A Whisper Of Silence

They created quite a stir when they walked into the club. Eileen enjoyed the looks. Her companion, Silence, was easily seven feet tall and well muscled. He wore leather pants and vest. No shirt. His hard body was very visible. As were the scars. His handsome face was expressionless, his gray eyes flat and cold. He wore his long, black hair tied back. In contrast, Eileen wore clingy silk. Her nipples were evident under the almost sheer fabric. And although she was older, many of the men, both dominant and submissive, watched her. She entered the room as if she owned it.

They moved to a table and settled in. They confused everyone. Which was Dom and which was sub? A women in red vinyl approached. She looked up at him. He ignored her. She looked at Eileen. "May I...play...with him for awhile?"

Eileen just smiled. "Sorry," she replied, "we have an exclusive contract."

"Pity," the woman in red answered as she walked away.

Silence relaxed slightly. His fingers moved slightly.

Eileen smiled up at him. "Yes," she said softly, "I did lie."

His gray eyes softened as nodded slightly, reassured. She had promised that they were only here to observe. She had promised not to share him or make him participate. Their relationship was still new. He wanted to trust her but it was so hard. He had been betrayed so often.

They sat quietly to watch the evening's "entertainment". He tensed up again. Her soft touch on his arm kept him still. He knew what was coming even if she did not. He had been very well trained before she acquired him. And he had the scars to prove it. His body had healed but he still had raw wounds. Inside. He had not spoken or made a sound for years. She had named him Silence. She gently caressed his tense arm. He tried to relax. She had promised him they would only watch and that she would not ask him to participate. His fingers asked forgiveness. She smiled at him again.

A spotlight lit up the stage. The...show...was about to begin. She sat impassively, constantly caressing his tense arm as they watched the displays of submission. Beatings. Gang bangs. Rape. Every time a male submissive was on the stage, his tension increased. The 'show' finally ended but the sex was still going on as the patrons began sharing their subs.

She stood up. He immediately stood with her. The club patrons were too busy to notice them leaving. They went home. Inside the house, she tugged him down to kiss him gently.

"I'm proud of you," she said, "and I needed to see, to understand."

He bowed his head. He touched his clothes.

"Yes," she said, "please."

He stripped and put his things away. When he returned to her, she was also nude. His reaction was immediate and obvious. His penis swelled to monstrous proportions. She caressed his massive erection. The soft touch made him burn.

"Come to me," she whispered.

His hands and lips were immediately on her body. She quivered, letting him arouse her. When he finally mounted her, she took him completely in a single hard thrust. Her orgasm was sudden and intense. He thrust into her for hours, giving her what she asked of him, pleasuring her.

"Now! Please!" she moaned and his orgasm exploded, merging with hers, their bodies thrashing and convulsing. He slowly withdrew from her. She signed softly in sated pleasure.

"Stay with me," she breathed as she fell asleep.

He lay awake for a while, thinking. This was a trial of sorts for both of them. He knew that for all of his physical strength, he needed a woman to command his pleasure. Unfortunately, his previous mistresses had been sadists. The first had nearly killed him and she made sure each one he was passed to was as cruel as she was. His stamina had been painfully learned. This woman was different. She did not punish him for being less than perfect, for being human. He studied her sleeping body. Soft. Full figured. His penis began to swell again. He knew he would be massively erect in the morning. With a sigh, he settled into sleep.

Sometime during the night his dream returned. He lay with his hands over his head, held in the invisible shackles of his nightmare, as he twitched and jerked. A particularly violent motion woke her. She saw he was dreaming again. Sadness touched her eyes. He was so beautiful. His massive penis gave her such pleasure. She wished she could ease his pain. She lay back, thinking, as the dream finally released him.

When he awoke in the morning, he was alone. He immediately got up to look for her. She was in the kitchen, sipping coffee. Her eyes were sad when she looked at him. He tensed. She was displeased about something. She set her cup down and slowly stood up.

"You woke me last night," she said softly.

He knelt, head bowed, his fingers asking forgiveness. She placed her hand gently on his head.

"I have not punished you," she said sadly, "but this time, I must. Come." At her gesture, he stood and followed her.

She led him to the basement. The shackles and chains made him tense. She took his unresisting hands and buckled the padded restraints around his wrists. Then she snapped them together and hooked them to a chain. His arms were pulled over his head just high enough to hold him upright. He could not stop a single shiver of apprehension. Severe pain usually followed his being put in this position.

"You will close your eyes and not open them until I tell you," she said. She watched as he obeyed. He could not see the compassion in her eyes.

"You have been punished before," she said.

He nodded then lowered his head in submission waiting for the lash to fall. He felt her fingers begin to trace his scars. Soft, feathery touches that aroused him, made him burn. What was she doing? When was she going to punish him? Her fingers moved over his body, along each scar. He trembled, her soft touch reminding him of the pain that caused the marks on his body. He did not realize that this was his punishment. Memory. Her fingers found and traced every one of his scars, each one reminding him of pain often inflicted for no other reason than his mistress wished it. He began to shudder and twitch as the soft touches continued.

He jerked in shock when her lips began kissing him, going over the marks on his body. What was she doing to him? Instead of pain, he was receiving gentleness. Her lips and tongue traced every one of his scars. The more she touched him, the more confused he became. She was replacing the fire of pain in his memory with a fire of another kind. His penis had swelled to massive tightness, hard and throbbing. Then she began caressing his massive erection.

"Your punishment is almost finished," she whispered.

Oh god! This was punishment? What was she going to do to him? His back arched, his neck corded as he tensed, his hands gripped tight on the chains holding him. He was aroused to the point of insanity. He wanted to be loose. He wanted her body under him, taking him deep into her.

"When I touch your stomach, you may open your eyes and you will climax for me."

Then her mouth went around his penis as she began licking and sucking on him. She took her time, teasing and tasting him, savoring his heat and hardness. Her tongue teased the hot glans. His breathing was harsh and ragged, his body trembling with each touch. She caressed his hard stomach. His eyes opened to see her kneeling at his feet, his penis buried in her hot, wet mouth. And his orgasm exploded. He jerked as pulse after pulse of his hot ejaculate surged into her greedy mouth. She swallowed quickly, taking all of it, then slowly licked him clean. She stood and released him. He went immediately to his knees, then prostrate to her. He had not willingly done that for anyone, yet her gentle domination was claiming his very soul.

She caressed his lowered head. "Come," she said softly. He followed her back to the bedroom. She went to her jewel box and took out a velvet pouch.

"It is time for us to decide," she said. "You please me greatly. I would have you wear my collar, to remain with me, submit to me and give me the pleasure of your body and your strength."

He again prostrated before her, kissing her feet. Then he sat back on his heels, shoulders back, arms behind his back. He held his head high, presenting his throat for her collar. Smiling, she fastened a gleaming silver chain around his neck. It nestled perfectly against this throat. His gray eyes gleamed.

"Thank you, mistress," he whispered.