZ!” It felt like my uterus was coiling itself around my vagina, even as the tremors began to ebb. Tommy could tell and he slowed and softened his touching. My legs began to buckle but he quickly reached around my hips and held me up. As I lost all my strength, the feeling inside my body changed to that of a wonderfully warm, creamy liquid being pumped through me from my toes to the top of my head.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… I let everything go and slumped into his arms. He picked me up like I was made of straw then lay me on the bed and sat beside me.

Then Tommy leaned down, supporting himself with his elbows, so his face was very near mine and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.” was all I could muster.

Then he said, “Can I tell you something Alyssa? When I said ‘WOW’ earlier it was because there is no word in the English language that truly conveys how beautiful you are.” Then he kissed me. Not a passionate kiss; he knew I was too weak for that. It was more of a soft caress—it was superb.

Tommy got up then and returned with a cool, moist washcloth with which he gently wiped my face and arms. I was beginning to get my wits back and motioned for him to lean closer. I put my arms around him and kissed him with all the passion and love that was in me, and he kissed back—really kissed back! When our lips finally parted I looked into his eyes and whispered, “WOW!”

After a few minutes I asked, “So… what’s next? You still haven’s actually spanked me yet, you know.”

Tommy laughed and said, “Well I figured you have just about had it for tonight.”

“Oh no, I’m okay. I just needed a little rest, that’s all.” As I spoke I hopped out of bed, moved back to where I was before, crossed my wrists behind my back and began to spread my legs.”

Tommy stopped me, “Uh… no… Miss Jones. Keep your feet together please.”

He stood and approached me and got back into character, “Miss Jones, I’m going to bind your hands now.”

As he went to the washroom I became angry with myself because I was a little afraid. I was sure he was the man I had longed for all these years but the bad experiences in the past had jaded me. I thought to myself, “I don’t care! I’m going to let him tie me and do whatever he wants to me. I NEED to trust him! I need this so bad.”

He came back with the belt from his bathrobe and wrapped it around my wrists a few times then placed the ends in my hand and said, “You have to hang on to them or it’ll just fall off.”

I smiled and I think it was right then when I fell in love with him.

He got a straight backed desk chair and placed it in front of me, then sat and motioned for me to lie across his lap. I complied without hesitation and he said, “Now, Miss Jones, this will be the last of your punishment for tonight. So, how many spanks do you think you deserve?”

I eagerly answered, “Oh… at least one hundred, Mr. Smith.”

“A hundred! Geez Al, give me a break!”

Nobody called me that, not even my girlfriend Wendy; sometimes “Ally” but never “Al”. I never liked it but when he said it was different when he said it… I liked it; it was endearing. It would be our thing.

He began to rub his hand all around my bum and it felt very pleasant… then he gave me a smack. It wasn’t very hard so I turned my head to look at him and said, “You can hit harder if you want Tommy.”

He replied, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m good with that.”

I said, “It’s fine; in fact, it’s perfect Tommy.”

My vagina relubricated as soon as I lay on his lap and his rubbing and the spank relit the flame in my tummy but I wanted this to be his turn so, on his next smack, I said, “Two… but I won’t… I won’t do what you ask!”

Puzzled, Tommy said, “What?”

I looked back at him and responded, “Just keep spanking, okay?”

Each smack fanned the flames and each time he rubbed I wanted to tell him to slide his hand between my legs but I kept saying, “Fifteen… but I won’t do it!”

After five more I finally said, “Twenty… and I relent… I will do what you ask…”

I turned my head to look at him and finished, “I will make love to you tonight. I will!”

“rrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRUh!” A most satisfying early morning stretch! I was alone in the bed but I could hear the shower running in the bathroom. I curled up in the comforter and contemplated the previous night. We had indeed made love and it was… in a way… like my first time. I had many previous sexual relations, of course, but most were; him on top, hump - hump - hump, thankyou and goodnight. But last night was SO different…

As we were getting into the bed, me naked and him still in sweatpants, he stopped and said, “There’s something I’d like you always to remember… when it comes to this stuff; sex, bondage, any of that… the ball is always in your court, okay? Don’t ever let me do anything that you don’t like… it’s only fun for me if I know, really know, that it’s fun for you too.”

We were looking into each others eyes as he spoke it was easy to tell that he was sincere. I answered, “Okay.”

“And there’s a little promise I’d like you to make… don’t ever fake it, okay? That’s important to me… maybe it’s an ego thing but I need to know that what I’m doing to you is really turning you on. If it isn’t I need you to tell me, okay?”

I grasped his face, touched my forehead to his and whispered, “I will, Tommy but there’s something you need to know too. Before, when you touched me and made me come with your hands… it was the best… strongest… orgasm I have ever had. You don’t know how close I was to fainting. I’m not exaggerating, Tommy… I’m not trying to boost your ego. It’s the truth and it always will be.”

We kissed then; the long, soft, deep kiss that he does so well. As we slid under the covers, into a nice spoon with him behind, I thought I must find a way to let him know that his every touch sends shivers down my spine. Even though I had promised to make love he wasn’t pushing it. He had his arm over me and was gently rubbing my tummy which, in itself, was arousing but I grasped his hand and moved it to my breast. With a touch as light as a feather he swirled his fingers in spirals up my boob. He drew little circles around my nipple then kneaded the bud between his forefinger and thumb. He repeated the process, over and over, on both breasts. It was like being bathed in warm milk. “mmmmmmmmmmmm….”

I could feel his arousal press against my bum through his sweatpants and, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I turned to face him then threw the covers off and pulled the pants down to his ankles. My arousal increased as, for the first time, I saw his circumcised cock, fully erect and waiting. He was a perfect size, not huge but not small by any means. His hands were on my waist and he patiently let me go at my own speed as I straddled his hips and slowly slid him into me.

I began to hump like I had always done but he immediately stopped me and changed my motion to a sort of wave that rubbed our pubes together and naturally moved him in and out. Panting quite a bit, he said, “Let me know when you come, okay?”

I was breathless and very close so it was difficult to speak but I said, “Okay… but… the whole… hotel… is going to hear… me yell ‘I’m coming!’”

He was close too and just as breathless, “Pick… oh geez… pick another… word.”

I was so close. “Like…mmmmmm… like… Phila…del… phia?”

He almost shouted, “Just use… ohhhhh… another city!”

I don’t know why I chose it but, “OHHHHHH… NOW TOMMY… UH… CHICAGO…CHICAGO!”

We both blew at the same time and I could feel him blast his juice into me as mine oozed over him. He pulled my head down and we locked into a hard, heavy breathing kiss. He had his arms clamped around me, holding me like I was in a vice. We writhed and moaned and ground our groins into each other for what seemed like hours before we started to ebb. He held on to me and I never wanted him to let me go… not ever!

Our muscles relaxed almost at the same time and I just lay on top of him, like a gooey, boneless blob. Eventually we slowly rolled back into the spoon and drifted off to a most languid sleep.

Tommy came out of the bathroom just as we heard the knock on the door. He tipped the waiter, pulled the cart in and rolled it to my bedside then leaned in and kissed me. “Good morning, gorgeous. D’you sleep okay?”

Stretching again, I answered, “Oh YESssss!”

“I just got OJ and coffee. I figured you’d probably want to go back to your room and change. Maybe, after, we can meet for breakfast.”

I was still in bed, propped up on an elbow, and he was sitting on the edge. We were quiet as we sipped our orange juice and I contemplated a new feeling I had the moment I saw him come out of the shower. All I wanted to do was make him happy… forever! It was a little conundrum because of what he had said last night. I would gladly let him do anything to me if it made him happy, even if I didn’t really like it. But he had said; if I didn’t like something then he would be unhappy. A conundrum indeed.

I broke the silence, “Last night you said that ‘the ball was in my court’, right? And you said that I should only do things that I like, really, really like… is that correct?”

He responded, “Yes, absolutely.”

With that I slid out of bed to my knees then moved in front of him and pulled open his robe. As I leaned down and began to kiss and lick his penis he said, “Oh… you don’t have to…”

I put my finger on his lips and stopped for a moment, “Shhhhh.”

He was already hard when I leaned down again so I slipped him into my mouth. I had never really liked doing this to guys. It had never aroused me and I would just pump and suck to get it over with but now… I was surprised at how good it felt to have Tommy in my mouth. I slowly moved up and down, caressing his penis with my lips and tongue. His moans told me that he was enjoying it and his pleasure aroused me but, this was for him and when he erupted I sucked hard… I wanted everything he had. I kept it up even when he started to jerk against it as his cock, now very sensitive, began to soften. It was the first time in my life that I actually enjoyed doing this for a man.

When I was done I took a sip of orange juice, swished it around a bit, and then swallowed. I didn’t think he’d like to kiss me while I still had remnants of his liquid in my mouth. But, when we did press our lips together, the way he kissed me told me that he wouldn’t have cared.

Then Tommy said, “I have to repeat something that I said last night.”

I asked, “What’s that?”

He responded, “WOW!”

We both laughed and hugged for a bit then we got dressed and I went back to my room. I passed by a few people and most looked at me and smiled. It took me a minute to realize that I was sporting a huge grin that just would not go away.

We met for breakfast and I ate like a Clydesdale; I was amazed at how hungry I was. We chatted and joked and ragged on some of the speakers at the seminar. When we were having our coffee I said, “I’d kind of like to attend the two o’clock session.”

Tommy said, “The Whiteside thing? You’re kidding!”

I protested, “No... I’m not kidding! It’s on VPNs and even you have to admit that he is pretty knowledgeable in that area.”

“Yeah… I guess. He’s such a self-righteous, pompous horse’s rear end though.”

It was only eleven and we had some time to kill so we decided to go for a walk and do a little shopping. We strolled and did some window shopping; I made a mental note to return to a nice little lingerie boutique that we passed. As we turned a corner on to another shop lined avenue Tommy suddenly stopped and said, “Oh… you know there’s a couple of places I need to go that will bore the teeth out of you so why don’t we split for around forty five minutes and meet in that café.”

He pointed to a little bistro and I agreed, kissed him and walked back the way we had come then… I turned and peeked around the corner. He obviously didn’t realize that I had seen the sex toy shop across the street and, after he went in, I crossed and peered in the window then snuck in. I hid behind clothing displays and worked my way to the doorway of a change room near the front counter where Tommy was speaking to the salesgirl. He hadn’t seen me however; the salesgirl had but, she said nothing.

She was an attractive thirty-ish woman wearing a black leather vest and hot pants. She had a goth-like look… dark makeup and jet black hair. “What can I help you with, handsome?”

Tommy replied, “Well… I’m looking for some… er… bondage stuff… I guess.”

Flatly, like she was just selling socks, she asked, “Sub or dom?”

“What?”

She explained, “Are you a submissive or a dominant?”

Clearly uncomfortable Tommy replied, “Oh… well it’s not really like that but… dom I guess.”

Never deviating from her business-like tone, “Boy or girl?”

He replied, “Uh… girl… er… woman… Unbelievable woman.”

“How long have you known her?”

Tommy answered, “About one day.”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh my… she must be pretty special to have you so smitten in just one day.”

Tommy said, “She is that. She’s drop-dead-gorgeous; she’s smart; she’s hip… you know. The room lights up when she comes in… words can’t express…”

I felt tears well up as I heard him say the words… especially hearing him say them to someone else.

She continued, “I’m Luanne by the way… so, does she feel the same?”

Tommy, shaking her hand, softly answered, “Oh God… I hope so.”

It was difficult to keep from rushing over and hugging him to death but I held my ground. Remembering that Luanne knew I was there I realized that she was asking some of these questions for my benefit.

Luanne continued, “Have you done any bondage play yet?”

Tommy, becoming a little less anxious, said, “Yeah… a little spanking… and with a crop.”

She reached up, took a brown leather riding crop from the wall and handed it to him, “Like this one?”

Tommy snapped it in the air a couple of times then, pointing to a black one said, “No… more like that one I think.”

She switched the crop around and Tommy snapped it then said, “Yeah... this is pretty close.”

“How hard did you strike?”

He smacked the crop on the counter twice and answered, “Pretty much like that.”

Luanne then held out her arm, palm up, and said, “Show me… once… here… on my forearm.”

Tommy was reluctant but tapped her lightly with the crop. She laughed a bit and said, “That wasn’t how you hit the counter. Now, come on big boy, show me what you got!”

He shrugged then smacked her on her forearm the way he had used it on me last night. Luanne, not flinching even a little, said, “Okay… that’s not bad for beginners. If she was okay with that then we have something to work with. Were you looking for something specific?”

“Well, I’ve seen these floggers… I think they’re horse hair…”

Luanne walked to an aisle and returned with a flogger, “This is a very good choice… especially if you’re both new. We call it a ‘Pony’s Tail’ and is quite soft… you see?”

Tommy took it from her and felt the hair and gave it back, “Yeah… very nice…soft.”

Luanne continued, “If you learn to use it right you can apply a good variety to your partner. It can be hardly more than a tickle to a pretty good sting. Let me show you… hold out your arm.”

He hesitated a bit but then put out his forearm and Luanne slowly dragged the hair across his skin then, setting the flogger into a windmill motion, she struck him several times, increasing the intensity with each hit until Tommy pulled his arm back. “Oh! Yeah… okay… that last one was pretty good. I’m surprised at how much range…”

Luanne put out her arm and, without prompting, he began to stroke then whip her skin. He stopped when he saw her wince a tiny bit. ‘Oh, sorry…”

Luanne interrupted, “No, no. It was fine. I have to say I’m impressed… you really have a feel for the whip.”

Tommy moved in closer and leaned down on the counter, “Listen… I appreciate what you’re saying… but I don’t need to get stroked here. It is critical that I don’t hurt her so I have to be sure that I do this right.”

From the other side of the counter Luanne matched his position so they were almost nose to nose, “Oh honey… I’m the last person you want to talk to if all you want is your ego stroked. You really do handle it well. The fact that you know the difference between ‘pain for pleasure’ and ‘hurting’, helps you use it properly.”

Tommy stood up and said, “Okay… thanks… sorry if I…”

Luanne stopped him, “Don’t worry about it. So… what do you think? This is our top of the line. It’s one hundred and twenty dollars.”

“Oh, yeah… I’ll take it.”

This was beginning to arouse me! I was so looking forward to tonight.

Luanne continued, “Anything else?”

“Yes. Some rope it think… good stuff, you know… soft…”

She explained, “Well, the best is pre-conditioned hemp. It’s very strong, so you can suspend, and it’s nice and soft…. a little expensive. It’s a buck a foot; natural or white.”

“Okay… white… maybe four six footers and two twelve footers… for now.”

Luanne made a suggestion, “I would change that to six four footers and two twenty footers. I know it’s a little more but…”

Tommy interrupted, “No… that’s fine. Whatever you think.”

DAMN… I was getting hot!

He continued, “There’s one more thing. I’ve seen this vibrator… It’s fairly large and looks like a big flashlight… like a cop has.”

She went down another aisle and returned with a device similar to what he described. It was at least a foot long and had a ball on the end. “I think this is what you’re looking. They call it a “magic wand” and this is our best. It’s cordless but powerful as hell… see…”

Luanne placed it on his arm and switched it on low, “Oh yeah… that’s pretty good…”

Then she switched it to high, “Holy crap! Is there a diesel engine in there or something?”

Luanne laughed and said, “Not quite. Now, there’s different settings, see? It goes from low up to high by turning this wheel at the bottom. Then you can set to steady or pulse and then there’s a pulse that goes from low to high. It’s ninety dollars.”

Tommy said, “Sold! Maybe a set of spare batteries would be good too.”

She replied, “Oh yes! Take it from me… there’s nothing worse then the batteries dying at the wrong time.”

“I can imagine.”

She answered, “No, honey… you can’t.”

It was getting awfully hard to keep from touching myself. The anticipation of what was going to happen tonight was killing me.

Luanne asked, “Anything else?”

Tommy said, “I don’t think so… unless you can think of anything…”

She motioned for him to move closer then she whispered something to him and, as he moved back, he said, “Where?”

Luanne pointed across the street and Tommy asked, “Why are we whispering?”

She said, “I want it to be our little naughty secret.”

He paid for the toys, thanked her for her extraordinary assistance, and then went out and across the street.

“You can come out now, honey.”

I could feel myself blushing but I moved to the counter, “Thanks for not saying anything.”

Luanne said, “That’s okay… I think it’s safe to say you’re in for a pretty fun evening.”

I blushed even more and she grasped my hand and said, “Oh honey, don’t be embarrassed. I think you and he might have a very special relationship… he seems like a pretty cool guy.”

“Oh yes… he’s an amazing man… maybe I could get something that would… you know… turn him on.”

Luanne said, “You know… much as I’d like to sell you something, I think you have everything you need to turn him on.”

I smiled at her and she continued, “There is one thing though, that you might consider…”

My whole afternoon went by as a blurry fog. I couldn’t focus on anything other than being where I was right then; standing in front of his door. I was even more excited than I was the night before but I was anxious again and I knew why… the ropes. Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! I knew he would never hurt me and I knew I could stop any time--ANY TIME! One word! That’s all it took! I was shaking now, I had gotten myself into such a frenzy that I was actually shaking!

I knocked on the door and Tommy, with his deep blue eyes and beaming smile, invited me in. I saw the big bed with the tall bedposts and the white ropes and I looked at this wonderful man, the man I was now in love with, and I began to cry as my legs buckled and I fell to my knees.

Tommy came to me fast and kept from falling any further, “God, Al… what’s wrong? Alyssa? What is it?”

I grabbed hold of him like my life depended on it and sobbed into his shoulder. He picked me up and lay me on the bed then just held me and let me cry. Tommy didn’t know that I fantasized about more than spanking when I read those stories. I dreamt of being tightly bound and played with but, it was like he had said, always with someone I could trust. But those two men, my self absorbed ex-husband and my psychotic ex-boyfriend had sucked the trust right out of me and my fear was going to cost me this man, this extraordinary man.

Tommy eased my sobbing when he said, “Alyssa, tell me what it is babe and we’ll fix it.”

Through some tears I said, “I’m so sorry, Tommy… I trust you… I really do but… it’s the ropes… I’ve never been…”

“It’s okay Al, we don’t have to use them if you don’t like them. I thought this might be a little scary for you so, when you’re able, let me show you, okay?”

I was still crying a bit but I was curious so I said, “I’m okay… what is it?”

He helped me up and we went to the foot of the bed. The posts were over six feet high and he had attached ropes to the bottoms and near the tops; all the ropes had loops in the end. He took one of the higher ropes and held the loop in front of me, then he said, “Don’t be scared okay? Just trust me a little and put one hand through the loop.”

Still shaking I did what he asked and he continued, “Good. Now grab the rope above the loop…”

I did that too. “Okay, see it’s sort of like being tied, right?”

It was a bit so I nodded yes, “Okay… now let go of the rope and bend your wrist a bit and pull…”

I did what he said and… my hand slid easily out of the loop! “I don’t underst…”

“Look… I figured that if you read some of those online stories you’re bound to get at least a little excited by more than just spanking. But, on the other hand, I also know what you went through with those two assholes and I can only imagine how hard it must be for you to put your complete trust in another man.”

I tried to interrupt, “But I do trust you Tommy…”

“I know you do and I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. And I do need you to trust me but, for now, trust me in a different way… thrust that I will try to help you along, as far as you want to go, in baby steps… at your speed, not mine.”

I moved into him and hugged him so tight as to hurt a smaller man, “I do Tommy… I trust you completely… it’s like there’s another person inside me who’s so afraid…”

He continued, “I understand Al… and I was stupid here. I went to fast. I shouldn’t have put the ropes up before you got here it’s just that… it took quite a while to get them right.”

I pulled out of the hug and said, “Okay… explain the ropes and the loops again.”

“Alright… I set them so that you can slip your hands and feet in then you can pull your limbs toward you a little which should give a reasonable illusion that you’re really bound. But, you saw before, all you have to do is let go and your hands slip out easy… your feet too… But we don’t have to use them now or ever if you don’t want to.”

He moved back into me, grasped my face and put his forehead to mine, “Look… it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that I’m falling pretty hard for you. And the spanking and sex and whatever else may be part of who you are but it’s not ‘who’ you are. And I really like who you are.”

I said, “I want to try the ropes now Tommy, but can we skip the Miss Jones thing for tonight?”

Tommy replied, “Sure… of course. Why don’t you just tell me what you would really like to do?”

I said, “Well… I’d like to strip for you and then you can help me get into the loops and then… you can do whatever you want.”

A little perplexed he said, “Whatever I want? That doesn’t really narrow it down too much.”

“I know I sound confused but I know exactly what I’m saying. I trust you with my life, Tommy and if you want to tie my up for real then I want you to do it. I’d be scared, but I’d want you to do it. Can you understand?”

Tommy smiled and said’ “I think so, Alyssa but I’d like to do it in baby steps too… that stripping thing sounded pretty good though… except for one thing.”

I asked, “What’s that?”

“Let me undress you.”

Before he finished the sentence I was aroused. He stood up and started to unbutton my blouse as I stood straight with my arms by my sides. He slid his hands under the blouse then slowly pushed it off my shoulders and let it waft down and off my arms. His touch was exquisite and he said “Oh wow!” when he saw the skimpy red lace bra I had bought at the lingerie shop. He slid his hand up under the bra so his hand were cupping my boobs then he used his thumbs to undo the front clasp and, again, pushed it gently off my shoulder. My loins were a seething caldron when he knelt, unzipped my skirt and let it fall.

Another “Oh my!” when he saw the tiny red lace thong then, starting at my ankles, he slowly, and ever so lightly, dragged his fingertips up the outside of my legs to my hips. If Tommy had just looked at my clit then, I would have exploded in his face.

He slipped his hands down my hips and into the thong then, like before, he slowly, slowly slid his hands down my legs taking the panties along for the ride. I had been quiet the entire time… I just wanted to enjoy what he was doing but he must not have realized how close I was because he just stood up and led me to the foot of the bed. DAMN!

Tommy had me rest my bum on the bed’s footboard then spread my feet wide apart so he could loop the ropes around my ankles. He had me pull my feet towards centre to tighten up a bit then he repeated the process with my wrists in the high ropes. It did feel like I was really bound in a wide, standing, spread eagle; the knowledge that I could easily escape went a long way in easing my anxiety and… it was exciting… VERY exciting!

Tommy then moved to the shopping bag on his desk and returned with the flogger. I had to act surprised as he explained, “I have a little confession to make… when we split up today I went to a little sex shop and got a few things. This is a ‘Pony’s Tail’ and I got some lessons on how to use it.”

I simply said, “OOOOooooo!”

He asked if I was ready and when I said I was he knelt and began to windmill the whip. He started at my ankles then, slowly and rhythmically, walked the flogger up the inside of my right leg to my knee. The lashing left a prickly sting sensation, like a thousand pins were poking me. All my muscles tightened with his first hit and I had my teeth and lips clenched emitting a low “HMMMMMMMM”. I realized we had a problem so I said, “Philadelphia!”

Tommy immediately stopped and said, “Oh… what is it? Does it sting too much?”

I answered, “No, no… I mean, it stings yes, but… I’m going to scream… I mean… I need to scream… I think I need some sort of gag.”

“Oh… okay… well… I do have this.”

He went back to the bag and returned with a black, rubber ball gag and I almost blew it, “Where did you get that? You didn’t buy it… er… I mean… where did you get it?”

He explained, “At the sex shop. Actually, I was a little nervous… I guess… so I forgot a couple of things the first time and I had to go back while you were at the Whiteside session. I got this and some lotion and some wrist and ankle cuffs.”

I was curious to see the cuffs but I just said, “Oh.”

He washed and rinsed the gag in the bathroom then, as he inserted into my mouth, he said, “Say ‘Philadelphia’.”

My attempt came out as, “Phiew-ah-el-phia.”

He fastened the Velcro straps behind my head and said, “Okay, I can make that out… don’t forget ‘Chicago’, eh?”

I nodded and again he knelt, began to windmill the flogger, and walk the lash up my leg. The prickly, stinging sensation returned and, as he began on my more sensitive inner thigh, I could no longer suppress my urge to scream. “MAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH…”

I was already panting but the scream was constant, interrupted only by the need to noisily gasp in a lungful of air. Just shy of my vulva he moved the whip up a bit then the lash steadily strolled down the front of my leg to my ankle. It was like he was painted my leg with the whip as he marched the lash up the outside of my leg to my hip. “MAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH… gasp… GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH… gasp…”

My vagina wanted to reach out and grab the lash as he smoothly moved it across my tummy, over my hips, and around to my bum… without missing a beat. Evenly paced downward strikes; down my left cheek; back up the middle; then down the right. There was a bonfire in my abdomen, trying to burn its way out of my body. I was clenched, pushing against all the new sensations like I was constipated. My face was hot, my head was involuntarily shaking back and forth and I was panting rapidly. “MAAAAHH… gasp… MAAAAHH… gasp… MAAAAHH… gasp…”

Like marquis lights on a movie theatre sign, the prickly stinging raced around my entire lower body. Tommy walked the whip up my spine then over to my armpit and down my side. The lash moved across my lower back then up my other side; then down again; then back to my tummy. He was relentless, never breaking the cadence as he moved the flogger to my breast. I gasped in hard then held my breath as he pulled the lash back until the tip was whipping my areola and nipple. Keeping the windmill motion going, he moved the flogger off me completely, allowing me to exhale and catch a few short breaths then he moved to my other boob.

The stinging was becoming real pain and, no matter where he struck, it seemed to radiate from my abdomen out to my fingertips and toes. Tommy reversed the windmill and began whipping the underside of my breasts, again bringing the lash back until it just clipped my nipple. Tears began to flow as I forced myself to breath, “AAAAWAAAAaaaaaaa… gasp”

The pain was intertwining with the pulses of pleasure pounding in my abdomen and my vagina was a smoldering fire pit full of white hot embers. I pulled hard at my restraints, trying to break free but I was too securely bound. The whip moved down to my tummy… to my pubes… to my thigh… to my other thigh… then…

“HUUUUUUUNNNNNNOhhhhhhh TOMMY… CHICAGO…CHICAGO!”

The very first touch of the lash between my legs detonated the hellfire in my belly and it flared out of me with such power that it shocked me! My body was rigid as steel and I pulled hard, hard on the ropes. I had to free myself!

“OHHHHHHH… PLEASE … TOMMY PLEASE… OHHHHHHGAWDDDDD…”

He moved close and, with one arm around my waist, he pulled me to him while lightly whipping my pussy with the other. The convulsions in my abdomen were in tune with his lashes… the pleasure mixed with the pain ‘til I couldn’t tell one from the other.

“OHHHHHGAWD… TOMMY… TOMMY…TOMMYTOMMYTOMMY…GEEZZZZZZ!”

When the orgasm crested my body jerked violently as the whip brushed my super-sensitive vulva. I had to free myself to stop this, “TOMMY PLEASE STOP… TOMMY PLEASE… PLEASE… STOP… STOP…”

I heard the sound of the flogger hitting the floor then felt his hand cup between my legs. His soft, soft caress still caused me to convulse but it was soothing; it was comforting; it was him; it was all I needed now.

He unhooked the Velcro, gently removed the ball gag, tilted my head up, and sweetly kissed my lips then he whispered, “I’m going to free your ankles so hang on to the ropes, okay?”

I wondered what he meant by “hang on to the ropes” as he knelt and freed my legs. He then stood, put his arm around my waist and pulled me up straight. My legs were weak but I was able to barely stand and I was still panting hard so I did not speak. My head was spinning but whenever Tommy got close enough I tried to kiss him; on his forehead; on his cheek; on his hair… it didn’t matter, I just had to kiss him. As he moved to free my right wrist he laughed a bit and, through the mist, I heard him say, “Okay sweetie, okay… I need you to let go of the rope now, babe.”

I didn’t understand… why didn’t he just untie me instead of futzing with my fingers and prying?  Finally, my arm came free and he moved to the left wrist, again prying at my fingers with one hand and holding me up with the other.

“Please, kiddo… help me out here… let go of the rope, baby…”

I was dizzy and was panting noisily but I managed, “Just… untie…”

When my wrist came free I just slumped into his arms. He picked me up, carried me to the side of the bed, and sat me on the edge. “Sit there for a bit okay? I’ll be right back… Boy, you didn’t make that easy!”

“… what?”

He said, “For someone that weighs like… one fifteen… you got one hell of a grip there, tiger!”

The cloud in my brain was beginning to lift and I said, “Why didn’t you just untie me?”

He looked puzzled and answered, “Uh… Alyssa, sweetheart… you weren’t tied, remember?  Your wrist was just through the loop and you had to hold it yourself.”

He wasn’t making any sense so I just gave up and he went to the bathroom for some towels. He returned and spread them on the bed then asked me to lie down on my tummy. It was only then that I realized that I was dripping wet from head to toe.

He straddled my hips and when the cold lotion hit my back I went “OO!!!” He began to rub the cream into my back and apologized that he had no means to heat the liquid. It felt like mink gloves as he rubbed my back, my shoulders, my arms, down my sides, around and over my bum, and down my legs to my heels. It tickled a bit when he rubbed the soles of my feet and I giggled, prompting him to say, “Hmmm… I’ll have to remember that!”

He had me turn onto my back the straddled my hips again, poured more lotion on my tummy, and began to rub. I wished that he was naked too and I reach up to him but he put my arms back down, “Let my finish this first, okay?”

He massaged the cream into my skin on my chest, up my sides, over my arms, then around and over my breasts. When he moved the rubbing down I grabbed his wrists and slid his hands back to my boobs and said, “They need much, much, more lotion.”

He smiled and massaged so slowly, kneading my breasts, then used his fingertips around my areola and nipples. All I could say was, “mmmmmmmmmm…”

Eventually he moved down to my tummy, over my hips, abdomen, pubes, and down my legs to my toes. I then spread my legs wide and, with two hands, pointed to my vulva and said, “You whipped me very hard here, Tommy… I thing it should be given extra attention.”

He shook his head and smiled then moved between my knees and applied some lotion. He delicately glided his hand over my labia, down to my bum, then back up and around my clitoris. He continued until I whispered, “Please come inside me, Tommy…”

Without hesitation he slid his sweatpants off and gently entered my waiting vagina. My arms and legs closed around him like a Venus Flytrap and I was aroused but I didn’t care if I had an orgasm; I just needed him to be with me, inside my body. He would climax and that was good enough for both of us.

He kissed me softly, all over my face and on my lips, as he slowly oscillated his groin into mine. I tightened my grip as I felt him begin to come and… instantly, from out of nowhere, my orgasm joined his. It wasn’t violent for either of us; instead it was slow and luxurious, like falling into a mountain of feathers.

After a few moments he rolled onto his back and I cuddled up to him as close as I could. Exhausted, we both began to drift into a warm, soft, doughy sleep when… My eyes snapped open and I almost shouted, “I WASN’T tied!”

Half asleep, Tommy said, “What?”

Excitedly I continued, “I wasn’t tied, Tommy! I could have… I could have freed myself, couldn’t I?”

Still dopey he said, “Right… you knew that… let’s rest now, okay?”

Frantic to make him understand I said, “No, I didn’t know… don’t you see… once you started I forgot about it. In my mind I was securely bound… completely at your mercy… don’t you get it?”

Fighting his urge to sleep, he answered, “Oh Al… I really wish I did but…”

It was obvious that I wouldn’t be able to explain it… even to myself but, in my heart, I knew what I meant. I would never be afraid of the ropes again… not with him.

It was still dark when I awoke and my movement caused Tommy to stir as well; the only light was from the ubiquitous hotel night lamps. I softly rubbed his chest then grabbed a towel and wiped the slobber off him. I hadn’t done that since I was a child, when I could sleep through an atomic bomb blast. He began to stretch and, like an addictive yawn, I followed suit. “RRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrugh!”

Tommy grabbed his watch from the nightstand and said, “Hm… it’s only midnight.”

It must have been around eight when we went to sleep. I cuddled back into him and said, “You were amazing with the flogger. I think you may have a gift!”

He laughed and said, “That’s what the girl in the shop said… but I think I need to practice…”

I repositioned so that we were face to face then said, “I’d like to help with that… in any way I can… and as often as I can.”

He moved his lips to mine and kissed me in that soft, deep, kiss that always gets me wet, then he asked, “Is it fair to say that we may be starting a long term relationship?”

I look straight into his eyes and said, “Would it scare you if I suggested… forever?”

He said, “Well... if that’s the best you got…”

I playfully punched him and we both giggled and wrestled on the bed for a minute or so then I got up went to the bathroom. He was back in his sweatpants when he came back from his turn and I asked, “Can we do another one? You know… tie me up…”

He smiled and said’ “Absolutely… do you have something in mind?”

“Well… you could force me… you know… force me to do something.”

Not sure what I meant, he asked me to elaborate so I continued, “You could tie me up… really tie me up this time, so that I am completely at your mercy, you know? Then you could ‘torture’ me until I agree to… maybe… pleasure you in my mouth… or something.”

Quite seriously he said, “Alyssa, I never want to make you do something that you don’t like…”

“Tommy! I love having you in my mouth! It’s just part of the game, that’s all.”

He smiled then and said, “So… how would you like to be bound?”

Still naked, I got up and put my arms around him and said, “It doesn’t matter… whatever you like but… really tight okay? So I can hardly move.”

“Are you sure?”

Staring into his beautiful blue eyes I answered, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Tommy led me to the corner of the bed and had me kneel on the floor. Then he took a pillow and, holding it behind me, had me move back until my spine was pressing and holding it against the bedpost. Next he told me to cross my ankles behind the post which required me to spread me knees apart quite a bit and hold the foot board with one hand to keep from falling forward. I felt him loop as short length of hemp a few times around my ankles then tighten and tie it off, “See if you’re able to uncross your ankles…”

I tried as hard as I could but my ankles were locked in place and I became wet realizing this was the first time I had ever been tied for real, “No… no… there’s no way Tommy.”

He tied the end of a long rope to each wrist and, as he brought the other ends to the diagonally opposing post, I asked, “Were you a boy scout? You seem to be pretty good with knots.”

“You have to thank Luanne again, the woman in the sex shop. When I went back the second time there was no one else in the store so she showed me a bunch of stuff. She showed my some easy knots and some other stuff and she helped me some more with the flogger.”

“I’ll have to drop by and thank her.” I said, as Tommy made a loop in one rope, wrapped it around the far post, and threaded the other rope through the loop.

Tommy said, “Yeah… me too… okay, I’m going to pull your arms now and so have to tell me if it gets to tight or uncomfortable.”

He pulled the rope through the loop tighter and tighter which drew my arms straight back until they were pointing directly at the far post. He kept pulling, forcing my back hard against the bedpost, then he stopped, “I think that’s tight enough… don’t be a martyr Al… please.”

It did cause my shoulders to ache a bit this new sensation of being immobile from the neck down was creating a gale force storm in my vagina so I answered, “It’s fine, Tommy… it’s perfect.”

He tied it off then came and stood if front of me and said, “Wow… WOW… you don’t know how… how… I don’t’ know… beautiful just doesn’t cut it.”

He leaned down and kissed me then said, “Oh… hang on a minute…”

Tommy went to his bag, removed a digital camera and snapped a couple of pictures then showed them to me on the camera’s viewer. The way my arms were pulled back made my boobs jut out like they were begging to be played with and, although it seemed a little conceited, the sight of my own naked body, tied and stretched, caused the storm to ramp up to hurricane status!

“I was hoping to gag you for a while with a cloth and rope but I can’t really find a good fabric. The facecloths are too big and…”

I interrupted, “What about my panties?”

“The little red thong? Forget it… you’d probably swallow them!”

I laughed and said, “No, no… in my bag… there’s a pair of regular cotton ones. They’re brand new… I haven’t even worn them yet.”

He retrieved the panties and asked if I wanted him to wet them first but I said no so he rolled them up, kissed me again, and stuffed them in.

Next he got a small cushion from chair, placed it between my head and the post, and gently pushed my forehead back. He got some rope, looped it, through my mouth and around my head and the post. He then looped the end across the coils and pulled it snug and tied it off. Except for my fingers, toes, and eyelids, I was completely immobile. Even just a kiss from him would probably have triggered a train wreck of an orgasm.

Tommy took a couple more snaps and showed them to me. I couldn’t move my head at all so he had to hold them right in front of my eyes. DAMN… I looked so freaking erotic! I tried to get him to touch me, “Tommy… please… touch me… PLEASE!” but this gag made it come out as absolute gibberish. He kissed me again then went to the shopping bag.

I assumed he was getting the flogger and I closed my eyes in anticipation but, when nothing happened right away, I opened them again to see him kneeling in front of me. He kissed me, smiled a devilish smile, then moved behind me…

“OH…OH NO… OH… AHHHHAAHAAHAAAAA….” The tip of the feather sent a jolt right through me as it touched the sole of my foot. He moved it from the sole to the ball of my foot and then lightly under my toes. Then over to my other foot, under the toes, swirling on the ball, then crisscross on the sole, “AHHHAAAAAA… NO.NONO…HAAAAHAAAHAAA… STOP…HAAAAHAAAAHAAAA…”

I laughed myself completely out of air but he was watching so he stopped and let me catch my breath, “Holy crow! And we just started….We’ll have to thank Luanne for this too!”

“NONONONO… PLEASE… STOP… STOP…AAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA…” He wafted the feather tip up my ankle, then the back of my lower leg, then in a back and forth wave pattern up the back of my thigh. I was terribly ticklish anyway but this… this immobility… unable to move or recoil from the relentless feather was too much!

“OHGAWDNO… TOMMY… NONONO… GAAAAWD…” He drew little circles on the side of my hip, then on my hip bone, then the feather glided to my butt cheek. Again, little circles up and down, from the top to the bottom then up the middle. He stopped, seeing that I was again out of breath. My eyes were watering and my throat was getting hoarse and, as I gasped in as much air as I could, I thought of screaming “Philadelphia” but I knew this was fun for him and it was arousing but… then he started again.

“HAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAA… NAAAAA…” Tommy moved the feather tip in lazy circles across my tummy, up my side, across my tummy again, up the other side, across, just under my boobs. Then he spiraled that evil tuft up my breast and flicked at my nipple with the feather tip. I was biting hard on the cloth and pulling on my ropes with everything I had… I needed to get away from this! He moved to my other boob and spiraled and flicked: “UNNNNNNNOOOOOO…” Then he stopped again.

He looked into my eyes and I wanted him to see that he must stop… if he loves me he must stop. Then he said, “I can’t tell you how neat it is to watch you fight this but, remember, if it gets too much, you say ‘Philadelphia’, okay? Do you want to say ‘Philadelphia’ now?”

Laughing so hard had made me terribly light headed and I knew I couldn’t take much more but, if it didn’t last too much longer… if I could take just a little more… let him enjoy it just a little more…

Breathless, still gasping for air, I said, “Uh uh.”

He started again on my boobs, spiraling, flicking… I clenched my teeth on the cloth and held my breath, pushing like I was delivering a baby. Tommy moved the torment to my tummy, back and forth, lower and lower. Then he went across my abdomen, then my pubes, “BWAAAAAHAAAAHAAAA…”

He stopped just long enough for me to get one lungful then moved the feather tip between my legs. Little spirals from my bum crack and forward across my perineum; up then down my labia… then my clit.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHSHIIIIIIIIIIT!”

My eyes snapped open as my bud betrayed me; popping out from under its hood, engorged and begging for more. He circled then flicked the plume lightly, stroked my labia, outside and in, then back to that turncoat clitoris. I couldn’t move but the orgasm caused me to shake, almost vibrate, in my restraints. Tommy didn’t touch me he just kept using the feather as my convulsions caused my abdomen to try and rip itself free from me. I could not make a sound… I was out of air and the room began to spin as my sensitized vulva jerked with every touch… then he stopped.

Huge gasp of air, “HUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…” Then, “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh…”

He cupped his hand between my legs and softly rubbed; I was so wet it felt like he was squeezing a sponge. When he had brought me down a bit, he undid the gag rope and gently pulled out the panty; allowing me to get a decent lungful. I was dizzy and the butterflies in my belly made me feel like I might get sick but it passed as I caught my breath.

“Oh… Tommy… next time… just use… the whip…”

Tommy was close to me now, holding my head against his, cheek to cheek, “Well, you said I should force you and, too bad for me, but you didn’t relent.”

“What?”

He continued, “You didn’t give in. You said I should tie you real tight then, your words, ‘do anything I want’ to make you agree to pleasure me with your mouth but you didn’t give in… so… you win.”

SHIT! I forgot all about that! I would suck him for a week straight to have stopped the tickling! Besides; the reason I said that in the first place was because I loved his cock in my mouth, “No… no… uh… I give in… I don’t want you to tickle me more so I give in… I will pleasure you, Tommy!”

He protested a bit but finally stood up, dropped the sweats, and moved himself into my waiting mouth. I don’t think he’ll ever understand how much I like doing this to him, especially when I’m tied like this, only able to move my head. He doesn’t “fuck” my mouth like all the others did, instead he lets me take him in and control the movement and caress him with my tongue. When he comes, and even after he becomes sensitive, he lets me fondle his penis with my mouth, my lips, and my tongue. It was arousing me and I think I had a little orgasm when he climaxed.

He untied me and we had a nice slow, sensual shower together then went to bed. We talked for a bit and made love again—me on top; something I rarely did before, then we floated off to a childlike sleep. If the hotel had burned to the ground that night, they would have found us still holding each other and still asleep.

I changed my flight so we could fly back to Toronto together. We even became charter members of the Mile-High Club, much to the annoyance of the three flight attendants. Everybody on the plane knew and, as we returned to our business class seats, a few guys gave Tommy a thumbs up… there was even some quiet applause. I wasn’t embarrassed at all, in fact, I was proud that everyone knew I was with him and that we had just done what every one of them wished they could.

My girlfriend Wendy had driven me to the airport but Tommy had used a park and fly service so he was going to drive me home. In the parking lot, I picked out his car right away… a late sixties, black Corvette convertible; it just fit him so well.

Over the next few months I spent most weekends at his place which afforded us more privacy than mine. I was still working during the week and Tommy still did a fair bit of web design out of his office at home. His commitment, to the large corporation that bought his business, was finally fulfilled so he could pretty much do what he wanted.

During that time we experimented with many, many different bondage rigs and scenarios; even a couple of outdoor scenes that never worked out. Although his place was not in town there were still quite a few homes in the area and we were always interrupted by people out walking and hiking. One in particular, a Little Red Riding Hood scenario that had promised to be very exciting, was interrupted by two turkey hunters who never knew how close they had come to seeing something they would never have forgotten. The very next day Tommy started looking for properties.

The following weekend we drove about twenty minutes north to view a one hundred acre farm property. We turned into a lane marked by a mailbox with the name “P. Castle”. The gravel driveway turned to pavement as we neared a beautifully renovated farm house and two well maintained barns. There was even a good sized, two bedroom “granny flat” about fifty meters from the main house. The farm was originally a horse breeding operation and, at one time, some very expensive horses grazed here so the entire acreage was surrounded by a seven foot chainlink security fence. The real estate agent told us that the husband had died tragically and the wife was fairly eager to sell so Tommy put in an offer… cash deal… no mortgage. Three days later Tommy had himself a ranch as well as three horses that were part of the deal, and a large empty barn with enormous potential!

Driving back Tommy suggested I sell my place and move in with him. Four weeks later we moved to the ranch.

We put an ad in the local paper for a full time person to care for the horses and the other farm chores. A couple of days later, a beautiful local girl named Kendall Bellamy applied for, and got, the job. She would receive a generous salary and live in the granny flat. Tommy told her that, while the horse barn was of course hers to look after, the empty barn was off limits. Immediately we started making drawings and plans to convert that barn into a dream bondage studio. About a week later an incident occurred that was to change our lives forever.

My girlfriend Wendy and I had been close since high school and had socialized often and shared our deepest secrets, right up until my trouble with Bruce. For a time after that I had withdrawn into a bad place, fearful of people in general and men in particular. We didn’t see much of each other from then ‘til I returned from the seminar. From then on we started meeting again for coffee or lunch and made a point of staying in touch. We met one afternoon for a late luncheon and, as soon as I walked into the café, I could see she was unhappy.

After the waiter left our menus I asked, “What’s wrong Wendy?”

She answered, “Oh… it’s just… a lot of things… piling up, you know? If you don’t mind, Ally… I’d just as soon not talk about it right now. How about you? How’s the ranch working out?”

I didn’t want to push if she wasn’t ready so I told her about Kendall and the horses and, since she knew about my bondage thing, our plans for the barn. Then she asked, “Did you ever get to do the Riding Hood thing?”

“Oh yes! Last Monday afternoon… those fences are great! Nobody ever comes on the property.”

Wendy leaned forward and, almost whispering, said, “Well… details girlfriend!”

It had been a terrific experience so I eagerly began to elaborate, “It was so much fun Wendy… I was this naïve and innocent young girl who was going through the woods to grandma’s to meet a boy. Apparently, in our culture, grandmothers always arranged the marriages for their granddaughters.

“Anyway… I’m going through the woods when I encounter a man, Mr. Wolf, and he asks where I was headed so I tell him and then he says ‘Have you passed an official inspection’ I say no then he says ‘Oh my, you are a very brave girl!’ I ask what he means and he says ‘Oh, Miss Riding Hood, if the boy was to discover a flaw then your grandmother would lose her standing in the community. Why, she’d probably have to move away!’

“So then I say ‘Oh my, Mr. Wolf, I wouldn’t want that to happen! I must find an inspector right away!’ So Mr. Wolf says ‘Well, as luck would have it, I am an inspector.’ So of course I think this is pretty lucky…”

Wendy breaks in; “Because you’re so naïve, right? How did you keep a straight face through all this?”

I answer, “Yes, because I am so terribly naïve and… we giggle all the time but we get passed it.”

Wide eyed, Wendy says, “Continue… continue!”

“Okay… so I ask if he could inspect me now and he says ‘Well… I have much to do but, since you are such a lovely young lady, I will inspect you now.’ So I thank him and ask him what to do… oh, I’m wearing a poor girl dress and panties… that’s it. Anyway, he says ‘Please remove your dress and hang it on the tree’ So I take off the dress and he says ‘What is that around you middle?’ I say ‘They are panties, Mr. Wolf.” And he says, ‘You see, this is a serious flaw! You mustn’t wear anything like that! Please get rid of them quickly’

“So I take off the panties and throw them away then he says, ‘Now please put your hands up above your head and spread you legs.’ So I do then he walks around me a couple of times…”

Wendy breaks in again, “Were you getting excited?”

I answer, “Oh Wendy, I get so wet when we do these things. I just love being naked in front of him. I love the way he looks at me. It’s even better now than when we first met.”

She just looked at me and I thought I saw her eyes well up so I continued, “Anyway… Mr. Wolfe looks me over then he rubs my bum and then between my legs… then he squeezes my boobs… then he opens my mouth and examines my teeth and I burst out laughing. He teased me but then we got back into it. So he says ‘Miss Riding Hood, everything seems to be satisfactory but I think it would be wise for a major inspection… for the sake of your beloved grandmamma!’ Well… that got me giggling but I managed to say ‘Oh yes thankyou Mr. Wolfe. We must protect my grandmamma!’

“So… then he points to a couple of trees and says ‘That is the official bride-to-be inspection station.’ And I say ‘Do you mean the two trees with the ropes attached?’ And he says ‘Yes… please allow me to assist you.’ So then he ties me with the ropes so that I am spread-eagled between the trees and then… well… it was really nice Wen. He touched me and rubbed and put his fingers in and kissed… you know. I think he was pretty turned on, seeing me spread naked like that… so he brought on a really sweet orgasm but then of course he had to punish me because a bride-to-be shouldn’t… Oh… Wendy, what is it sweetie?”

She had started to cry so I held her hands until, finally, she said, “It’s just… you two are so in love and… you have so much fun. Why can’t I have that, Ally… am I so bad…?”

“No, no, Wendy, no… you’re a beautiful girl and you’ll meet somebody…”

She interrupted, “When, Ally… when will I meet my Tommy? I’ve been with six guys in the last eighteen months and all of them have been… shitheads… just big shitheads!”

She cried a bit more then settled down and continued, “They were just awful, Ally… one of them hit me and most of the others were just… all they talked about was sports and crap like that. None of them new how to make love they just… banged me. And there was this guy, Frankie… I thought maybe he was going to be okay but… well you know I’d kind of like to try some bondage stuff, but when I suggested it to him… he started calling me like ‘slut’ and ‘perverted’… I’ll never meet a decent guy… I just know it.”

We talked for more than an hour and she got a little better but when we left the café I could see she was still upset. I couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about Wendy and how we were so much alike… except that I had met Tommy. It occurred to me that I wasn’t just luckier that her, I was luckier than most women. I loved Wendy and I really wanted to help her.

In the morning, all through breakfast, I told Tommy about Wendy and how I wished I could help her through it. We took our coffees and sat on the front porch and I said, “Sometimes you don’t realize how rare a guy like you is, Tommy.”

“Rare? Yeah… rare like a grain of sand on a beach. I’m just a regular guy, Al. Okay, I happen to be the luckiest regular guy on the planet but…”

I interrupted, “I want to ask you a huge favour, Tommy.”

Tommy replied, “Anything baby, you know that.”

“What about… I mean… would you… consider… this is hard.”

He said; “What, Alyssa? You can ask anything.”

I was so nervous, “What if… what if you did a scenario… with Wendy?”

He looked at me for a moment then looked away and was silent for a long time. I didn’t want to push him and I was getting frightened that I may have asked too much. Finally he sighed then said, “Look… I understand that she’s your friend and you feel you need to help her but… well… first of all, I’m not sure it would do her any good anyway.”

I had never seen him so upset since we met. I began to get scared that I may have crossed a line so, I got up, straddled his legs and put my arms around him, “Tommy, I love you more than air itself… you know that right? And if what I’m saying has even a tiny chance of hurting us then I will shut up about it right now.”

He smiled and kissed me then said, “I guess our relationship should be strong enough to at least have this conversation, it’s just that I can’t lose you… not for anything and… I still don’t see how this would help your friend.”

“I thought it might take that… aspect… out of the equation for her.”

Puzzled, he said; “I don’t… what equation?”

I continued, “She’s been trying very hard, too hard really, to find a man like… well… like you. And, believe me, there are not very many of you around so… I thought if she could have this then she might find a nice guy and not have to worry whether he was into spanking or whatever.”

He looked at me and said, “Would you have been satisfied with that…? Just one night and that was it?

I sighed and answered, “Well… obviously no… but, I don’t know what else to do; she’s so depressed now.”

Then Tommy said, “Okay, I tell you what… you think about it today and I will too and we’ll discuss it again at supper. You have to be realistic… I mean obviously she would end up naked and I would have to touch her at least a little. Are you saying that you’d be okay with that?”

I started to answer but he cut me off; “Oh… and you’d have to be there. That’s not negotiable. You’d have to be there all the time and if you see anything, anything at all that you don’t like, you must tell me.”

I said; “Are you thinking of doing it?”

“We’ll discuss it at dinner, okay?”

Of course I wasn’t sure if I was okay with it; the thought of him touching another woman scared the crap out of me! I had been up all night thinking about him with my naked and bound best friend, doing all the things that he did with me. Oddly, it wasn’t jealousy; I really did think that I was selfish to keep him all to myself but… what if he liked it with her better than me? What if she could take more than me?

But, if it could help Wendy… and he did say, in no uncertain terms, that it was up to me to set the rules; as always, the ball was in my court.

He took me to town for supper and neither one of us broached the subject throughout the meal but, on the ride home Tommy said, “So… about our discussion at breakfast…”

I blurted out, “I think we should do it! But… I make the rules, right?”

He said, “Of course, except you have to be there… and… have you talked to Wendy about this?”

“No, not yet… but I was thinking… what if you did a scenario with the both of us?”

He sighed and said, “Okay… I’ll do this if you really want but… it’s for you. You have to promise… swear on all you hold dear, that if anything, even for a second, bothers you, you will stop it. I know Wendy is your friend but you are my one and only priority… promise my, Alyssa.”

“I promise, Tommy. Please. Please, Tommy you have to know that I feel the same way.”

He answered, “I do, babe… I do… Okay, I’ll come up with a scenario and you can run it by your friend and we’ll go from there.”

I spent the rest of the ride home thinking of how I could make love to him that night like he had never been made love to before. I was determined that when we were done, he would know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was his and would be forever.

An incredulous Wendy stared at me and said, “Are you serious?”

Her voice was quite loud and had drawn some attention for other café patrons so I leaned in close and softly said, “It’s just an idea, Wen. Tommy and I talked it over and, if you want to do it, we thought it might help you.”

Wendy was still pretty flustered, “I don’t know what to say… where would we…?  I’ve never even met… Oh, I don’t know, Ally.”

“It would be on the weekend at the ranch… nice and private,” I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Tommy has this scenario and I would be there the whole time.”

Wendy was blushing and couldn’t look me in the eye as she said, “I’ll… think about it, okay?”

Trying to assure her, I held her hands and said; “If this is something you don’t want to do, it’s okay… just say so and we’ll never speak of it again, okay? Nobody will ever know… either way.”

We paid for our meal, left the café and, on the sidewalk, I gave her a big hug then we parted and I headed for my car. Suddenly I heard her call me, “Ally… Alyssa!”

From about thirty feet away, I turned to see what she wanted and she shouted, “Saturday morning at ten… is that okay?”

Wendy showed up at ten on the dot and, after I introduced her to Tommy, we all sat on the front porch for coffee. She was obviously very nervous but Tommy was exceptionally reassuring, outlining the scenario and going over “Philadelphia’ and “Chicago”. He stressed the out word so that she knew she could stop things at any time.

The scenario was to be a “captured spy” thing wherein Tommy would “apprehend” us and “torture” us to find the location of the “McGuffin”. We laughed as we tried to come up with locations for the McGuffin; the outhouse; Wendy’s birth control case; my panty drawer. It didn’t matter of course, the McGuffin was actually nothing, just a part of the game.

Tommy then went to the studio and we were to follow in about fifteen minutes. It was clear that Wendy was getting very nervous so I said, “You’re going to love this, Wen. Just remember, no matter how into the scenario you get, ‘Philadelphia’ stops everything. And remember too that Tommy will never hurt you.”

She was a little confused by that last remark but I knew she’d understand later so we got up and headed for the studio. We were both wearing forty’s style skirts, blouses, bras, and panties; we pretended that we were sneaking in to a secret spy base as we entered the studio.

It was pitch black as we went in and, as I locked the door behind me, we realized we were in a box, maybe five foot square. Suddenly, there was a bright light from above and we looked up to see a bed of large sharp spikes overhead. I knew they were actually styrofoam but I could hear Wendy’s apprehension in her breathing… then the voice…

“There is no escape and if you do not obey my commands I will release the spikes and you will both die. Do you understand?”

Getting into my role I said; “Who are you…? You have no right…”

“SILENCE! Obey or die… choose now!”

I could see that this was scaring the crap out of Wendy so I whispered, “We’ll have to obey for now, until we can escape… remember sweetie, it’s just a game.”

Shakily she answered, “Okay…”

I shouted; “Very well, we will obey… who are you?”

“My name is unimportant. You will address me as ‘sir’. Now, both of you put on the blindfolds hanging on the wall then place your hands behind your heads.”

She was still shaky so I had to put her blindfold on then we placed our hands behind our heads and the inner door opened. He guided us out and stood us side by side then said, “Remove your clothing… all of it… now!”

Back in character I said, “No! You have no right… OW!”

“The Voice” had smacked me on the bum with a riding crop, “SILENCE! You will obey me now or you will be killed. Is that clear?”

I answered, “Yyyyes.”

“Yes WHAT,” said the voice.

Meekly I said, “Yes sir.”

I was hoping that my play acting would help Wendy get into it without being too afraid but her breathing told me she was really scared… yet… she hadn’t tried to stop it.

“Now… both of you… disrobe immediately!”

“Yes sir,” I said and we started to undress. I could hear Wendy unzip her skirt but she must have balked at her underwear because “the Voice” suddenly said, “The bra… NOW!” I was already naked so he had to be talking to her.

Wendy said, “Yyyyes ssssir.” She sounded so scared! Then I heard a smack and Wendy cry out…

“Now the panties… quickly!”

Tearfully she answered, “Yyyyes… ssssir.” She sounded so frightened; I was tempted to stop it but… she could do that if she wanted and I knew Tommy was watching her and would remind her of the out word soon.

Speaking to her again he said, “There is a chair behind you… now sit.” I could hear rustling and knew that he had guided her into the seat and was tying her to the chair. Then I heard him whisper, “Don’t forget ‘Philadelphia’… don’t be afraid to say it if you get too scared.”

Then, speaking to me, he said; “Now you… come over here.” He guided me to the large padded sawhorse and gave me a quick kiss then tied me bent over, with my arms bound to the legs on one side and my ankles tied spread to the legs on the other side. I wasn’t sure about Wendy but, I was getting pretty wet!

I knew he had removed Wendy’s blindfold when I heard him say, “Now, you will see what awaits you if you do not cooperate!”

He hadn’t gagged me so I knew he wanted me to make some noise and, when I heard the distinctive “swoosh” of the windmilling rubber flogger, I knew that wasn’t going to be difficult.

“OWW…OWWW… OH GAWD… OWWW… PLEASE… OH GAWD…” The rubber flogger rendered a very severe sting and Tommy didn’t like using it a lot because it left welts. It would also be painful for me to sit for a while but Tommy was always careful to only strike my bum and thighs; he avoided my hips so I could lie comfortably on my side for a night or so.

“NO… NO… PLEASE… OW GAWD… OWWWWW…” My tears were real and the rapid lashes to my cheeks and thighs were making me jerk hard against the ropes but this whip always got me extremely aroused in a hurry. When he let up so I could catch my breath, I could hear Wendy crying in her chair.

“OH GAWD… OH GAWD… NONONO… OHGAWDOHGAWD… OH SIR… PLEASE…” Tommy knew I was close now.

Immediately he went and replaced Wendy’s blindfold and I laughed a bit as I heard him say, “I’m afraid this will be too much for you to see.”

He came back and gave me a few quick lashes on the back of my legs, just above the knees. Then he knelt down in front of me, slid his fingers in, and used his thumb on my clit whispering, “Lots of noise, okay?” As before… not a problem…

“OH GEEEEZ… OH GEEEEEEZ… PLEASE… GEEEEEEEEZ!” The orgasm was instantaneous and powerful and Tommy was noisily whacking the sawhorse with one hand and, with the other, caressing my vulva as only he can. Wendy must have thought he was beating me to death!

It was difficult to stay quiet as he softly stroked my labia as I came back down, then he kissed me and whispered, “Just hang there for a couple, like you’re out cold, okay?”

He got up and went back to Wendy and I knew he had removed her blindfold when I heard her say; “OH! My God!” I can only imagine what went through her mind at the sight of my panting, naked, apparently unconscious body bent over the sawhorse; red welts from my bum to my knees.

I heard him take her over to the post and, after a moment, he said, “Now stand there and do not move, do you hear me? If you move you will suffer even worse than your friend!”

Meekly, but no longer shaking, she answered, “Yes sir.”

I heard Tommy rustle around then I felt the marvelous sensation of his hands massaging in the E lotion on my bum and legs. He quickly untied my ankles then came in front, removed the blindfold and freed my wrists. I stood up and looked at Wendy standing between the posts, blindfolded, hands tied behind her back, and legs spread to shoulder width; awaiting her inquisitor’s return. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had spread her legs without prompting.

Tommy went about securing her in a standing spread-eagle between the posts then he attempted to insert a ball gag but she clenched her mouth and fought him. A quick pinch to the nipple caused her to scream, “AAAAA” and the gag was in… I could never beat that one either. I quietly moved so I was in front of her and… holy cow…! She looked so EROTIC!” I’d seen pictures of myself like this but never another woman and… I couldn’t keep from touching myself.

Tommy, standing behind her with a Pony’s Tail, said, “You can save yourself a lot of pain, my dear, by telling me the location of the McGuffin now.” He was windmilling the flogger close to her bum so she could hear the “swoosh” and feel the breeze.

“No… never!”

She must have expected the first hit to be on her butt because she jerked hard when he started on her lower calf. He walked the lash up her calf to the back of her knee, with rapid, rhythmic, relatively light strokes. He moved to the other leg again, started on her lower calf but continued up just below her bum, then back to the other leg. Wendy was panting but had been fairly quiet; just a steady “Unnnnnnnn…gasp… unnnnnnn…” I was beginning to rub a little harder.

He stopped and asked her for the McGuffin’s location but she defiantly answered, “No, I will not tell… you can hit me as hard as you want but I will never tell!” Clearly she wanted him to use more force.

Tommy got to work again, moving the whip from her hip and down the side of her leg to her ankle. Then back up the other leg, then to her butt cheeks. Her gleaming, sweat soaked body was violently jerking in the restraints and I noticed tears emerging from under the blindfold; she was crying now but still suppressing her scream. I was rubbing like I was trying to remove paint and… Tommy saw me, “YOU! STOP! How dare you do that without my command?”

He was whipping her from the front now; her legs, abdomen and tummy then all around her boobs. Again to me he said, “Bring me that small sawhorse now!”

I had thought I was out of the scenario so I was surprised but I did as instructed. He motioned for me to put the small, padded sawhorse in front of her and, as I did, I noticed a little puddle forming on the floor from Wendy’s feverishly dripping vagina. Still whipping her chest, sides, and arms, he said, “Now lie on the top and spread your legs… WIDE!” Without missing a beat he dropped his sweats and slid his rock hard, dripping cock into me.

“AAAAAAHAAAAAAA….NOOOO… AAAAAAAAA… gasp”

Wendy couldn’t contain her screams once Tommy moved the lash to her breasts. He was grinding his hips into me and whipping her at the same time… I wished we were filming this.

“IEEEEEEEEEEE… AAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA… gasp…”

I exploded with her scream and I’m sure she did too as Tommy moved the flogger between her legs and maintained that amazing stroke, from her perineum, across and inside her wide spread labia, and just nicking her engorged clit. I felt his liquid flood into me but still, he kept up his whipping and his grinding. It wasn’t easy though; I could see his sweatshirt glued to his soaked chest.

“OHHHHHhhhhhhh… gaaaawd… please… stop…”

Wendy was almost whispering, virtually all her energy was gone, and her pussy must have been very sensitive but, Tommy kept lightly whipping her dripping labia, then, somewhat breathlessly, Tommy said, “Tell me the location…”

Despite the softness of his strikes, her body jerked with each blow and her head was hanging, chin on chest. The girl was spent but she managed a hoarse, “It’s… in your… sock… drawer.” We all started to laugh.

Tommy leaned down and kissed me as he withdrew and whispered, “I think it’s time for the shower.”

He freed her from the restraints and removed her blindfold then we both steadied her as we walked to the shower. Tommy thought it best if I washed Wendy so I did but, a quick glance at his newly steeled penis showed that this “girl-on-girl” action was a little too much for him. I told Wendy to just stand and soak for a bit then I turned, knelt, and eased his discomfort.

Tommy and I applied the lotion, dressed her, and ourselves, in bathrobes, and went back to the front porch. Wendy had not said a word since she gave up the whereabouts of the McGuffin.

At the porch, Wendy and I sat while Tommy went in to get us all some water. Just before he returned Wendy, with tears in her eyes, looked at me and silently mouthed, “Thankyou.” He gave us the water then went back in for some wine, his requisite rye and ginger, and a cigar. When he returned, Wendy looked at him and said; “You should do this for a living!”

We all laughed for a bit then Wendy interrupted, “I’m not kidding, Tom… you have a gift and I think there are quite a few women that would pay big money for this.”

I saw his exasperated look but… I actually thought it might be a good idea so I said, “You know… maybe you should think about this. You did say you were getting a little tired of web design and that stuff. And, you have to admit, Tommy, you are really good at this!”

“You two are NUTS…! And, besides, wouldn’t that amount to… prostitution?”

Wendy was adamant, “No… not even close! Look… the session, the nice shower, the lotion, and all the rest makes it more like a spa. And you didn’t touch me… I know I had a couple of orgasms…oh, that last one was outstanding, by the way…”

I added; “The house has six bedrooms, right? We could fix them up and maybe redo the kitchen and a few other things… and it could be a weekend visit. I bet women would pay a couple of thousand for something like that.”

Tommy kept protesting, “Come on… the logistics would be overwhelming. There’d be so much to organize; we’d have to find out what each woman would want; new equipment; safety…”

I interrupted, “I could quit my job and take care of all the paperwork and that kind of thing.”

Tommy looked at me and said, “You’d be willing to do that? So… we could do this together?”

Wendy, sensing a chink in the armour said, “What if I could get you ten clients in the next fourteen days?”

For the next two weeks Tommy and I batted the idea around; we even argued a couple of times which is something we had never done. I knew I would have some problem if the women wanted him to be intimate with them. Tommy’s only problems all revolved around me which; was so sweet and so exasperating. Finally we agreed that, if we did this, then it was engraved in stone… if it got sour, for either one of us, we shut it down… for good. Tommy added that it was probably academic anyway because he was skeptical that Wendy, despite her many contacts as a booking agent, could deliver ten women in two weeks who were willing to pay two grand for a weekend.

We were sitting on the porch having Saturday morning coffee when Wendy’s car pulled up. She grabbed a large metal briefcase from the trunk and sauntered up to the porch, “Anybody want to buy me a cup of coffee?”

After some coffee and small talk Wendy said, “So… have you guys been thinking about the ‘spa’?”

Tommy answered, “Well… we talked about it a lot and I guess we’re not entirely against it but… we were kind of waiting to see how you did.”

Wendy pointed to the briefcase and said, “Open it.”

I popped the latches and swung the lid open… and gasped!

Tommy’s eyes were wide as he said, “Holy SHIT!”

The briefcase was complexly full of cash money. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Finally I composed myself to ask, “How much is there?”

Wendy casually answered, “One hundred and thirty thousand dollars.”

Tommy repeated, “Holy SHIT!” then he added, “That’s like… sixty five women… HOLY SHIT!”

Wendy corrected him, “No, actually it’s twenty six women… at… five thousand each… for a two to three day stay.”

Tommy was absolutely flabbergasted, “Five thousand! But… how much time do we have? And how do we go about…”

Wendy interrupted, “I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up some ideas about conducting interviews, setting up an account, payments, etc. Maybe Ally and I could go over them and then run them by you at dinner… assuming I’m invited.”

I said, “Of course… but you should get a commission, right?”

Wendy said, “Oh, absolutely. I’d settle for… two free sessions a year.”

Tommy and I looked at each other then he said, “We couldn’t consider this for any less than four.”

A very happy Wendy said “Deal!” Then she added, “You were a big fan of that sci-fi show on TV weren’t you, Tom?”

Tommy replied, “Yeah, I was why?”

“Do you remember the tall blonde?” said Wendy.

“Oh you mean…”

She interrupted, “We’re going to refer to her as ‘Teri’… She doesn’t want to use her real name… in fact, none of them do. Anyway, she’s your first client.”

A very excited Tommy said, “Far freaking out!”

Speaking to Wendy I said, “Shouldn’t Tommy use a pseudonym too?”

She agreed, “Yes, I think that would be a very good idea. We must be very discreet in all things. It is part of the deal that the women will and should expect. The farm is perfect; long private lane; the fences; all of it. But Tom should use a fake name in anything that has to do with the operation.”

I looked at Tommy and said, “So, sweetie, what name do you think would be à propos?

A perplexed Tommy replied, “All that comes to mind now is ‘Goofy’”

We had some more coffee and bandied about a number of really stupid names until Wendy suggested ‘Marquis de Sade’”

We laughed a bit then Tommy protested, “Well, first of all, I don’t consider myself a sadist and, secondly, it might scare some folks off.”

I interjected, “Of course you’re not a sadist, in fact, you’re probably the exact opposite but, the name kind of fits… maybe a variation… an anagram maybe…”

We started throwing out variations of the name; Marq Suidesade; Midas Quiredes; Red Maquissade. Then it suddenly jumped out at me so I wrote it down and showed it to them.

They both kind of liked it and after some arguing, and-- because it looked more European-- repositioning the ‘e’ in front of the ‘d’ instead of after, we had his new name…

Sam Darquesied.

* * Alyssa’s Story Ends * *

Wow… you guys really are soul mates… how long ago was all this?” I ask

Alyssa answers, “About seven years ago, Sylvia; I was thirty then and he was fifty.”

I was fascinated by all she had told me; it was like finally finding the combination to a mysterious padlock, but I had a thousand more questions, “So Teri was the first ‘client’? She’s been going for seven years?”

“That’s right,” answers Alyssa, “And then Malsa; then Isabella… most of the women at the party have been clients almost since we started. Lilly has only been coming for about a year because Malsa wouldn’t let her… ‘til she was twenty-one.”

“Mother and daughter… boy, I bet there’s a good story about them! Oh… and Kendall… what about her?”

Alyssa smiles and says, “They all have pretty good stories, Syl, and Kendall’s is one of the best, but it’ll have to be another day.”