Double or Nothing; Part 2
Despite the sight of the two naked women kneeling submissively before
me--or perhaps because of it--my mind wandered again. Renae was playing
a game; one which had taken on a new level tonight, but it was still a
game. It was a thrill, something to add to her list of "kinky things
I've done." Sasha, however, was different.
I had met Sasha, oddly enough, at the local youth center. I volunteered
my time to work with the high school students, while Sasha helped out
with the younger kids. Our paths never crossed much, so I had never had
a chance to really talk with her. I would watch her when I could,
however. Despite her tendency to wear loose clothing which hid her
figure, I could tell from the glimpses I did get, that she had what
appeared to be a very nice body. Her face was beautiful; sparkling eyes
that shown with intelligence and passion, and a smile that was bright
and contagious.
She was the one the kids went to when they were hurt, or sad, or when
they needed someone to talk to. Her smile and warm hugs were
comforting. It was as if she were absorbing all the pain and troubles
of the kids into herself. Once she'd taken it in, however, it seemed to
stay there. Behind the smile and sparkling eyes was a depth of pain and
loneliness that was well hidden, yet still apparent to those who took
the time to look.
It was almost a year before I had a chance to talk with her--at a show
in my own gallery. I had posted a notice about the show opening in the
mentors' lounge at the center--with a warning that some of the pieces
would be graphic. I was surprised when I saw Sasha wandering the floor
looking at the various pieces on display. She was by herself, smiling
warmly at the other guests and mumbling quiet greetings, but staying
away from conversations.
The show, titled "Consent is Mandatory," was a benefit for the local
domestic abuse shelter and was sponsored by the local BDSM club. The
combination actually made a lot of sense, but most of the other
galleries refused to house it.
Sasha had stopped in front of a large canvas by Casey Jordn titled
"Beauty".
The canvas stood 12 feet tall by 6 wide; a massive and overpowering
piece. The subject of the painting was an incredibly-detailed gothic
cathedral, the cool, imposing stone standing in solid majesty. Shafts
of warm light pierced cleanly through the clerestory windows and
stained glass to land in delicate and intricate patterns on the
polished marble of the floor. The graceful columns and sweeping
arches embraced the light with majesty and strength. At the center of
the painting, life-sized, was a woman. She knelt in the center of the
aisle, bathed in the comforting light of the sun. In her arms she
cradled an infant, wrapped in white silk. It contrasted with the
black leather body-suit which hugged the curves of the young woman.
The colors of the stained glass reflected off the restraining rings at
her wrists, ankles and neck. A worn leather leash trailed in a gentle
curve from the silver collar at her neck to the black marble floor.
And, if one looked closely, swirls of dust in the beams of sunlight
formed graceful, sweeping wings.
"Quite the piece, isn't it?" I watched Sasha jump as I spoke from
behind her.
"oh! ... Umm... It's just so... That is... I mean... She just looks
so... Peaceful. So happy."
"Of course. She has security, protection, freedom, intimacy and a
master who loves her. All she's had to do is submit to that love."
"Love? Isn't it.. I mean, I thought it was about ... um sex. Tying
women up and whips and kinky things like that."
"Well, it depends. There's a very broad spectrum. There are those who
just like to play with the toys; they get a thrill from dressing up,
waving a whip around and doing something that feels all naughty.
There's nothing wrong with that, mind you; if it makes the people
involved happy and no one gets hurt, then go for it. But that's sort of
the Halloween mentality--dress up, have fun, then go back to real life.
Then there are those who live the life 24 hours a day--most of that
without any of the accoutrements. It's all about doing what makes you
happy." (expand this)
"You sound like you know a bit about this. Are you... into that?"
"Yes an no. I've played at it a few times, but I haven't found a woman
I could trust enough to let her be my slave." I had been guiding her
towards one of the empty couches at the back of the room, grabbing a
glass of wine along the way for myself and a new orange juice for her.
We sat and continued the conversation. I began to lead the conversation
along certain paths in order to follow a few hunches.
"People tend to wonder why some one would want to be a submissive.
They're sure they know why someone would be a dom--and I suspect that
they're wrong more than they're right. There are as many reasons as
there doms."
I paused for a bit while she sipped at her juice; a host of thoughts
running behind her eyes.
"What.." she paused and looked briefly into my eyes before her eyes
darted down again. "...What is your reason--if you were to do that; if
you were to be a..."
"A master?" I offered. She nodded shyly. "That's a long discussion all
its own. The short answer, I guess, is to teach and (raise up) the
slave--to show her what she has to offer, and to accept that as my
own."
"I don't know that I could ever do that; be a ... "
"A slave."
And now here she was, kneeling at my feet, stripped to the waist,
gagged, restraining cuffs on her wrists, and smiling with honest
pleasure.
It had taken almost a year from that first conversation until we first
had sex of any sort--though her training had started in the middle of
that time and progressed gradually to the point where she was willing
to accept her submissive nature. That first night of sex had been over
14 months ago. In that time, she had gained confidence, strength, and
an acceptance of herself. Yet she had lost none of the qualities that
had first attracted me to her. While still quiet and somewhat shy in
public, in private she was able to fall fully into the role of a slave
and let herself go.
The sensation of soft hair trailing along my thighs brought me back to
the present.
Renae had knelt upright and leaned forward to take me into her mouth.
Her shoulders rested on my thighs, her long auburn hair falling in
tight curls across my thighs and abdomen. Casually, as I felt her lips
first wrap around me, I took a sip of my scotch, switching the glass
from my left to the matching table on the right. My left hand would be
busy. Gently and carefully, I gathered up her hair, neatly pulling up
each stray lock into my hands. With a quick twist of my left wrist, I
wound the long mane around my hand, using it to both control and guide
her movements, and keeping stray strands from interfering in her task.
With my right hand, I explored and caressed what parts of her body I
could easily reach.
Behind her, Sasha was gently massaging lotion into Renae's tender
flesh. In reality, the lotion did little, but the contact was soothing
and arousing--which is what mattered.
With the lotion soaked in, Sasha picked up the bottle of oil, and let
it dribble at the base of the bound woman's spine and back down between
the cheeks of Renae's reddened ass.
I smiled as I felt Renae twitch as the cold oil hit her hot skin. Her
back arched up, and her arms pulled against the ropes binding them. Her
mouth tightened ever so slightly, then opened again as I tightened my
grip un her hair.
I could feel Renae's reactions through her mouth as Sasha's small
skilled hands worked the oil up and down the crevice before her; as her
slender Finger first teased, then probed into, the tight knot of
Renae's anus. The oil was a special blend of mm own; fragrant tropical
oils with a hint of menthol and camphor to get the blood flowing and
loosen the muscles. Used on more sensitive areas, its effects are
amplified.
Sasha's fingers worked deeper into Renae, relaxing her, preparing her.
The sight of my gagged slave working her fingers deep into a woman she
had just met was far more arousing than the feeling of the warm,
demanding mouth sucking on my cock. My love for mm slave is the most
arousing thing I know--except, perhaps, for her love for me. So many
people fail to understand: it's not the things mg slave does that are
so arousing, it's the fact that she's doing them for me.
"Miss Sasha." she looked up at the sound of my voice, but didn't stop
the movement of her hands. "Is she ready for me?" Unable to speak
through the gag, she nodded clearly, then withdrew her hand from
Renae's ass and held up three fingers laying tightly together and
glistening with the faintly pink oil.
"Good." Without regard to what she was doing, I gripped Renae's hair
tightly and pulled her face away from my crotch. "Time for the next
step."
I stood up, pulling Renae up with me. "Sasha, remove her pants." As
much as I enjoyed the sight of her legs bound by the faded denim pulled
down around her thighs, it needed to go. For what I had in mind next, I
wanted her nude--except for a few accoutrements. Once the pants had
been removed, I ordered her to be gagged again, and a three-foot leash
attached to her collar. My orders were rapid and precise; I wanted
action and results, not sensuality.
Renae stood, naked gagged, and leashed, arms bound behind her in a
perfect presentation pose. I quickly turned my attention to Sasha.
"Strip." She immediately removed her own jeans, and the lace tangas
she wore underneath. Sasha has an affinity for underwear; something
I've allowed and encouraged. It's always interesting to see what will
be revealed when her pants come off. At that point, however, I was
more interested in getting her where I wanted her... and where she
wanted to be, I imagined.
While Renae stood watching, I walked Sasha over to an antique wooden
chair that sat near my bed. The heavy maple chair had hintings of
early art-deco style to the legs, and a solid back sitting on thick
square posts. I sat Sasha down on the cold wood, and strapped her
ankles to the front legs with the leather restraints I had laid out
earlier. I clipped the rings at her wrists together, laying her hands
in her lap, and then picked up another restraint from the floor. This
had two leather cuffs and a cinch strap between them. I strapped one
cuff around each arm above the elbow, and ran the strap around the back
of the chair. I pulled it tight enough to hold her in position.
Another restraint, similar to the last, went around her legs, just
below her knees, pulling her legs apart and holding them there. She
could not move--except for her head, and her hands. I smiled.
"Now. You are required to watch everything I do to Miss Renae." She
nodded and wiggled her fingers just a bit. "...And you are may not
masturbate. You may not do so much as caress your lips, or stroke the
insides of your thighs. Nothing. If I catch you trying to masturbate,
you will get 30 lashes a day for the next 7 days... and I will not fuck
you for the next 2 months. I will not let you suck me, I will not let
you *kiss* me. I will not touch you, talk to you, or look at you.
Other than your 30 lashes, you will not exist to me." I paused to look
at the shock in her eyes; the fear. "Do you understand?" Her head
moved only a small bit. "Do you understand?" I put more force into my
voice. Her head nodded more pronounced, though without any more
confidence. "Good." I reached out and stroked her hair gently.
"Behave yourself, and I'll reward you..." I glanced towards the bed
"... with Miss Renae." I bent down and gave her a kiss on the
forehead, above the strap of her gag, and then turned away, treating
her as if she wasn't there.
My attention now turned to Miss Renae. To the other side of the bed
from where I had sat Miss Sasha, was a short, carpet-covered wall. It
stood between two posts, sitting just under three feet high, and 18
inches thick. It was situated parallel to the foot of my bed, and at
the bottom, on the side towards the bed was a carpeted bar three inches
in diameter, and eight inches off the floor. The excuse for the wall
was that it was an area for the cats to perch and play. The reason for
the wall was about to be demonstrated. I walked Renae over to the
wall, placing her ankles against the bar at the floor. Kicking her
feet out to about shoulder width, I let her stand there while I walked
back towards my bed and pulled open a small wooden box. From inside I
withdrew 2 leather cuffs similar to those which held Sasha's arms, but
minus the strap, and two lengths of soft, white, nylon rope. I put the
cuffs on Renae's ankles, with the thick D-rings to the outside.
Pulling out the rope, I whipped a quick clove hitch around the bar, and
a simple granny-knot through the rings, holding them tightly to the
bar.
I walked slowly around to the other side of the wall. With slow and
deliberate movements, I reached out and laid my hand under the cord of
the leash which hung from her neck. I stroked slowly down the length
of the leather strap, pulling it out to my side of the wall. When my
hand reached the loop at the end, I gently pulled towards me; hand over
hand, with slow even pulls, I drew it towards me, and pulled Renae
forward over the wall. With her ankles bound to the bar and her arms
behind her, she had no choice but to bend forward. When, at last, I
held the other end of the leash, she was bent completely over. Bending
at the knees and keeping my eyes on hers, I reached down and slipped
the loop at the end of the leash into a clip fastened to the floor.
Now, her legs secured, her neck secured, he hands bound behind her, she
could go nowhere. Standing back up, I looked across her back into
Sasha's eyes. She would have a perfect view of everything I was doing.
Slowly, I again walked behind my bound toy. As I stood between her
bound legs, I laid my hands on the cheeks of her as and felt their
shape, their tone. I moved them down her thighs, and back up to her
waist. My right hand slipped down between her legs and stroked her
lips with firm fingers. I pushed a long middle finger into her cunt,
then slipped the thumb into her slick ass. The fingers to either side
of my middle finger massaged her smooth, shaved lips, while my thumb
and finger, deep inside her, rubbed against each other through the
thing membrane. I reached up with my left hand to grab a handful of
hair and pull back on her head, straining it against the leash that
held her. To my surprise, it took only a minute for her to come. Her
asshole clenched over and over around my thumb, milking at it.
While she still twitched with the fading sensations of her orgasm, I
pulled my hand swiftly from her and grabbed a hold of her waist;
releasing her hair from my left hand, and bringing it down to join my
right. I stepped forward the half step it took to lay my still-hard
cock into the crack of her ass. Without trying to enter her yet, I
slid up and down, rubbing the underside of my cock against the
sensitive muscle of her anus. Each stroke kept her on the edge, not
letting her come down from her orgasm. At last, I had enough teasing.
I pulled my hips back, shifted my weight, and pressed the head of my
cock into her ass. With the oil, Sasha's fingers, and the teasing, she
was relaxed and slick, allowing me to slide in with one slow, smooth
stroke. There was resistance, perhaps a little bit of pain for her--
though I doubted it.
After coming in Sasha's mouth earlier, I knew that I would last longer
this time. I started slow, gripping her tightly at her waist and
pulling back, then sliding forward again and again. I just enjoyed the
feel of the tight muscles wrapped around me, gripping every little
contour. There's something about the feel of a tight ass that is like
no other feeling. For several minutes, I stroked slowly into her,
slowly, deliberately; enjoying the sensuality, the sensation.
I leaned forward, placing my hands on the wall to either side of her,
letting my long hair fall down around my shoulders and across her back.
I continued to thrust into her ass, a little harder now, the angle
slightly different. Bending my head down, I ran my tongue up her
spine, starting between her shoulder blades and ending at the back of
her neck. I listened to her moan through the gag and smiled. Again
I ran my tongue up her spine. Again she moaned, her ass gripping
tighter around me. Once more I ran my tongue up her spine, slower
this time, and as her moan built, I sank my teeth into the back of her
neck, causing her to gasp and scream through the gag. I could only
imagine the look on her face.
Releasing my lock on her neck, I moved my mouth around, kissing and
licking where ever I could reach, feeling her squirm against me.
Always she has insisted that she doesn't like a man in her ass, but
whenever I have forced her, she as grown to enjoy it. Tonight is no
exception. As my mouth roams around her neck, back and shoulders, she
begins to thrust her ass back at me, arching her back to draw me deeper
inside of her. I waited for her passion to build more, then again sink
my teeth into her pale skin, this time on her shoulder. There will be
marks in the morning. I continue the slow torture, licking and kissing
her soft skin for a minute or two, then sinking my teeth in as I thrust
forward. I let my full weight rest on her bound arms, and reach around
to her chest, cantilevered out beyond the wall. Her chest was heaving,
trying to pant, but unable to do so around the gag. My weight added to
the strain in her breathing, the sense of being surrounded, encased.
My arms around her increased this feeling, both constraining and
protective. It never ceases to amaze and amuse me how women love to
feel the crush of a man's weight upon them in the heat of passion.
With soft firm strokes, I ran my hands up and down her chest and sides.
I wrapped my right hand around her throat, and quickened my pace for a
short while. I let my hands move down to her small, pert breasts. Her
nipples were standing out harder than I had ever seen them. The tiny
muscles around them almost twitched. The hard pearls were rough and
hot between my fingers as I pinched them and pulled downward, toward
the floor and the ring that bound her leash. I twisted them in time to
my thrusting and the attentions of my mouth. I began working
contrasts; softly caressing her left breast while fiercely gripping her
right with sharp, short nails. The deluge of sensations was becoming
too much for her.
"Let it go." I whispered in her ear. "Let it wash over you." I could
feel her hanging on the edge, not able or willing to let herself come.
To come with me in her ass would be an admission of submission that
could never be taken back. This would be the ultimate prize--her
ultimate loss--to come doing the thing she has claimed to hate so
adamantly.
I stopped with the teasing, wrapped my arms to grasp her shoulders from
underneath, and forced her back onto me harder and faster. "you will
come for me while I fuck your tight little ass, Miss Renae." She shook
her head forcefully, trying to deny it, trying to shake my voice from
her ear. "You've lied to yourself all these years. You love it. You
love being sodomized." Her head moved slower, muffled sounds coming
from her filled mouth "no... no... no... no... no..."
"yes...." I whispered. "you love it. You love to have your ass
split. You will come while I sodomize your sweet, tight ass. You will
let go and let it take you. I command you... You will come...." I
swiftly pulled my hands back down to her now-tender breasts and twisted
her nipples fiercely and pinched with all my strength as I thrust
deeper and harder than I had yet, forcing her hips up and crushing her
clit into the edge of the carpeted wall... "NOW!" and sank my teeth
again into her neck.
AT that instant, it snapped in her. She couldn't resist any longer,
and the waves of orgasm shattered through her body, causing her to
spasm wildly, without rhythm or direction, pulling against the leash
that bound her to the floor until I feared it would break loose. A
guttural scream reached out from behind the gag to echo through the
room. As her orgasm finally peaked, I couldn't hold out any longer, I
stood back up, grasped tightly to her hips and thrust deep and hard and
held her there, letting my own orgasm wash over me. Her slick ass
grasped randomly down on me as I let go with wave after wave of come
flow deep into her. When the intensity of the sensations finally
became painful, I pulled out and staggered to fall back on my bed,
sweaty and exhausted.
Renae continued to twitch occasionally, the cheeks of her ass clenching
and relaxing pleasantly. I could her a soft sobbing coming through the
heavy breaths, but couldn't tell if it was from relief or something
else. I was about to get up to check on her when a powerful shudder
ran down her body, followed by a long, pleasant sigh. I smiled and
relaxed again.
I looked over at Sasha. Her teeth were clamped into the hard rubber
ball of her gag, and her fists clenched. I could see a wet sheen on
her smooth cunt, and on the seat of the chair. Her eyes were staring
at me with a look of passion and begging. I just smiled back at her
and closed my eyes.
They could wait for a bit while I rested. I wanted to be awake for the
next part.