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Subject: {ASSM} Story: The Ad (part 2/2) New from Dino. (M/F BDSM) - the_ad.pt2 [1/1]
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 Standard Disclaimer:

 This story is an original work of fiction. It in no way resembles any
 persons living or deceased. It is purely a work of fantasy and is
 intended for the use of adults only. If you are under the age of 18,
 or are prohibited by law to have access to such materials, please stop
 reading now.

 Feel free to distribute this work freely, provided it remains
 unchanged, with credit given to the author. Please download and enjoy
 it! All I ask is that you e-mail myself with comments or questions.
 You can reach me at:   dino@canoemail.com


 The Ad:     Part 2/2		       C/W Dino Feb 2000


 Morning's gray light pushed past my eyelids as I began to waken.
 Samantha's head was on my shoulder, my arm around her, my fingers
 tangled in her hair. I could feel her leg over mine, the chain around
 her ankle digging into my shin. Her steady breathing pushed her little
 belly rhythmically against my side. The scent of last nights passion
 still lingered in the air.

 I shifted slightly to get the feeling back into my arm and Sam's eyes
 flickered open. She looked up and our eyes locked. She smiled.

 "Morning, sweety." I said.

 Sam moved her leg, discovering the chain locked around her ankle. She
 brought her hand down to encounter my usual morning erection. She
 giggled and wrapped her hand around it. She moved her head downward,
 trailing her hair across my chest, to touch her tongue on the end of
 my cock, then shifted a bit more to take the head into her mouth.

 Sam got onto her knees, then bent to continue sucking on me. I stroked
 her side with my hand, stretching to feel her ass. She tried to move
 her bum up closer to me but was pulled up short by the chain on her
 ankle, the lock banging against the bed frame, loud in the quiet of
 early morning. I obliged by moving around a bit until I could stroke
 her pussy. She continued the blow job.

 Her two labia rings were fascinating me. I tugged on them, gently of
 course, but then a little harder. I asked if that hurt and she shook
 her head, no. I yanked a bit harder. Sam put her teeth to my cock, not
 hard, but I got the idea. I flicked her rings with my fingertip,
 hearing them tinkle together. I could actually hear the pitch change
 as her lips puffed up with her arousal. Amazing. I pushed one finger
 inside her, stroking her in there, feeling the searing heat at her
 center, slippery wetness beginning to build.

 Sam started to bob her head on my cock. I slid in another finger,
 rubbing her clit with my thumb. Her movements became more energetic,
 sucking me hard, taking my cock deeper and deeper each time until she
 managed to bottom out with it deep down her throat. I started to get
 dangerously close then and had to close my eyes to the sight of her
 delectable body for fear of loosing it totally. Sam seemed to sense
 the change and removed her mouth from my cock. She sat back on her
 heels, pushing herself harder on my hand. Then she put one leg over to
 straddle me.

 She tried to get her pussy over my throbbing dick but the chain on her
 leg wouldn't let her. She pulled her foot against it, but of course
 steel doesn't stretch much. I amused myself for a minute watching her
 struggle, then I moved around until we lined up better and she sank
 down, enveloping me in slick, soft, warmth. At first she just sat
 there with my cock inside her, grinning wide as her juices leaked past
 it. Then she started a slow grinding against me, moving her hips in a
 little circle, stirring her pot with my dipper. She'd raise herself up
 and I could see her rings on either side of my cock. Once, I put my
 fingers there to press them against me. I could feel the two rings
 against my cock, two points of hardness in all that soft flesh. Wild.

 Sam bent down to kiss me and started a slow stroking of my dick by
 moving back and forth on top of me. I snagged her nose ring between my
 lips. I gathered up her hair in my two hands and pulled her head to
 mine while I toyed with her nose ring with my tongue. Sam moaned loud
 as a tremor ran through her, her foot pulling against the chain,
 rattling the lock. She began to buck harder on me, grinding her clit
 against my pubic bone. I was close too. A few moments later I pushed
 hard up into her as her cunt clamped tight on my cock. We gave voice
 to our lust in grunts and cries of ecstacy as we locked together in
 mind blowing orgasm.

 Samantha's long thick hair covered us both, draped from her head like
 a soft tickling blanket. Our faces were close, cocooned within her
 lush mane and I held her tight, kissing her softly for a while,
 savouring the peaceful after effects of our wild passion. My cock grew
 soft inside her, slipping out eventually, followed by a gush of warm
 wetness which I could feel spreading over my thighs and running down
 to the sheets underneath me. Definitely will need to do the laundry
 tonight, I thought. Sam moved off me and I reached for the key. I
 opened the lock, freeing her foot from the chain, then removed the
 other end from the bed.

 "Why don't you go get cleaned up while I start some breakfast." I said
 to her

 Sam went off to the bathroom and I stripped off the sodden sheets from
 the bed. I gathered up enough stuff for a load, then went to the
 kitchen and put on the coffee. I waited till Sam was finished in the
 shower before turning on the washing machine so as not to blast her
 with cold water. I had some bacon and eggs in the pan when Sam joined
 me in the kitchen looking fresh and clean, eyes sparkling and a big
 grin on her face. I poured her some coffee.

 I served my guest her breakfast, then went to the door for the morning
 paper. Over the meal we looked at the entertainment section. There
 were things going on at Harbourfront, a touristy area on the city's
 water front. There is usually music of some sort in a big bandshell
 there, and generally quite a nice place to spend an afternoon. Sam
 agreed. After I finished eating I grabbed a quick shower. I made up
 the bed with fresh sheets. When I was done I couldn't find Sam, then I
 looked out back, past the trees and saw her, sitting on the bench
 beside the pond. Morning clouds had given way to bright sunshine, a
 promise of a glorious day. I took a coffee, a few fish pellets, and
 went out to join her.

 Sam looked up as I approached, smiling brightly. I held out my hand to
 drop the fish food into hers, then sat beside her. Sam tossed a few
 pellets in, then watched as the fish darted around the plants,
 flashing in the bright sunlight to come up and snatch the food. As if
 on cue a big lunker jumped right out of the water to flop down on a
 lily pad, thrashed a bit, then rolled back into the water. Sam giggled
 with glee, a soft tinkling in the still morning air. I snuggled
 closer, nuzzled her neck, breathed in the girl's fresh scent.

 "I can't tell you," I began, "how glad I am to have met you, Sam. You
 are a really nice girl."

 "Thank you." she replied, then added, "Sir.."

 "It's Jim." I said. "You don't have to call me sir, or master. When
 we're outside like this we're equals, O.K.? Other times, like last
 night, it's different. If you want me to be `master' that's fine."

 "Thank you, master."

 I laughed, and so did she. Then she started to get a serious look
 about her.

 "Did you mean," she asked, "what you said last night, about, you
 know." She blushed a bit. "About spanking me?"

 "Samantha." I said. "You honour me by placing your trust in me to do
 that. And yes, I would be pleased to do it to you. Don't think you
 have to or anything. Last night was great, for me. Very nice. I would
 be more than happy if we stayed at that level of pleasure. If we do
 this and you find it's not for you, that's fine too, but if we take
 that step, and if that's what you want, I want you to be sure you know
 that I'll give you only what I'm certain you can handle."

 We sat for a moment, then Sam said, "Thank you. Jim."

 "Come on," I said. "I want to show you something."

 We stood up and I took Sam inside and down to the basement. In the rec
 room I switched on the lights, then walked her around the room,
 pointing out the concealed hooks in the ceiling, in the walls behind
 pictures. Mounting points for devices of some sort, anchors for ropes,
 or chains. The heavy coffee table in the center of the room, subtle
 wear points here and there, as if a rope or something had rubbed at
 the finish. In the work shop I brought down a wooden box, carvings on
 the sides and top, dusty. Untouched for years. I carried it reverently
 to the bench where I removed the twisted wire from the hasp and lifted
 the lid. We both looked inside in wonderment. I took some items from
 inside, my heart hammering in my chest, visions, memories, from a time
 so long ago.

 The leather dry and stiff. Metal work, buckles, chain, not as shinny
 and bright as I remembered. In the bottom, a couple of wood paddles
 which made Sam gasp, a small flogger, the strands twisted, dried out,
 the coiled whip in the very bottom. Untouched, unloved. Happy momentous
 from a past filled with joy.

 Was it wrong what I was doing? It somehow felt wrong, letting another
 woman see these things. Samantha's fingers touching the smooth surface
 of the paddle. That waxed surface which had smacked my wife's ass over
 and over until she cried out in pain, her screams shrill, deafening.
 Her moans as she orgasmed, low and throaty.

 Someone had told me, when I was at the lowest point, that Susan would
 have wanted me to get over her death, to move on with my life. I now
 hoped that was true.

 I took one of the leather cuffs and buckled it around Sam's wrist. She
 stood silent as I did, then she slowly brought her hand up to look at
 it. It was just a bit loose on her wrist, hers was a little thinner
 than Sue's had been. I took her hand in mine, felt around the cuff,
 then brought it to my face and kissed her wrist. The smell as I
 inhaled, the faint smell of the leather and, could it be? Susan?

 I took the cuff off Sam's wrist, tenderly placed everything inside the
 box and closed the lid. I left it on the workbench, under the light. I
 walked Sue back up to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and sat
 with her at the table. Neither of us had broken the silence since we
 entered the house. I now spoke.

 "It felt a bit strange showing you those things Sam. Showing you my
 wife's things. We had a lot of fun with all that stuff, many memorable
 moments. Yesterday, I feel, marked a turning point in my life. I know
 that I have a lot of emotional baggage that I've been carrying around,
 for too long now. You've only known me for a short while, and I can
 understand if you don't want to be bothered with me, but I really
 think I could give you what you want, make you happy, if you'll let
 me. I know that I'd love to try."

 "I can't imagine how hard it was," Sam said, "to lose someone like
 that. Your wife was a lucky woman to have what she had. When you took
 me in your arms that first time, last night, I saw then what you are
 like. When you sat and ordered me to take off my dress I knew that I
 would do anything you asked of me. Last night was wonderful, Jim. I
 want to see you more, lots more. Next weekend I want you to do those
 things to me. I need you to do it."

 I had to smile then. What an ego boost. This lovely creature
 practically begging me to paddle her bum, perhaps worse. I reached for
 her hand and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

 Sam used my comb to brush out her hair while I brushed my teeth and
 got ready. I watched her as she tied her hair back with the piece of
 red ribbon again. I held her in a tight embrace for a while before we
 went out and got in the truck for the drive down town.

 It was a gorgeous, roll down the windows kind of summer day as I sped
 down the highway. With my pretty companion by my side I felt on top of
 the world. About half an hour later I was nosing along, looking for a
 parking spot. It was still early and I found a place not too far away.
 The area was crowded with lots of people walking around, taking in the
 sights, the nice weather. We stopped and had lunch, fish and chips at
 an open air cafe by the water, then wandered around some more.

 A big area was packed with vendors tables selling all kinds of stuff.
 Sam found a nice short leather skirt which I liked as well.

 "Go try it on." I told her.

 Sam disappeared behind a curtain. She came out a moment later and held
 up her dress for me to see. I motioned for her to hike her dress up a
 little more. The skirt accentuated her narrow waist nicely and highlighted
 her lovely legs. She saw me smile.

 "You like?" she asked.

 "Yes, I do." I said and pulled out my wallet.

 "It's a little expensive." Sam said.

 "My treat."

 "No. I couldn't"

 "My treat." I said again. "You need a belt to go with it."

 The vendor offered me his selection of belts and I spied a nice silver
 chain one that I liked. I handed it to Sam. I held her dress up while
 she tried the belt on.

 "Let me pay half then." she said.

 I gave her a frosty look. It was so cute. Her mouth clamped closed and
 her eyes dropped. I just had to tip her head up and give her a big
 kiss. She smiled again. In front of all she took off the skirt, giving
 someone, I'm sure, a glimpse of her thin panties before her dress fell
 down to cover her. She handed it to me. I paid the man who bagged our
 purchase and we set off again. Sam held my arm as we walked along the
 wharf, looking at all the big boats tied up there. We found a quiet
 spot to cuddle for a while like two star struck lovers. Later on the
 beat from the bandstand drew us.

 The group was good, I could tell, but not really the kind of music I
 liked. Sam enjoyed it though. It was late afternoon before we returned
 to my Jeep. Sam gave me directions to her place, an older apartment
 building in a nice area, just to the east of town. I wrote my phone
 numbers at the hospital and at home on a card, then handed it to her.
 She gave me her number.

 "I'll call you in a day or two." I said. "I really want to see you
 again. Next friday? Like we talked about?"

 "Call me, Jim. I'd like that."

 Sam got out and I waited until she went into the building before
 driving away. I crused through the streets, found the expressway and
 powered up the ramp. Tunes blasting on the radio, the wind in my hair,
 life was, once more, good.

 On the way home I stopped at a store to pick up milk and some other
 things for dinner. Passing one shelf I noticed something that I also
 needed. Neetsfoot oil and some leather cleaner and conditioner. I
 picked up a bottle of each, I already had metal polish at home.

 When I arrived home I put on a can of soup to heat, then went down to
 the work room. The box was still on the bench, where I'd left it. The
 flogger was a lovely piece of work. Made special by a fellow I'd
 talked to at a country fair and he'd shown me some of his custom items
 in the back of his truck. I remembered the way it swung as I hefted
 it. I read the instructions on the bottles I'd bought, then poured
 some oil into my hand and carefully worked it into the strands of
 leather. I could feel the stiffness leave as the leather gratefully
 soaked up the nourishing oil. I left it to sit while I washed off my
 hands, then went up to make some dinner.

 After soup and a sandwich I returned downstairs. I spent the rest of
 that evening cleaning, repairing, and polishing the items from the
 wooden box, and the box itself, scrubbing the dust out from the
 carvings on it's surface. I'd made most of that box. I'm no artist so
 I cut the pieces of birch and fitted everything together. I copied
 some drawings from an old book I'd seen at a friend's house, lovely
 drawings of women tied up in various ways and positions. I took the
 box pieces and the drawings to a local artisan and had him do the
 carvings. When it was all done the result was simply stunning. It
 still was.

 The contents of the box survived their exile quite well, apart from a
 few small cracks here and there in the leather cuffs, which actually
 gave them a bit of character, I thought. The whips made it without any
 damage. The flogger, which had looked the worst, hung straight now,
 the leather strips soft and supple. More work was needed on the metal
 things, but I decided to call it a night and went upstairs. After
 watching a bit of news on the television I went to bed.

 Work started not too busy that week and I managed to finish up a
 couple of projects. Finished up the cleaning and polishing of the
 goodies in the box too. Wednesday, while surfing the net for some
 information, I stumbled across a sex site I remembered from before
 that gave me an idea. After trying a few incarnations of an old URL
 I'd thought of, without success, I hunted down a backup disk of old
 bookmark files. The page, and the nightclub had not moved. Fetish
 night at the Catacombs. This Thursday night. Doors open at nine.
 Excellent!

 That evening I called Samantha. She picked up on the third ring and I
 heard that soft, slightly husky voice that had started it all.

 "Hi Sam, It's me, Jim."

 "Oh hi. I was just thinking of you."

 "Listen, there's a nightclub down town that we use to go to and I was
 wondering if you would like to go tomorrow night." We? Oops. There was
 a pause, but Sam was thinking.

 "I don't have to be at work early on Friday. Not till ten thirty."

 I pressed on. "It starts at nine. If I remember, things don't get
 interesting until later, but I could have you back before midnight, if
 you want. It's a fetish night, a kind of a meeting of like minded
 people. People like me, and you. It might be interesting."

 "Sure. Sounds like fun."

 I spelled out the URL for her. "Check out the web site. Let me know if
 you change your mind. Oh, if you want to go, wear something fetishy,
 but not too outrageous. Mostly people go there to chat and stuff. And
 show off. Pick you up at nine?"

 "Thanks, Jim. I'll see you then."

 "Bye Sam. Love you." Oops, again.

 There was a pause, then Sam softly said, "Love you too."

 I heard the click as she hung up, then listened to dead air as my mind
 churned. Things seemed to be moving kinda fast, not like it use to be.
 I'd had Samantha in my bed not five hours after first meeting her. And
 now? The L word? The buzz of the phone shook me and I hung it up. Oh
 well. We are both adults, and I guess we both knew what we were
 looking for. Finding it so suddenly was just a bit of a shock to me.

 Thursday morning all hell broke loose. First, a site I'd made up for a
 client needed major changes. Right now. I sifted through the twenty
 pages, adding things they'd sent me, taking stuff out. I no sooner
 sent the changed files out when the Hospital called, big problems,
 system down. I jumped in the truck and spent the afternoon there.
 After that crisis was solved I rushed home to eat some take out,
 shower and change. I looked at myself in the mirror. Black jeans, a
 black tee shirt. Black hiking boots. Needs something, I thought.

 Not a watch. No. I looked in a drawer and found the two steel
 bracelets I use to wear a lot, before. Just round steel rod, bent in a
 circle and welded closed. I spent five minutes with the metal polish,
 making them gleam once more, then pushed them over my hands. I didn't
 remember them being so heavy but when I checked the mirror again I
 liked the effect. Back in the Jeep I pushed along the expressway and
 arrived at Sam's front door at five to nine.

 Sam was standing in the lobby waiting for me. I watched her come out
 and walk over to the truck. I leaned over to open the door for her.

 "You look great." I said.

 Sam was wearing the short leather skirt I'd bought for her. She had on
 a tight, belly revealing, silky looking shirt and had a black leather
 vest over that, open in front. Her arms were bare, as were her legs.
 Thick white socks at her ankles and black boots completed the outfit.
 She had on the chain belt and she reached into her pocket to pull out
 a matching silver dog chain. She held it up to her neck.

 "Would this be too much?" she asked me.

 I took the chain from her. Just your standard doggie choke chain, but
 it's links matched her belt almost perfectly. I put it over her head
 and worked it on. It was a tight fit over her head, but it fell down
 nicely around her neck. I gathered up her hair to pull it through from
 under the chain.

 "It's perfect." I said.

 When I'd put the chain on Sam I watched her eyes following my
 bracelets. She reached out and touched one, felt it's weight. Solid
 steel, the feelings that they brought to me, bewitching, in a way. She
 told me that she liked them. I got the truck moving and pulled out
 onto the street. It was only ten minutes to the club, the street busy
 with people and cars since there was a lot of bars and dance clubs in
 that area. I pulled into a parking lot, paid the man, and we walked up
 to the club. It was just like I remembered it.

 My wife and I use to come here a few times a year. We always had a
 swell time, met many interesting people, made a few good friends.
 Friends I had not seen since, then. Inside I recognised a few faces,
 talked to a few people. Introduced Sam. She was a bit nervous at
 first, but after being warmly greeted by my acquaintances I could see
 her grow more at ease. Her jewelry sparkled in the dimly lit bar, as
 did that of everyone else. Not quite jewelry, some of it. Chains,
 buckles on ever more bizarre costumes, harnesses. A good crowd, that
 night.

 I watched Sam stare in wonder, or awe, at two lovely ladies, decked
 out in most intricate harnesses. The two girls were beautiful indeed,
 twins, no less, and to make sure they didn't loose each other they
 were handcuffed together. They both wore wide leather collars.
 Attached to each was a thin chain lead. I tore my eyes from the girls
 to follow the chains to the hand holding on to the ends. The man's
 other black leather gloved hand was extended towards me. I shook it.

 "Mike! How the hell are you?"

 "Long time no see, Jim." said Mike. "And who's this darling creature?"
 he asked, turning to Samantha.

 I introduced Sam to Mike, a guy I'd known since high school. Captain
 of the football team, student union president, all around good guy. I
 felt it was unnecessary to mention he was a Dominant, the two girls
 with him had knelt by his side as we spoke.

 "Let's go find a table." he said.

 His two subs stood and we went to Mike's table near the stage. Mike
 was a regular here, often providing some of the nightly entertainment.
 In deference, I thought, to Samantha's newness to the scene, he
 allowed his girls chairs to sit around our table.

 "Lisa and Lisell," he introduced his lovely girls as. "Found them
 when I was in Germany last year."

 The two looked to their master for permission. I saw Mike nod.

 "Pleased to meet you, Sir, Madam." they said in unison, the accent
 touchingly charming. The girls briefly shook Samantha's hand, the
 handcuffs jangling. They didn't shake mine; I didn't offer it. Certain
 complex rules had to be honoured, amongst them, no touching another
 Dom's sub unless explicitly offered. The club had rules too, mostly to
 keep things legit, and for the patrons safety. Sam could get away with
 it since it was understood that she was my sub, therefore the three
 girls at the table were as equals.

 A bottle of white wine magically appeared on the table. A tray of
 glasses were brought over. The twins poured and served, with grace.
 Mike raised his glass in my direction.

 "A toast." he said. "To Jim Bradson. Good to see you back." He turned
 to Sam. "And with a lovely lady. He'll do right by you, darling."

 Sam and I listened to Mike describe his latest adventures. As usual it
 was far from boring. Mike had always lived life to the fullest. Not
 taking, he was kind hearted to a fault, but seizing the moment, making
 it his. Shaking passions from the simplest things. He asked what I've
 been up to.

 I thought for a moment. I shook my head. "Not a damn thing, Mike.
 Work, sleep, exist." I turned to Samantha, took her hand in mine. "It
 took this fine young lady to wake me up, to make me see again."

 I pulled her close, hugged her tight. We locked eyes, then lips, in a
 long smooch.

 "Oh ya! That's the way." exclaimed Mike.

 He could see it, see it in the way we embraced, in our eyes. I knew it
 too, that Samantha and I were meant for each other. Corny, I know, but
 destined to find each other. I hooked my fingers in the chain around
 her neck, pulled gently, possessively. We broke the kiss. Sam sighed
 softly as I held her head, her chain, stroked her hair.

 Another bottle of wine was brought. Sam needed to use the bathroom so
 I went with her. After she came out we walked around a bit in the
 club, looked in on the other rooms. Women, and men, some chained to
 the walls, to various pieces of equipment. Being spanked lovingly by
 their masters or mistresses. No sex. One of the club rules. No genital
 nudity, but bare breasts were allowed. No blood letting, no water
 sports. The bondage was mostly symbolic, the spanking too. The real
 deal takes place later, in privacy, at home. After a while we returned
 to Mike's table. His two girls were gone.

 "Where's Lisa and Lisell?" I asked.

 With a flourish of his arm Mike said, "It's Show Time!"

 As if that was the cue, which knowing Mike it probably was, the lights
 on the stage flared to brightness. Over the speakers the voice of the
 announcer boomed out.

 "And now, ladies and gentlemen. Catacombs is proud to present:
 Mistress Natasha."

 Oh oh. Mistress Natasha. Kate, as I knew her, stepped out on the stage
 with a purpose. In her hand were two chain leashes, on the other ends
 were Lisa and Lisell, still handcuffed together. A roar went up from
 the crowd. The bar was packed now, people streaming in from the other
 rooms, standing room only. Mistress handed the leashes to another man
 dressed in, black, naturally. A solid looking bar was lowered from the
 roof. Padded cuffs dangled. The man led the twins to the bar, attached
 the four cuffs around four wrists. Then, from off stage, the bar was
 raised until the two girls heels were just touching the floor, their
 bodies stretched alluringly. Kate looked stunning in an all red
 coloured outfit, silver accents gleaming in the stage lights. A wicked
 black whip hung coiled on her belt. She stood tall, arms folded across
 her chest, waiting while the twins were readied for her.

 It was when Susan first expressed an interest in getting whipped that I
 was set up with Kate. I tried spanking Sue, tried a whip on her. But
 It never felt right. I didn't want to hurt her. I talked about it with
 Mike. "No problem." he said. "I know a lady who does it for a living.
 Makes good money with it, has her own dungeon and everything. You go
 see her, she'll show you how. Let you have a taste, so you know how it
 feels." I talked about it with Sue. "Great idea." she said. Ya, right.

 Next day I was knocking on Kate's door, a bungalow on a quiet suburban
 street. She led me downstairs. Showed me how. Gave me more than a
 taste. I couldn't sit properly for a week. But I found out what I
 needed to know. It had hurt, sure, but I did see, I began to
 understand the attraction. My face must have turned as red as my butt
 when Kate pointed it out, after she'd finished with me. I hadn't even
 realised it myself. My cock, standing proud, as hard as a rock.

 On the stage now, Kate uncoiled the whip. She stepped up to the two
 girls, their harnesses removed, skimpy leather thong bottoms keeping
 it legal. The show began. Mistress Natasha slashed at the two writhing
 beauties, not all that hard, not like she'd done me, but putting on a
 good show nonetheless. The marks appearing on the twins bodies were
 real. As were their reactions to it. Samantha was squeezing my hand so
 hard I felt the bones grating together. I moved my chair closer to
 her, put my arm around her. She'd tremble at each blow of the whip. I
 held her tighter and with my free hand I stroked her breasts through
 her slippery top. Her nipples were two hard pebbles pushing against
 the material.

 Samantha's eyes were wide, fixed on the scene upon the stage. She was
 squirming on her seat now, flexing her thighs. I stroked her nipple,
 gave it a little pinch. She began to make little noises. She was close
 to cumming, I realised. I whispered in her ear.

 "Your turn, tomorrow night, Samantha."

 Sam went tense. Her eyelids lowered. She began to cum, letting out
 a low throaty growl as she started to shake and grind her bottom
 against her chair while I tweaked and rubbed her nipples. Mike looked
 over at us, at Samamtha. I saw his grin spread as he realised what was
 happening to Sam. He chuckled.

 Kate finished up the show with a flurry of lashes to both girls,
 striking them hard, making them scream and twist. Red tracks marked
 them from shoulders to knees, on their backs, and a few in front where
 the whip had curled around their bodies. As suddenly as it began, she
 stopped, the girls writhing and moaning loud. The crowd went wild,
 roaring it's approval as the bar was lowered a bit and the two girls
 were released. They were led off stage by Mistress Kate.

 Perhaps ten minutes later Kate returned the twins to Mike's care,
 still handcuffed together but wearing soft cotton robes. One shoulder
 was bare, the arm with the handcuff. The robes tied closed along one
 side. The two girls foregoing their chairs, preferring to kneel beside
 Mike. Kate came over to sit beside me. She gave me a little kiss on
 the cheek, smiled at Sam.

 "Jim, you old dog, I haven't seen you in ages." she said. "How have you
 been?"

 "I've been O.K. Kate. Keeping busy."

 "So I see. Who's this pretty thing?" she asked

 I introduced Samantha, told Kate we'd just met last weekend.

 "Mmmm." Kate actually purred with delight. "Bring her around some time
 Jim. I'd love to see more of her."

 I had to laugh. "I may just do that, Kate." Sam looked at me with wide
 eyes. I couldn't tell if it was fear, or expectation. I chuckled
 wickedly to her.

 "Or I might just keep her at home, chained to my bed."

 "Jim," Mistress Natasha said, "for this one, I'd make a house call."

 We all laughed, even the twins. Kate had to leave, she had an
 appointment booked, she said. Mike caught my eye, motioned to the bar.
 I told Sam to wait, I'd be right back. Mike and I stood, walked over
 to the bar where he ordered us drinks, me asking for a coffee since I
 would be driving. We stood at the bar and chatted for a while.

 Mike asked me about Sam and I told him how I'd answered her ad and she
 was the result.

 "Wow!" he said, "That's great. I thought those things were for
 loosers, but she's a real knockout."

 "Well, she knew what she wanted but she had a couple of bad
 experiences," I said. "I guess she figured it would be a safe way to
 meet someone, people like us."

 "Ya, I guess it would." Mike agreed.

 While we were talking I kept looking over at our table, at the lovely
 ladies there. Sam had moved over and was talking with the twins.
 Lisell, or was it Lisa, lifted the other's robe a bit and Sam starred
 intently at the girl's whip marks.

 "Check it out." I nodded towards the table.

 Mike turned to look. Samantha traced one of the red marks with her
 finger tip. The twins held each other. The three talked, no doubt
 about the nature of the conversation. I said to Mike I thought his
 girls were lovely.

 "Fuck, Jim," he said, "those two are the best. Hot? You can't imagine
 how much. They'll kill me in a year or two, but I'll die with a stiff
 prick and a smile on my face. Then when I'm gone they'll just do each
 other."

 "No way."

 "Way, dude. After they finish with me they get it on with themselves.
 I sit back and watch. Yup, those two are keepers, for sure. One night
 they started spanking each other, each trying to make the other cum
 first. Fucking near blew my mind, watching them go at it."

 The girl's talk had ended and I motioned that we should get back. It
 felt late as I sat beside Sam again. I said that we should go. Sam
 said yes so we stood and said our goodbyes. Mike told me not to be a
 stranger and I said I'd see him again soon. The evening had
 strengthened my resolve to pull myself from the shell I'd built up
 around me since the death of Susan. If Sam was to be a part of my life
 now, so much the better.

 I held Sam close as we left the club and walked to the car. She was
 quiet as I drove back to her place, lost in thought. When we got to
 her place she asked me if I could come up for coffee. Well, it's late,
 I said. It was well past midnight. Please? she asked and I said O.K.

 She lived on the seventh floor, a nice one bedroom with a view of the
 lake, sort of. The first thing I noticed was a big tank of fish, four
 plain goldfish, but the setup complimented the room nicely. The
 apartment had a kind of cozy cottage decor, nothing expensive or
 elaborate. Comfortable. I kicked off my shoes. Sam put the kettle on,
 then came to sit beside me. She didn't say anything at first. I broke
 the ice.

 "Did you enjoy the club?" I asked.

 "Yes, Jim." she began, "I did. While you were off with Mike I spoke
 with Lisa and Lisell."

 "I watched you."

 Sam went on. "I asked them about the whipping. I expected them to tell
 me about how much pain they were in, but you know? All they talked
 about was how much they enjoyed it. They said they were a little
 disappointed it didn't go on longer, that it wasn't hard enough for
 them."

 "Kate's the best. She knew what she was doing."

 Sam smiled. "Your friend Mike is going to have fun tonight. The girls
 were primed."

 I chuckled softly. Sam heard the kettle boil and stood up. I told her
 tea would be fine. In a moment she returned carrying a tray with the
 teapot and two cups. She sat beside me once more. She was quiet again.
 After a few minutes she poured the tea, then settled into the couch,
 nestled close to me. She spoke.

 "I don't know if I can do this. I had a picture of it in my mind, of
 how it would be. But seeing it for real, on that stage tonight, I'm
 not so sure now."

 "You don't know, Sam. No one knows, their first time. There's only one
 way to find out if that kind of thing is right for you. You have to
 feel it. You have to experience that kind of pain to understand if
 it's something you can derive any pleasure from. Kate told me this
 once, that everyone is different. Some people like to be tied down
 while they are beaten, others enjoy expressing their self discipline by
 submitting freely to the lash. A spanking with a bare hand, a paddle,
 the whip, each a distinctly different feeling. Maybe you'll find no
 pleasure in any of it, and that's fine too. But then, at least, you
 will know and understand what it's all about."

 I told Samantha how I couldn't understand it at first. How such pain
 could be transformed into any kind of pleasure. But I had allowed Kate
 to show me, let me feel it. And after, I knew it was not something I
 would seek, but at least I understood it better.

 "You let Kate whip you?"

 "When I was younger, first married to Susan, yes. I had to learn how
 to do it right. I had to understand why Sue wanted me to hit her. And
 after, I did. It was the night after, the marks on me, the pain, still
 fresh in my mind. Susan use to talk about that first time, how it was
 the best night of her life. A kind of an awakening in the both of us."

 I sipped my tea, stroking Sam's head soothingly. "Tomorrow night, Sam.
 I'll pick you up around six. Dinner, and then. . ."

 Sam thought a bit, then said O.K.

 "Just remember," I said, "I want this to be good for you. Any time you
 want to stop or need me to go slower, I will."

 I stood to go. At the door I held Sam close, gave her a kiss which she
 returned with a surprising passion. When we finished I opened her door
 and left. Leaving her apartment was difficult to do. I would have
 loved to stay and fuck her brains out, I felt that she wanted me to.
 But she was to take an important step the next night, and I wanted her
 to be ready for it. If this worked out like I hoped it would there
 would be plenty of fucking later.

 Friday morning I handled a minor crisis at the hospital with my usual
 efficient aplomb and called Sam around three thirty to tell her I'd
 pick her up at five. When I pulled up in front of her building I saw
 her waiting for me in the lobby. She ran, smiling widely, to the truck
 and climbed in. She leaned over and gave me a huge kiss before we set
 off. I drove to a restaurant nearby where we had a light supper.
 After, we went back to my place.

 As I got closer to home I could sense Sam's unease building. However
 my chat with Mike last night had been just what I needed to firm my
 resolve. I knew that I would have to take the upper hand with Sam,
 that was what she expected and also what she wanted. I'd gone over
 this scene in my mind several times the past week. All I had to do was
 follow the script and guide her through it, adlibing where necessary,
 but hopefully it would all play out satisfactorily. I'd set the stage
 this morning, laid out the props. Now, the actors had arrived.

 I drove up my drive and parked in front of the house. We got out and I
 moved up to Samantha. I took her arms to look into her eyes.

 "You're sure about this?" I asked her.

 She looked down. "I'm not going to back out now." She looked up again.
 "Yes. I want this.. Sir."

 I opened the door to the Jeep. "Take off all your clothes, put them on
 the seat."

 Sam looked at me. She looked around her. There was no one around for a
 mile. Even from the road, the way I'd parked the truck, anyone passing
 by wouldn't see anything. I saw it in her eyes before her hands moved,
 that she would do it. Slowly at first, she began to remove her dress.
 I almost laughed out loud, stifling it with effort, as I saw she had
 on a silky slip underneath, slippery smoothness to later caress her
 soon to be tortured bum. Sam took off all her clothing, even her
 shoes, and placed them on the seat of the Jeep. When she stepped away
 I reached in and clicked the locks, then slammed the door closed. Sam
 stood naked in my front yard, shivering slightly but not from cold.
 Trembling with barely suppressed excitement.

 "Let's go." I said.

 I walked up to the front door, Sam following meekly behind. I turned
 the key in the lock and entered. The cuffs on the small table inside
 the door gleamed in the light, black leather, shinny silver accents. I
 took Sam and firmly pushed her against the wall. I applied the cuffs
 to her limbs, two for her wrists, two for her ankles, closing the
 buckles and using four small brass padlocks to secure them on her. I
 took the bigger lock, pulled the key and pocketed it. Then I turned
 her around and moved her hands behind her back. Slipping the lock in
 the two rings on the cuffs I clicked it closed. I spent a few moments
 smoothing her hair over her arms and molesting her tits. I took her
 head in my hands, pressed her up against the wall, her hard nipples
 against my chest, and I kissed her passionately. When I moved away she
 swayed slightly, then opened her eyes.

 "Let's go." I said.

 In the kitchen I had her sit down. On the table before her, two locks
 and a short piece of bright chain which I used to hobble her. I took
 her arm to bring her to her feet, then I guided her to the basement
 door. The chain between her ankles was short, I knew, and she had a
 little trouble on the stairs. I held her arm on the way down, in case
 she stumbled, but she didn't.

 There was a door to the rec room which I hardly ever closed. I'd
 installed it, salvaged from an old house nearby that had been
 demolished. Heavy, oak I thought. Dark lacquer finish. The sort of
 door to, perhaps, A Dungeon? At the bottom of the stairs I rattled the
 knob, then shouldered the door aside, banging it heavily on the stop
 inside the room. The hinges even creaked a bit. I heard Sam's gasp
 from behind me as I strode into the room.

 I snapped on the lights. I'd turned all the track lights towards the
 center of the room, to the coffee table there. On the couch, a blanket
 and a pile of white nylon rope. Taking up the folded blanket, I draped
 it on the top of the coffee table forming a soft padded surface for my
 captive. I turned to Samantha who was still standing shell shocked in
 the doorway.

 "Come here."

 Sam shuffled slowly towards where I stood. When she reached me I
 turned her around and unlocked her hands. I bent down to remove the
 chain from between her ankles. Then I guided her to lay face down on
 top of the low table. Her head was facing the bar and when she looked
 up I heard her gasp again. The front of the bar was finished with
 mirror tiles, patterned in a gold leafy design. I glanced and saw
 Samantha's reflection, a worried, slightly scared look on her face,
 the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

 The coffee table was a solid, rather ugly looking thing I'd found at a
 flea market one day. Something one wouldn't look twice at, a place to
 put your beer, rest your feet on. Suitable for a cottage, or a rec
 room, perfect for what I had in mind. Susan always enjoyed her
 sessions on the table. After I'd lugged the thing home and downstairs
 I had made a few modifications. Four one inch holes bored along the
 thick rails underneath the top, along each side. If one looked
 underneath you would find a curious looking bracket mounted in the
 center of the top with a hole through it. After I'd refinished the
 table, my modifications blended into the utilitarian look of the thing
 nicely.

 I picked up the length of rope and began to tie Sam down to the top of
 the table. I threaded one end through the ring on her wrist cuff,
 passed it through a hole in the table's side, underneath to the other
 side. Through a hole there and her other cuff ring, then under, to the
 center. I put both ends of the rope through the center bracket, pulled
 them even, then moved to the rear. I did basically the same thing to
 the cuffs on her ankles, pulling until her feet left the floor to
 become held fast at the sides of the table top. Then I threaded the
 two ends of the rope back through the center bracket and, pulling up
 all the slack, I tied a simple slip knot. Samantha watched everything
 in the mirrored surface before her.

 Her thighs were spread apart, knees bent, and her feet, held by the
 cuffs, the soles facing up, were even with the top at one end. Her
 hands were pinned at the sides, near her waist, about at the center
 point of the table. I went behind the bar, opened the fridge and got
 myself a beer. I cracked it open, then went and sat on the couch to
 watch Sam struggle. I knew, and she discovered, that she could raise
 herself up off the table a few inches, but I knew, and she discovered
 that with her arms and legs spread like they were, it was a strain to
 hold that position for long. She slumped back down. She could slide
 herself up and down a few inches, which she tried. She found that if
 she stretched far enough she could get her head off the end of the
 table to look underneath and see the rope tied in the center, the ends
 dangling tantalizingly. One tug and she would be free. But unless she
 grew another arm she would remain good and stuck, tied to the top of
 the table.

 With her thighs spread she could get no pressure against her pussy.
 When she slid herself on the freshly waxed table top the blanket under
 her body slid with her allowing no friction against her nipples. She
 turned her head to look at me. I drank my beer. After a while I moved
 closer and began to lovingly stroke her back and bum with my hands.
 Sam returned her gaze to the mirror, watching herself, and me, as I
 worked my hands up and down her lovely back. Within her strict bondage
 she was already hot. Now, as I touched her, she started to arch her
 back, trying to grind her pussy into the blanket. I felt the muscles
 in her thighs straining as she fought to force some pressure against
 her clit, but it was no good and she fell back down, moaning softly
 with her need. I traced one finger through her slit, between her labia
 rings and she jumped.

 I stood up, drained my beer, then went to the bar and put the empty
 away. On the bar was a tiny brass padlock which I'd picked up earlier
 in the week. I held it low so Sam could see it. I opened it, then
 withdrew the keys and placed them on the bar. At first Sam didn't get
 it. Then her eyes got wide and I knew that she knew where that lock
 was going to go. I knelt down beside her and touched her there once
 more. Then I passed the lock through her two labia rings and carefully
 clicked it closed.

 I'd filed off all the edges of the lock, polished it smooth. It wasn't
 so heavy, but in such a sensitive place I'm sure Sam would know it was
 there. Wonder of wonders, it pulled her rings down a bit, the body of
 the lock resting right against her clit. Sam wiggled her bum a bit,
 wiggled it again. I sat back down on the couch to watch. As much as
 her bondage allowed, and that wasn't much, Sam started bucking and
 wriggling as the little lock banged and rubbed against her clitty. She
 started to shift her ass around, putting on a highly erotic display as
 she tried to get off on the lock rubbing her. But the position she was
 in, combined with the little lock swinging wildly around in her
 crotch, she just couldn't orchestrate the motions enough to push
 herself over the edge.

 The wild gyrations of her shiny rings and the lock, silver and gold
 flashing in the lights, held me hypnotized for perhaps ten minutes
 while Sam thrashed on the table before me. Finally she gave it up to
 lay, panting in unsatisfied heat, staring at her reflection in the
 mirror, sobbing slightly with frustration. I guess the sight of
 herself, so close to release, so helpless, would drive her to attempt
 to get herself off once more and she would start to move and then
 thrash wildly in attempt to get enough stimulation to finish, but
 would soon slump back down, the orgasm she so desperately craved
 close, but still too far. I stood up. It was time to get the whip.

 I went to the back of the room and picked up the wooden box from a
 table there, then returned to Samantha with it. I held the box to her
 face while she tried to focus her eyes on the back panel. The carving
 on the back, my favourite for some strange reason, depicted a girl
 bound face up on an altar of some kind. The drawing I'd chosen for
 that panel was that of the classic virgin sacrifice, the stone altar,
 the naked girl shackled to it at wrists and ankles. The shrouded
 priest in the background, the knife held high. After Sam had gasped
 and moaned I set the box down on the floor by the mirrored front of
 the bar. I left the lid open, the box positioned in such a way that
 Sam could see every side, either directly or in the mirror. From it, I
 picked out the flogger.

 Before her wide eyes I shook out the supple strands, letting her get a
 good whiff of freshly oiled leather. She tilted up her head and we
 locked eyes for a brief moment. I didn't say anything. She did not
 either, just returned her gaze to the mirror in front of her. I moved
 to her side, took my position. Sam tensed as I brought the whip back,
 then made it crash down on her beautiful, unblemished behind.

 I put a fair amount of force into that first stroke. Samantha let out
 a little "Oh!", and closed her eyes for a moment. I paused until she
 opened her eyes again, then let fly another. I didn't wait for the
 next one, I started slashing her once about every three seconds or so,
 a nice easy rhythm. Her body would jerk each time and I noticed the
 lock on her labia rings jump and smack down on her clit. A nice bonus,
 I thought, as I hit her again across the bum.

 I began to place my strokes upwards, softer at her lower back, where
 the kidneys are, but more firmly higher up. This flogger was not as
 wicked as some I'd seen, Sue enjoyed it as a warm up to something more
 serious. But for a first time it was quite suitable, nice feel to it,
 good balance. Oh, on the other end, the pain, not really sharp or too
 stingy, more like exquisite. Sam's body grew all tense and she
 strained against her bonds, but not from expectation of the next blow.
 I saw a small spurt of girl cum shoot from her cunt and I smiled wide.
 She'd had her first little orgasm of the evening. I gave her two
 softer, quick strokes, on each side of her, the strands finding the
 sides of her breasts an inviting target. She shook and moaned loud as
 her orgasm peaked, then began to decline.

 I paused for just a moment to give her time to settle, then I
 continued. I began again on her bum, then slowly started to work my
 way downwards. Her thighs, stretched slightly by her position on the
 table received several well placed blows, the strands finding their
 way around those lovely limbs. Once, I slightly misplaced a blow and
 one of the strands flicked against the lock at her opening. A gentle
 kiss that bounced the lock against her clit. Her legs spasmed, driving
 her body forwards a little. Sam moaned low and loud.

 I switched to a flurry of blows to the soles of her upturned feet. Her
 moan changed to a higher pitched wail and another gush of clear liquid
 practically sprayed from her cunt, drowning her rings and the lock,
 wetting her legs and soaking the blanket under her. She shook and
 writhed, trying to escape the pain at her feet while she screamed
 loud. I stopped. Sam was still cumming hard as I lay my hand in her
 crotch and stroked her there. The sudden change of sensation brought
 her down with a bang and she lay panting and exhausted on the table
 while I gently stroked her burning hot pussy. Her skin had an all over
 pink glow where the whip had landed, with several spots of reddish
 highlights.

 Samantha had yelled and screamed a lot during the session but had not
 once asked me to stop. Feelings of pride began to well up in me, pride
 in her, in the way she'd handled it. I reached under the table and
 pulled the rope, holding the ends to gently lower her feet to the
 floor. I pulled on the rope in front to draw it out and away, freeing
 Sam completely. Her eyes flickered open to stare up into mine. I
 smiled.

 "Lay still," I told her, "I'll get something."

 From the bar I got a bottle of witch hazel lotion which I gently
 rubbed into Sam's skin wherever it was pink and red. I applied some to
 the bottoms of her feet where I'd whipped her, lovingly massaging it
 into her tortured flesh. After I'd finished, the lotion helped to
 sooth her pain and she was smiling once more. I helped her off the
 table to stand gingerly while I kissed her passionately. Before we
 left the room I snatched the keys to her pussy lock from the bar. I
 was going to need them later.

 Upstairs I found her a soft cushion so she could sit at the table
 while I made us some tea. While the water heated I sat with her. I
 held her hand, waited for her to speak. It wasn't long.

 "That was nice," she said, "Not like I expected it to be."

 "Are you sore?" I asked.

 "A little." She answered. "That stuff you used helped. Thanks."

 "Thanks?"

 "For showing me, for being so nice about it. I know you could have hit
 me harder. Maybe next time we could try it, harder I mean."

 "So you want to do this again sometime."

 Sam looked up at me, a huge grin on her face. "Yes, I would like
 that."

 Here was this beautiful woman, sitting naked in my kitchen except for
 the leather cuffs locked around her wrists and ankles, telling me that
 she would like me to whip her again. Harder. What a rush.

 "Sam," I said, "you handled it very well. I'm pleased that everything
 went so nicely and I will be happy to take things farther next time,
 if that's what you want."

 "Thank you, Master."

 I made the tea, found some biscuits and carried it all on a tray to
 the bedroom. As Sam walked I could hear the little lock between her
 legs clinking against her rings. We had tea in bed while I rubbed more
 of the soothing lotion on her whip marks, then we just lay naked
 together and cuddled for a long while. Sam took my throbbing cock to
 rub it against her, against her locked pussy. Finally I took the keys
 to open her little lock and we screwed each other's brains out for the
 rest of the evening.

 Later on I used the chain to lock Samantha's foot to the bed and she
 slept like that, the four cuffs still locked on her as well. In the
 morning I woke to find her snuggled up close to me. I moved my hand
 down to push between her thighs and found the little lock attached to
 her rings again. I'd left it on the table by the bed last night, Sam
 must have woken during the night and put it on herself. When I asked
 her I found out that is what she had done. I opened the small lock,
 then used a bigger one to attach her wrist cuffs to the headboard and
 we made sweet love again, her arms stretched over her head, her
 chained foot straining to reach me.

 We showered, had breakfast, lazed around the house. Went out for
 lunch. In the afternoon I let her have a taste of the wood paddle on
 her bum while she lay across the bed kicking and writhing with each
 blow. She didn't enjoy it all that much, she told me. Stung too much.
 I cooked some steaks on the barbie and we dined outside. She slept
 Saturday night with her hands behind her back, locked in the cuffs.
 Woke up stiff and sore but said she liked the feeling of being
 helpless all night and we fucked once more. In the afternoon I drove
 her back home.

 Samantha asked me to drive around to the rear of her building. When we
 stopped she held out her hand. In it was the little lock and the two
 keys. Sam pulled my key ring from the ignition and attached the keys
 for the lock onto it, then gave them back to me. Then I watched her
 reach under her dress and, by feel, attach her two rings together with
 the little lock. I heard it click shut. Sam held her dress up while I
 put my hand there to feel.

 "See you next week master?" she asked.

 "You bet." I said. "I'll call you tonight."

 I watched the pretty girl with the long hair cross the parking lot and
 enter her building. When I got home I took off one of the little keys
 and put it in a safe place.

 Now, every time I see my key ring I lovingly finger that small key and
 can't help but think of the precious treasure that it opens.

 [ end part 2/2 ]

 If you enjoyed this story, or even if you didn't, I would be pleased
 to hear from you. Reader feedback is my only reward for my efforts, my
 encouragement to keep writing. You can reach me at  dino@canoemail.com
 Thanks:     Dino Dave.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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