Be Careful What You Wish For (18 page)

‘Pandora...'

The name drifted from between his lips, a murmured whisper mirroring his thoughts. And then, on impulse, he entered the room and, moving softly to the side of the bed, took up the blindfold from the chest of drawers and placed it over her still closed eyes.

‘Shadow?'

It was always Shadow who came to collect her, so why would she think any different? And how would he explain his presence to her? The change in what had always been? But then, it didn't matter. He was Master. He could do as he pleased.

She allowed him to lead. Even when the path seemed unfamiliar she accepted. Her trust was complete. Only when they stood a little apart in the oak-panelled library did he remove the blindfold and watch her confusion grow.

‘Dream Catcher...'

He watched her confusion grow. She hadn't been in this part of the house before. He had been saving it until after the Ceremony. Her gaze fell on the switch she had made earlier and he cursed himself for not having hidden it away.

‘Where is this place?' she asked. ‘And where is Shadow?'

How easily one lie led to another! It was too easy to enter a labyrinth of deceit and struggle with the need to remember the way he had come. ‘A change is called for, I think. Something different. Shadow will join us later... or then again, perhaps not.'

She heard the decisive derision in his voice, and yet sensed something he wasn't saying. The mood had changed. The room was different. She was out of her comfort zone. She wasn't sure what might happen next. And suddenly she wasn't sure.

With a firmness of hand, and yet with great gentleness given her uncertainty, he led her to the sofa. She was naked. It was easy to make her kneel and bend, pushing her milk-white cheeks towards him. She was wet. The unexpectedness of her situation was working well.

‘Now relax, Little One, this is a treat, something which should give us both pleasure, and you some much needed pain also.'

‘Yes, Master.' Still she was unsure... watching... waiting... wondering what might come.

He held her, smoothing and stroking each buttock, gently patting the area before repeating the pattern again. He continued for some minutes, and then began delivering a series of sharper smacks designed to turn up the heat after the initial warm up. There was a sharp intake of breath. Her body was squirming now, and he knew he had her right where she needed to be.

‘You will not cum until you have permission to do so. Is that understood?'

She gasped, and he brought his hand down sharply two, three times to each buttock, before resuming the pattern of before.

‘Yes... yes...
no
, I won't cum, Master.'

‘Good. Let that be understood. You haven't played with yourself in the interim, have you?'

Again he swept his hand down, smartly smacking each cheek in turn. He sensed the war going on inside her. Would she admit to her discretion?

‘Yes, Master, I'm sorry. I let you down. I had a moment of weakness, and I was missing you so...'

He was gladdened at her response. His heart sang. It meant at least she was still loyal to him. He wasn't losing the plot entirely. Something must be working. But he couldn't let it go.

‘You know you will be punished? It is necessary and deserving.'

‘Yes, Master... but how did you know?'

He let the question pass. It was of no consequence. It only mattered if he needed it to. Action would speak louder than words. He gripped her tighter and swept the palm of his hand down again, four times, her right buttock now reminiscent of a ripened apple, the skin smooth and supple, wobbling a little as he upped the pace.

‘Oh, Master, that hurts!'

‘But not enough it seems, because you still have breath for words.'

He mirrored the same on the left cheek, and then with consistent timing he upped the ante, with a series of short sharp smacks steadily progressing to increase the depth of pain. Beneath his hands her cheeks glowed. They were warm to touch. She was groaning; now not with anguish but with a deepening desire for more. He hadn't cuffed her. He knew he wouldn't need to.

‘Is this it, Master? Is this the punishment you're giving me?'

He laughed. ‘No. You think this is punishment? We both know it isn't. Feel it... understand the sensation. This is about pleasure more than it is pain. Relax into it. Your instinct will be to fight against it, to preserve your body, to hold back, to wriggle away. Instead, ride the emotion and let it carry you on its journey to a place from where you will not want to return.'

He was enjoying himself. Being Master wasn't just about meting out punishment, being in control, but rather in inflicting pleasure, at least to those deserving. His thoughts fleetingly turned to Shadow, cowering in the cage. He hoped right now he was feeling very alone, very abandoned. It paid sometimes to know another's breaking point. But then, this was not the time.

‘Come, join me over here and we'll try something different, something you haven't had before. I think it's time. And after the Ceremony there will be still something more special waiting for you. A surprise. But you'll need to wait until then to find out what it is, and in the meantime...' She followed him. ‘Now lie on your stomach across the table while I prepare. I think we'll have you bound so you can more fully enjoy the experience, knowing you cannot move.'

The coffee table was cold. He knew her nipples would stand out proud as they touched it, and he was not disappointed. He leaned down and fondled each of them, before displaying the rope and knotting a wrist to each leg. She raised her head to look at him, and her sparkling eyes reached in and through him, calling to his heart. He was in love with her, and he smiled. It was the most beautiful feeling on earth and one he'd never hoped to find again. But then here it was, staring him right in the face, and he wasn't going to lose it ever again.

He touched her face briefly before moving down to secure her legs in the same way as her wrists. His hands lightly caressed her body. It was beautiful. He remembered their first meeting in the hotel room, her reticence in revealing herself to him. Now without any hesitation at all she lay in front of him, proud, offering herself as a gift, trusting him to do right by her. They were ready for the final phase in the ceremony that was to come.

From one corner of the room he took a long narrow case and carried it to where she lay. Then turning his back so she couldn't see, he arranged things just so, and then selected his tool.

The movement, when it came, was gentle and slow, almost mesmerising. Pandora was stimulated by the experience, and Richard was pleased. He recognised the signs. Her body language showed that this was right for her. Now all he needed was to encourage, to develop, to enhance to the point of touching the pinnacle of the pain-pleasure experience.

He exchanged the small multi suede-stranded ‘Hawk' flogger for a ball chain. He understood from past experience the gentle swishing of it up and down the spine could produce the sensation of a waterfall affect, and was relaxing and yet at the same time invigorating, rather like a massage.

Her body was looking as if it had undergone a gentle tanning procedure. It positively glowed. He stroked and soothed, and was rewarded by appreciative murmurs. It was proving to be an exhilarating experience for them both.

The leather flogger was thick and heavy. It could be used for either smoothing or beating. He did both, and produced the desired affect.

‘Master...,' she mumbled, ‘please may I cum? It's driving me crazy...'

‘No.' His response was immediate. ‘You will hold that thought. I will tell you when to cum, do you hear?'

He swatted the leather flogger down with an almighty thud, and then again and again, landing with precision, listening to her squeals of pain interspersed with what he knew to be pleasure.

‘You haven't answered the question.'

Again and again he struck, squeezing from her the words, ‘Master... I've forgotten what the question was!'

‘I was instructing you that you do not cum until I say so.' He paused, listening to her rapid breathing. Watching the fire in her belly coarse through her veins to redden her skin, knowing she was struggling to hold the rapidly growing feelings inside.

He changed to a Python rubber flogger. Each instrument brought its own particular brand of pain. The trick was to build the sensations in such a way as to create a tsunami of feelings so great, so overwhelming, she wouldn't be able to hold back the torrent whether he ordered it or not.

Soon it would be the turn of his favourite tools. He was enjoying the session, the bond it was creating between them, and again he wondered if it had been wise to use Shadow to train her. He concentrated often on one type of play when there was so much more to use to tantalise and tease and draw out hidden feelings. Shadow had the tools of his trade. He used his experience well. But perhaps he had served his purpose. They had shared friendship and the common experience of grief, but maybe it was time to move on.

Pandora was writhing on the table. There was a growing sense of urgency. A need was building and would not be denied; at least not for much longer. She was ready for the grand finale, so he replaced the flogger and grasped his ultimate toy.

He held her ready, preparing her with words, yet knowing that words were so inadequate when she would ride the feelings which, in turn, would carry her to some far and distant place within her mind. He wished he could join her, but it was her own space and he would be an intruder. This was a journey she needed to travel alone. It was what he had promised her from the beginning, and there would be other times, and soon, when they would travel there together.

‘Listen now, my sweet...' He was aware the sensations were already taking her, but he continued all the same, saying it perhaps more for his own benefit than for hers. ‘A pleasurable BDSM experience depends on an experienced Dom or Master and the bottom or slave attaining the correct state of mind. We have achieved both. We are Givers. This day we have served one another well. And there will be other times, and soon... soon.'

With one hand he took firm hold just below her ribs on one side, and gently with the other hand caressed the soreness of her bottom, where the strokes of his favoured instrument would fall.

‘Together we have played the symphony of love. And you need to think of each sensation as a musical note set in our composition, which we have created together. It belongs to us. To this day. Now you are about to take it to another level and experience those different sensations in a medley of mixed emotions, taking you to our grand finale... and beyond.'

She was raising her buttocks towards him, seeking his hands, urging them on, wanting it... needing it... crying out for The One to finally complete the symphony and to make her cum.

‘Remember what I promised from the beginning; it is now time to release the endorphins and to truly make you fly.'

As an accompaniment to his words he was toying with her, playing with the valley between her buttocks, teasing it with the cane. The rattan was made up of three canes in one handle. Sweet! Anything else was too clumpy. Finally this would push her over the edge.

The
swish
of air was the only warning that came.

Her scream followed.

The endorphin rush had begun. Steadily it had been building even as she entered the room. Now it was time to give it wings, to let it fly free and take her beyond, to experience euphoria.

‘There will be six, six strokes of this very special cane, and on the sixth you can cum. But I think you will be ready for so much more by then.'

Again he brought the cane down hard across her bottom. The sting curdled a further scream, but in that scream was the sound of something else, something far deeper, and he knew with absolute certainty by the sixth stroke she would be gone.

The third stroke was yielded. He knew this was what being a Master was all about. It wasn't about the power to do this; the control and having someone subservient under him. This was about giving pain, but teaching the recipient how to give in to it, and to understand and know the absolute experience that comes when endorphins kick in. After all, it's the reason people dice with death in all manner of ways in order to achieve the kind of experience she was experiencing now; base jumpers, white water rafting, sky diving...

‘Four...' He felt the surge of energy within her.

‘Five...' Her body was twitching, gyrating.

‘Six...'

She lay still. At peace. Her bottom was like a badge of courage. Her head lolled down over the edge of the table. Gently he stroked her hair. She really was beautiful, and she was his... all his. No one else would have her or mark her or play with her. She was too precious. Too special.

It would take her a while to emerge from the deepest of sub-space where he'd sent her. He worked at the knots which held her, then gently carried her to the sofa, laying her on cushions to rest.

There was now time to settle the remaining loose end before he shared an evening meal with her.