The Mastery of Slavery - Part 3 'Passion rising'

The bedroom, into which he led her, was sumptuously furnished in jewelled colours of fire and passion.  It was darker than the lounge and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, as she stood on the threshold, anticipation rising in her.  

He beckoned her to the middle of the room where the huge bed stood: a colossal, inviting monument to passion.  Laid out, on the bed, were a leather collar and two leather wrist cuffs.  She blushed uncontrollably as she realised that these must have sat here when Wainwright brought in her grip.  She looked into Masters’ eyes, he smiled, aware of her discomfort, he could read what the thought was doing to her, someone knew of their intention and it was obvious that she was a willing participant.  Humiliation rose in her as Masters commanded her to kneel on the floor before him.  Unbuckling the leather collar, he placed it gently around her neck and, fastening the chromium buckle he let the weight of it rest against her neck.  She raised her hand to feel it but, before she could touch it, he placed a cuff around her wrist and pulled it towards him, roughly, buckling it up as he did so.  Meekly she presented her other wrist to him; her developing humility broadened his smile.  “You may touch now” he instructed her, “feel the strength and weight of your bonds, do not doubt their power slave” he spoke with confidence, he was well aware of the power such restraints had, both mental and physical, and he could sense their impact on her.  

Her fingers stroked the leather of the collar and paused to examine the buckle and ‘D’ rings attached to it. The collar was hard and unforgiving, the metal embellishments felt cold to her touch.  A gamut of emotions swept through her, she felt intoxicated with the feeling.  She studied the cuffs around her wrists and, eventually, she turned her gaze to Masters.  “Thank You, Master” she quivered, her articulation failing her.  He smiled as she knelt before him.  

Walking behind her and bade her put her hands behind her back.  As she did so he secured a length of chain to the ring at the back of the collar, the chain was ice cold as he let it dangle between her shoulder blades and down her spine.  Then he secured her wrist cuffs to the other end of the chain and walked back to face her.  “There,” he congratulated himself, “You are mine now!”  Her stomach began to tingle as if a thousand butterflies fought within her for release.  Masters turned from her and walked purposefully to the chest of drawers, upon which sat a large, black, leather case.  He unclipped the latches on the top, dropping down the front to reveal an array of erotic paraphernalia.  He selected a small, soft brush and a small bottle and made his way back to her.  He dripped some of the oil, from the bottle, on the tip of the brush and proceeded to gently brush it around her nipples.  Within seconds they were stiff, engorged and tingling from the sensation.  He stepped closer and whispered in her ear, so close she could feel his warm breath caressing her skin.  “Spread your legs, slave” he ordered and, as she did so, exposing the shaven glory of her sex, he smeared a little of the liquid onto her bud.  She took a sharp breath as he massaged her.  It felt to her as though some taut, invisible thread linked her clit and nipples and, as he touched one, the other sparked also.  He drew away from her sex, leaving his ‘potion’ to work its’ magic as he returned to his case.  This time he returned with a pair of nipple clamps joined together by a short length of chain.  He proceeded to clip one to each of her, now huge; nipples and she gasped as he tugged the chain slightly.  He spoke calmly to her, “Now, you see, you are powerless to defy me.  Confess your sins that I may decide your punishment.”  Slowly she began, “I…I…I have masturbated without your knowledge, consent or control, Master” she stammered.  He nodded thoughtfully.  “I have argued with you when you have found reason to admonish me,” she continued, “and I have questioned your ultimate power and control, Master.”  He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked her squarely in the face.  “Masturbate NOW, slave” he commanded, his voice calm yet powerful.  “I, I cannot”, she protested, “my hands are chained behind my back, Master.”  He paused to look deep into her eyes, the windows to her soul, he saw her hiding there and spoke “Quid Pro Quo, slave, Quid Pro Quo!”  His words struck to the heart of her, she felt dizzy with the sensation now.  She could feel her passion coursing through her body, like a volcano seeking egress, but he would allow her none.

Masters looked at her intently and he let his gaze fall upon her silky, shaved mound, to the small ‘J’ she had tatoo’d in the right hand corner, just on her pubic bone, he smiled, it had been one of his finest commands and she had obeyed without question.  A small blue J to remind her who she belonged to and anyone else whom she might allow to venture there.  He reached out and gently touched it, she willed him to explore her further, tipping her head slightly to one side and smiling briefly at his touch.

Laughing at her, he reached into his pocket and produced a long length of chain and, attaching it to the front ring of her collar he proceeded to pass it between her legs.  He could feel the heat and moisture of her cunt as he did so.  Then he replaced the shorter chain with this longer one, bidding her to lean backwards as he did so.  Having secured her wrists to the new chain he told her to kneel up straight.  As she straightened the chain tightened, grasping at her lips, her clit and her anus as it did so.  She winced and, wobbling slightly, she tried to close her knees.  “When I say you may close your legs, you may close your legs,” he berated her, “now spread them wide.  She was sure that if she did her nectar would gush from her in torrents.  Her clit had become entangled in a link of the chain and every time she so much as blinked she came closer to orgasm.  “Stand Up” he ordered.  She was unused to the confines of leather and metal and carefully raised one knee, placing her foot flat on the floor.  Unsteadily she rose to her feet, the chain seemed to bite harder now and she could feel the orgasm getting closer and closer.  Masters looked at her legs, a look of surprise on his face.  “Did I say you could close your legs?” he demanded.  She shuffled them apart and, as she did so, she felt her orgasm explode within her.  She closed her eyes as her body began to flush and quake, her knees bending as her hips thrust violently back and forth, each time rasping the unforgiving links of chain against her tender sex and anus.  She wanted to drop to the floor and close her legs, she wanted him to plunge deep inside her, instead she tried her best to stand and cum, powerless to make it desist.  As he watched her his eyes darted all over her body.  He watched her skin flush, the glisten of cum on her shaven sex, her mouth as she gasped for breath, her eyes as they closed, opened and then dilated; her hips as they gyrated violently.  The air was thick with the sweet, musky aroma of her elixir and he was entranced watching her.  He could see her progressing through the peaks and troughs of her orgasms.  No sooner had one subsided than another rose to replace it.  

She gritted her teeth, the muscles of her neck tight as her jaw firmed, she began to growl and, as the orgasm grew ever more intense her mouth widened until she was screaming.  Gasping, thrusting, surging and re-surging, tears now running down her face as sweat poured from her body.  Masters was impressed by her stamina, he reached forward and, unclipping the chain from the front of her collar, he let it drop to the floor.  With the cruel chain removed her orgasm began to subside and, breathing heavily she managed to regain a modicum of calm.   Masters looked sternly at her.  “Did I say you could cum?” he questioned.  “No, Master” she replied, shakily.  He smiled.

It had been a rule, he would not deny her her orgasm but she could not take it until he consented and she could not finish until he instructed her so.  He placed his hand between her legs and drew it slowly along her sex, then, smearing her sticky cum across her mouth her turned her a quarter turn and sat her on the edge of the bed.  “Now slave,” he said gravely, “You will accept your punishment”.  She looked at him, her pleading eyes meeting his.  “Not clit flicks, Master, Please”.  “Lay down,” he commanded, ignoring her begging as he unfastened her wrists and secured one arm to each side of the huge headboard and one leg, likewise, to the foot of the bed.  Her limbs were stretched wide in every direction as he stood between her legs.  She struggled wilfully against her bonds, he slapped her cunt with his outstretched hand, and she lay still for him.  He could see her clit as it protruded, swollen, from beyond the lips of her sex.  “Six” he said moderately, “six of Mine, Six of the best” he smiled and, leaning over her, he proceeded to flick her bud with the middle finger of his right hand.      “One,” she counted, juddering, “Two…Three… Four, Please Master” she begged.  Oblivious to her pleading he continued “and three more for insolence” he added. “Five,” she continued, “Six…Seven…Eight…Nine, Thank You, Master”

She was extremely sensitive now, completely engorged and glistering with cum as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.  “Good” he said, smiling.  Her cunt was truly alive now, her lips swollen and pink, her clit engorged.  He watched as the thick sticky cum began to ooze from her, He wanted to bury his face in her, to lick her, suck her, to feel her orgasm rising under his tongue, he wanted to lose control inside her, but he couldn’t, this was her trial, not his. His smile spread wide across his face, then he leaned over her and, pausing to inhale the scent of her, he licked her.  Just once.  Purposefully.  She lay there watching him, feeling the silk of him on her, willing him to continue “Oh God, YES” she sighed, urging him on.  “Do you want me to do that again?” he asked, She looked at him, was he mocking her or did he really mean it?  End this charade of Master & servant and lose themselves in their passion?  She took the chance, “Yes”, she replied, “Again and again and again”.
“Why?”, he asked, a simple enough question she answered just as simply “Because I do, I want to feel you inside me, I want us to come together and share the power of it” Her tone was urgent now, she was almost pleading with him; He ticked an imaginary scorecard in his head and thought “Round one to me I believe”.  He paused, feigning thought and finally, walking out of the room, he looked back over his shoulder and said, “I don’t think so”.