Be Careful What You Wish For (22 page)

‘We will have tea, and we can talk. You will share with me your fears and fantasies, your most intimate thoughts and dreams.'

He faced her full on, watching her body language, the clear signals displayed, the emotion etched across the lines of her face, the wonder and confusion in her eyes. He knew the dilemma she faced; wanting to control the demons within, yet at the same time needing to be obedient to a Master.

Within this Chamber there was no sound of the party outside. The heavy folds of curtain subdued them completely, creating a secret cavern, a womb-like existence all their own. He hoped, with the right stimulus, it might prove a safe environment in which to share.

‘Sit on the stool at the foot of the bed, and drink your tea before it grows cold.'

The stool was long and cushioned. Gingerly Abi sat down. She couldn't see her deeply patterned bottom, but she could feel it well enough. And it hurt like crazy! She took the hot mug of liquid handed to her, grateful for the tea, milky and sweet, which revived her spirits, allowing her time to formulate in her mind what to say. But when the empty mug was taken from her and the Grand Master started to disrobe she knew it wasn't just talking he was after, but more, much more.

Drawing up a winged chair in front of her, his knees touching her own, he clasped her hands in his, holding her gaze before opening his mouth to speak. ‘How long have you had fantasies and thoughts about being submissive?'

She looked away, confused. The question caught her unawares. She wasn't sure how to answer, in awe of this seemingly great man sitting naked before her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘Look at me, now. Don't look away again or you will be punished.' His words were sharp, firm, pulling her back to his gaze. ‘Now,' he continued in a gentler tone, ‘share with me openly. Hide nothing. Tell me when you first remember having fantasies and thoughts about being submissive.'

Abi told him, hesitantly at first, about past abuse, controlling relationships, confusion, pain, and the gradual realisation that pain and pleasure were an intrinsic part of her fantasies, never understanding for one instant that this could happen in real life, that she might actually seek to live them for real.

He listened attentively, never moving, his eyes fixed on hers. He didn't speak until he was sure she had finished.

‘Now describe to me as vividly as you can exactly what turns you on and turns you off, both in fantasy and for real.'

She was relaxed now, calmer, her manner more assured. Her speech became more fluent as trust deepened between them. His response to her sharing made it easy for her to share.

‘And what do you feel makes you a slave? What do you have to offer in service?'

That was easy. There was so much in her life experience which led to this moment. As a giver, a carer, a homemaker, others' needs had always come first. It was dealing with her own life she found difficult, and without a degree of control she always found herself somehow on the point of pain at the hands of someone else, with no regard to her feelings or the kind of woman she was.

Questions kept coming. It was a cathartic experience, opening the window to her soul. He seemed to understand and had the ability to reach in and feel her pain, making it his own.

‘What are the most erotic parts of your body? What do you feel are your limits? What do you fear most to have happen in a session? Tell me your sexual history from as far back as you can remember.'

His questions were rapid, on the back of her responses to him, and in part she lost her fear, answering honestly and openly, feeling his compassion and his genuine interest in her need. She even shared about the scars crisscrossing her stomach, injuries sustained at another's hand where control mingled with abuse. Curious, he fingered them, watching her as he did to see what her response might be.

And he left her a few questions to consider long after the interview was at an end. ‘What is the difference between a submissive and a slave, and under which title do you feel you belong? Is submission a weakness or strength?'

Strange how she'd never considered either of them before. It hadn't seemed important. Were they important now? She was taken. She had given herself to Dream Catcher and Shadow, but she gave them no further thought, storing them in a corner of her mind.

He sat back in his chair. She was emotionally drained. But then, that was the idea. As he watched her mind clear of thought and her eyes become restful, he stood and walked to a chest at one side of the room.

‘Thank you for sharing with me, slave. You have done well. Now we will put some of the things we have talked about into practice, experience the affects. I want you to adopt the mindset of slave. That is about focusing on my instruction, holding your position, and being led only by the emotion with all thought banished from your head. Together we will experience and learn the way it is for you. Lie face up on the bed, feet at the top, head over the bottom touching the stool.'

Grand Master turned away, delving in the chest while Abi assumed the position, and as he moved to her side he found himself admiring just how special she was, looking at ways to enhance, develop and raise her to a higher Calling where her qualities could be best valued. He wished he had more time.

In silence he bound her wrists tight to the bedposts. Her head hung back so she was unable to see where he might go, what he would do first. But instead of tensing with fear she welcomed his embrace, yearning to feel those velvet-soft hands build a liquid sensation inside her and to be brought by him over the edge of desire to experience the orgiastic fullness of a climax, and then perhaps beyond into that place always she yearned to go... sub-space.

These were the hands that now parted her legs, fingers playing with emotion at the entrance to the cave. Fingers teased apart the shaven lips of her labia, feeling, rubbing, manipulating, causing a wild cascade of sensations to grip her body and make her squirm. He rubbed the upper part of the lips while inserting fingers deep inside her cave. She welcomed them with juices as they moved inside her. She was moaning, nearer, ever nearer that place she longed to be, arching her back for more. He inserted in place of his fingers a couple of vibrating eggs, turned to their maximum force.

‘Remember, slave, you won't cum until given permission to do so, on pain of punishment.'

His words were distant but she heeded them well, not wanting to risk a further beating. He spent time probing, touching, teasing. Then he moved to her tummy, holding her thighs as she reached towards him from the bed, inviting, seductive, enticing him to share.

He loomed above her, where she could see his hands holding her breasts. He sucked a nipple, gently biting with his teeth, persuading it to stand to attention before clamping it hard. Her moans changed to a gasp as he repeated the process with the left inverted nipple, using a humming instrument to hold the shy one out before it was clamped in the same way as the first. Then sitting to one side he stroked her hair, holding her head firmly, kissing her passionately. The vibrating eggs were driving her crazy with need. She writhed, fighting a losing battle with the scale of sensations driving her to the edge, and beyond.

He straightened, standing over her, running his penis around the lips of her mouth. It was long and hard. She wanted to push it away, to hold back, to take control, but as she struggled ropes knotted in a certain way only grew tighter. No matter how hard she struggled she remained vulnerable, open, able to offer only the smallest of cries of protest.

‘This is difficult for you, I know, but let's see if we can overcome a major fear together and help you through. This is about trust, obedience, giving all power to me and letting me take control. Can you do this now, for me?'

She gulped back tears of confusion, choking, gagging at the thought of having something so large in her mouth and throat without any ability to stop it, and he saw her trepidation.

‘Trust, obedience, submission; these are what you have committed yourself to, giving openly and freely, the essence of what this lifestyle is about.'

He walked away from her, and suddenly she was more afraid of rejection, of not being able to please, of not feeling the delight of his hands, his fingers, his body on and in hers... his seed in her mouth.

‘Please, I can do this. I can...' she hesitated a moment, ‘...but only with your help. I trust you, Master, to work with me through this. Please?'

In truth he'd walked away to collect a ring gag, which he proceeded to place behind her teeth, forming her mouth into a vulnerable ‘O'. Then again the cock came at her, slowly, surely, gently moistening her lips with pre-cum... demanding a way in. The foreskin rolled back and the plum of the helmet pressed inside; in and out... setting up a rhythm... not forcing... a pace he judged would be right for her.

He was a Grand Master, an authority, someone other Masters respected and looked up to, and he had learned the value of patience, of tolerance, of understanding and compassion. He had gained through the years a tremendous wealth of experience, shared and otherwise; knowledge and wisdom born of mistakes, knowing in the beginning especially he had let down people who were counting on him.

He was not someone above listening, supporting, learning, walking alongside those who had the gift of giving. In no way would he risk frightening this gentlest of maidens away. She'd been hurt badly in the past. This was not uncommon amongst slaves, given the submissiveness of their nature and ways in which that was mistreated and abused. Gentle handling was the key to unlocking her secret pleasure-pain need. In the right environment it was possible to make her strong, the kind of strength born of a freedom within. He suspected that, alongside this strength, it was possible she could inspire others, and together they might prove a formidable team.

Quiet now, she beseeched him with her eyes to be gentle, to let her come to no harm. He reached a sudden decision and changed tack, letting her go, removing the ring gag from her mouth, the intricate binding of rope around her wrists, and the eggs within. He knelt between her thighs, bound her legs around his waist, and holding her waist firmly, sank his erection into her.

A guttural squeal escaped from her throat. She sobbed in ecstasy and squirmed against him, willing him deeper and deeper, needing the release only he could give.

‘Come then, slave, let me give you my seed so we might be bound as one for this brief moment in time.'

She came then, juices flowing, mingling with his sperm, but instead of release she found her need growing greater, still urging her on, knowing no bounds. Totally out of control, unable to stem the tide of emotion that threw her against him she begged for more, and more, and again she came, her body arched, her hips raised, her nipples standing erect and proud.

He turned her onto her front, pushing her knees up, taking her from behind, slowly at first, feeling his way into her, and then drove his cock deep inside. Again he ejaculated, knowing she was cumming too, and finally she was spent.

 

Sometime later he bathed her, rubbing Witch Hazel into the cheeks of her bottom and oils to her back and front, massaging, easing the tension the storm of emotions had left in their wake. And then with soothing, encouraging words, he led her back to the main hall.

Music was playing softly. Bodies lay strewn as if a far greater battle had been fought here. Masters sat watchful over their slaves, but with the entrance of Grand Master they became alert as he led the newbie back into their midst, nudging their girls until they sat up on their knees, awaiting the final order of the day.

Abi recognised Alex, smiling at her, together with the hairdresser Shellie, both in various stages of undress. While Dream Catcher and Shadow stood to one side, a part of the proceedings yet apart from them, ready to administer to her needs, aware at this stage that their responsibilities and commitment to her were just about to begin in a way they never had before.

The Grand Master used a pulley to lower the platform which hung close to the ceiling. He bid her lie on her front, while he pulled her legs and arms and tied them to the four corners as if she were a large ‘X'. And as he used the pulley she realised with a sense of shock the centre of the platform had pulled away, and she was being raised from the floor attached only to the surround. And as she hung there, arms and legs outstretched, Grand Master presented her fully to the Masters and slaves at the Gathering.

‘It is my great pleasure to present, finally, our new slave Angel, whom we welcome as a part of our extended family. Make yourselves known to her. Treat her well.'

As he finished speaking, while she was still adjusting to this new and threatening position, without warning he covered her eyes, plugged her ears, and hooded her so that her world became silent and still. It was a strange feeling, hanging, and it came to her suddenly that she was flying, above and beyond, reaching across the horizon to a place where fantasy and reality fuse and everything is One.

Hands touched, fingers caressed. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Gradually her feelings aroused and heightened until she no longer had control over her body or her emotions. She relaxed into the experience, let go, and simply let it be.

At some point she drifted off somewhere in sub-space where she floated; no thoughts, no pain, no pleasure experience, just a gentle sway which took her and held her, suspended in time, unsure if it were night or day. And she didn't really care.