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On Sunday morning Katia is summoned to join him on a car journey, destination unknown .
He arrives promptly outside her flat, nodding approvingly as Katia walks out to the car in vertiginous heels.
“Hop in,” he says by way of welcome, the mere sound of his voice sufficient to send a shiver of pleasure down Katia’s spine. Previous experience has led her to practice the art of entering a car decorously, but as she swings in her legs Katia’s tightly belted raincoat parts about her thighs to divulge her quiescence in wearing very little underneath. Momentarily visible to anyone with snapshot vision are sheer honey-toned stockings fasted to taut black suspenders, and a carefully depilated bush.
Invisible, but just as alluring, a fine silver chain circles her waist and Katia’s beautiful breasts are braless beneath a black silk chemise.
“You look lovely,” he says simply, and Katia inwardly exults at the compliment. Fleetingly he lays a proprietorial hand on her thigh before, to her regret, moving it to shift the car into gear.
“Discipline has definitely improved your demeanour, today we’ll explore erotica’s further limits. You may not,” he smiles, “always enjoy the experience, but will derive pleasure at its conclusion.”
“It’s true, you’ve altered my sexuality, she agrees. “I’m often scared, usually suffer, but rarely unsatisfied, until yesterday.”
“Your carnal needs will be met, I promise,” he responds as they drive out into the countryside. “However I intend to test your obedience to the limit. Our current situation is too cosy – we must push the boundaries.”
Katia teeters on an emotional edge, half anticipating, half dreading what the day may entail. Obedience has become her default position. Not once does it ever occur to her to question, negotiate, or simply ignore his instructions.
Half an hour later he swings the vehicle into a tree- lined drive eventually halting in front of a large country house.
Striding around to the passenger side he helps Katia out.
“Go on in,” he gestures, following her inside to unlock a stout oak door in the far corner of the entrance hall. Descending a spiral staircase of cast iron to what was once the cellar Katia discovers it transformed – into a modern day dungeon!
We have the uninterrupted and private use of these ‘facilities’ for the entire day,” he answers her unspoken question. “Totally self-contained, and as you can see, fully equipped.” Something of an understatement; there being ceiling and floor rings for securing hands and feet, a stout wooden whipping post and a vaulting horse with ankle and wrist restraints. A bed and a good stock of footstools, chaises and bolsters afford any penitent position one might imagine. Opening a large wardrobe reveals rows of neatly hung ataşehir escort bayan costumes.
“All the obvious clichés, I’m afraid: maid, nurse, parking warden, air hostess… along with some modern stuff in leather, rubber and PVC.” Clearly at ease with the surroundings he opens a large blanket chest and beckons Katia to look inside. Her blood races at the sight. Carefully arranged in drawers is an arsenal of instruments of correction: Tawses and straps, crops and martinets, whips and paddles. At least a dozen canes of varying size and thickness and a bundle of birch twigs — the latter not an experience she cares to revisit after yesterday.
“You’re not saying much,” he prompts, “or indeed, anything.”
Katia’s throat is suddenly dry. “I don’t know what to say. You hinted at something special, but this…”
“Think of it as a taster session I certainly don’t intend to tie you to every piece of apparatus, nor flog you with every implement in the room,” he explains. “You’re free to leave at any time, but within this domain you defer to me always.” He pulls her to him, looking at her closely with compassionate but steely-blue eyes.
Up until this moment Katia’s heart has been beating furiously, fuelled by a heady mixture of adrenalin and anxiety. This bewildering collation of emotions is now replaced by a feeling of calm certainty. There’s no need to debate her decision; she need live only in the moment. “I choose to stay and play,” she states plainly.
“Wonderful.” His pleasure at her words is evident. “Expect to be thoroughly dealt with.” Stepping behind her he slides the raincoat from Katia’s shoulders and leads her forward to the centre of the floor, where two loops of soft rope hang from sturdy hooks in the ceiling.
“Reach up,” he commands, binding each wrist until she’s stretched aloft, allowing the rope to take just a little of her weight, arms out flung like a supplicant, bound and helpless. Sliding a hand up each shimmering stockinged leg he nudges her feet outwards until the apex of her thighs, down to the teetering heels, forms an inverted V, then binds her ankles with two more soft strands of rope to large rings set into the floor. For the first time since they met, Katia is totally enslaved.
There’s clearly no possibility of argument and Katia, aware it is no longer her place to talk, says nothing. She shivers with an adrenaline rush of delight at the feel of his touch, as he delicately lifts the chemise to bare her breasts. Deft fingers gently twist her nipples, which swiftly stiffen in response. Palms cupped each soft globe, and his chest presses into her back. Katia sways, arching her body, pushing her bare buttocks back against his insistent erection. As if from the pendik escort bayan perspective of a spectator, she hears herself utter a deep groan of pure animal lust. She needs more, much more, longs to feel his possessive hands.
“Bad girl,” growls a stern voice. “Have you any idea what a lewd exhibition you’re making?” He blindfolds her with a length of black silk. All too briefly his lips brush her earlobe, she stiffens and yelps in shock as a hard hand slaps her bared buttocks without warning. Her poor bottom throbs, but gradually the sensation transforms into glowing warmth. Scarcely has she recovered, when Katia senses him kneel before her. Her sex pulses with expectation, and this time she’s not disappointed. Roughly he grasps her hips and lightly runs his tongue over her pubic mound, gleaming with feminine juices. Minutes pass blissfully, she emits groans of delight, grinding her hips forward to relish every probing touch of his skilful tongue; circling her engorged clitoris, pushing rudely between her labia, adeptly teasing the soft folds. Katia moans and implores, dignity long sacrificed to the goal of a shattering climax, no matter what the price. Then suddenly he’s gone, leaving her aching and empty, a confused mixture of frustration and craving. Petulantly she struggles against her bonds.
“You weren’t given permission to move,” admonishes a noticeably colder voice.
“How could I not, with you tonguing me?” Her words hang in the air, affording her ample time to regret them. She hears him move away, a faint rustling sound, then another long silence, during which every muscle of her body tightens. She waits, tense with apprehension, suffused by a heady mix of fear and expectation. The anticipated first stroke falls and she recognises the crop immediately; by sound as the leather slaps into her right buttock, by feel as the sharp linear sting made its blazing presence felt. Three more perfectly horizontal strokes land, delivered with a deceptively strong flick of his wrist; her pale flesh quivering as each sharp impact indents her flawless skin.
Mercifully he halts, enabling Katia to catch her breath while a deep, burning smart spreads across her defenceless, involuntarily twitching buttocks. Next the very tip of the crop flicks the underside of her sex-swollen breasts, catching the erect nipples, marking them with angry red blotches. She cries out in hurt and consternation, twisting on the rope in a useless effort to escape.
Silence, darkness; breasts and buttocks throbbing madly, craving caresses that never come, Katia is no longer startled when the chastising crop revisits her hindquarters, harder this time – real scorchers. Damn, Katia thinks, he is certainly laying it on, employing the full ümraniye escort bayan springy length of the instrument’s shaft to make her firm mounds glow hot and sore. The pattern continues, a pause, then four strokes to the upper fronts of her legs, leaving stripes visible through the welts of her stocking tops.
A further hiatus, then four cuts lash the back of her thighs bringing a sob to her throat. Time ceases to have meaning, he might, perhaps will, continue indefinitely. Katia has no protection other than an abiding trust in his awareness of her limits. He permits a brief interval before renewing the assault on her buttocks, the blows cross previous sore stripes making her hips jerk and weave in a frantic dance of despair.
“Oh no, please,” she begs, glistening tears squeezing from beneath the blindfold as she entreats clemency, high heels tap-dancing a staccato protest. The heat from Katia’s soundly beaten bottom fuels her incipient desire. He lets her wait, sightless and suspended, unsure where and when he might strike next.
Katia senses his need, proof positive he’s subject to the same atavistic forces of arousal and similarly aches for closure. She needs him deep inside her, but dare not speak the words out loud. He decides when.
Deft fingers free her ankles, untie Katia’s wrists and force her to squat in front of him. Holding her hair he pushes his cock between Katia’s lips, forcing her to suck the full length and bring his erection to its full potential, the better to mercilessly fuck her with.
Katia’s jaws are beginning to ache when he tugs her abruptly upright, propelling her across the room to kneel head down, buttocks raised, knees spread, on the bed. Six more strokes from the crop bite across the punished posterior she so brazenly presents for his pleasure, leaving marks visible for days after. The crop strikes her buttock cleft, flicking cruelly against her tightly puckered anus. Consumed by a wave of lust Katia’s labia pout in implicit invitation. Her chosen master enters her cunt without subtlety, holding her hips and sinking deep inside her.
Katia orgasms almost immediately but he, always in control, somehow manages to hold on, pulls a couple of pillows beneath her gyrating hips and propels her face forward, flat upon the bed. Dazed by the sheer force and intensity of his domination she can only writhe and mewl softly as a probing finger smears lubricant around her anus, searching out the small opening, plundering her final secret. Slowly, tenderly, he slides in his cock and vigorously fucks her arse, precipitating Katia’s second coming. They climax simultaneously.
Later, Katia – flushed and dreamy – sits with care and sips a glass of red wine; haunches inflamed with the aftermath of his punitive attentions, vagina and anus pleasurably pulsing, evidence of their passion.
“What are you thinking?” he enquires.
“Of our naughty weekend,” she replies. “I suppose it’s back to real life now,” she adds regretfully.
“We can create our own reality,” he tells her, “if that’s what you wish?”
Katia answers without hesitation: “Please continue to bring pleasure and pain into my life.”
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