Anyone looking for simple raucous graphic sex should probably look elsewhere, While this will eventually get there, it might take a while to develop.
Also, as you will see, this story could take any number of turns and I'm trying a little experiment. After reading this chapter, readers get to choose the direction of the next chapter. You'll notice a question at the end of and readers can vote by leaving a comment or by private message with their selection. I'll write chapter 2 based upon what the majority of readers want.
Enjoy.
*****
It all started like almost any other session, first the cleansing, then a shower, but this time the Master decided to go straight to the spanking.
Slave was thrilled. This was very rare indeed. She almost never got a spanking at the beginning of a session, always at the end, and even then only if there was time. This also meant, or so she thought, that she'd be getting fucked while still enjoying the warm "after-burn" of a good ass tanning. At this point, she still had no idea that this would not be like any other session.
The Master started with a blindfold, then a gag. As she accepted the object into her mouth, she realized that this was not the ball gag they had often used in the past, this was something new. It was more like a soother you might give to a child, only adult size, and shaped like a penis. It was much more comfortable than the ball gag had been. The ball had often left her jaw extremely sore especially if he had left her gaged for any significant period of time. She could already tell that this new toy would not have that same affect. In the back of her mind, still in her subconscious, a little warning flag went up. Did it mean that she could expect that this would be in for an extended period of time? What did make it through to her conscious mind though, was the fact that Master had been shopping. In addition, given the already considerable size and extensiveness of their existing "tickle-trunk," Slave wondered what other possible gadgets there were that he thought they absolutely needed.
There was another little thought that niggled at her consciousness; this new toy might mean that Master was up to something. If she suspected correctly, he had planned something; something secret; something no doubt devious. And she knew him enough to know that nothing was quite so dangerous (nor so exciting) as Master with a secret plan.
Now naked and blind, Slave was led to the lounger - the one he had started using as their spanking bench. She remembered it fondly and remembered she had had some of her best spankings while tied to that lounger. "The Master was going all out today," she thought to herself. He was spending more time than usual tying both her arms and legs. She liked it when he did that.
He didn't always use the ropes. Sometimes she was simply ordered to kneel to receive her wiping with no bindings at all. Other times she was tied, but often if tested or if she struggled hard, the ropes would work themselves loose. In the past his rope work was not the best and while Slave hadn't realized this yet, he had made a conscious effort to study up on that aspect of their play.
While she was being secured, Master kept up a constant dialogue. His voice was soft and gentle but his subject matter was decidedly ungentle. He kept alluding to an evening without a safe-word, something he had often threatened in the past but never implemented. He also repeatedly reminded her of the time she had causally mentioned that someday... someday she'd like to have her limits severely tested... to be pushed past her breaking point, past the point of tears... past anything they had ever done before. She wanted to go "way out there" even if it never happened again after that. "Just once..." she had sighed.
As Master talked, Slave did remember having once said that. It was, at the time, little more than idle chatter, and she didn't even know if Master had heard her. Apparently, she reminded herself again, he hears and remembers everything.
The Master was good at that. Being dyslexic, he had relied on his memory to get himself through school. He never studied, did absolutely no homework in high-school, and he certainly never did any of the assigned reading - he simply listened to his teacher's lectures and wrote their exams. If he had a question about anything the teacher had said, he asked it. He rarely had the best marks in school, but then he never really worked as hard as the other kids did either. It was a fair trade-off in his mind.
It had also left him with a skill that few other people had. That skill was simply his memory. When you never take notes, you never get into the habit of writing things down. However, you often still need access to those little pieces of information later. Over time, he had developed the ability to "file away" these stray pieces of information and bring them out again, sometimes at the oddest times. He couldn't ever remember losing a game of Trivial Pursuits and during arguments or good natured debates, he could often use a these little factoids, and the person's own words against them. He could get his opponent so twisted around that they often forgot what point they were trying to make. At times, it was very frustrating.
It also meant that he was very good at playing little mind games. He was one of the few people she knew that not only understood that truly great sex happens more between the ears than between the legs, but who actually worked hard to put that into practice. He got the fact that great sex was a game, a mystery, an exploration. No kiss was ever quite as good as your first kiss; it's the one that all subsequent kisses are measured against. Many milestones in a person's life were like that; your first boyfriend / girlfriend, your first car, your first airplane ride, your first apartment away from your parent's domain, the birth of your first child. He had always said that life would be so amazing if we could find a way to constantly keep it new.
As far as sex went, in Master's mind, nothing was worse than an old married couple who had fallen into a routine in the bedroom; who always worked from the same script. To him, it was like watching the same murder mystery over and over and over. You already knew who the killer was, and how it turns out in the end. As good of a movie as it was, watching "The Sixth Sense" was never the same once you knew Bruce Willis is already dead. He could never understand why people continued to hit "play" without ever changing the movie.
He once hypothesized that it was because people get lazy and they learn to live with "good enough." It was very similar to that of people's culinary practices. At the end of a long hard day of work, you could pop a frozen pizza into the oven, or you could invest a goodly amount of time and energy into preparing a truly amazing meal. It was his belief that far to many people opt for the frozen pizza. He had always vowed never to become complacent. If one checked, a quick inspection of the Master's kitchen would not yield any frozen pizza anywhere. It wasn't even allowed in the house.
Master was the same with all his passions, and the bedroom was no exception.
"Eating and fucking and creating. What else could we possibly ask for?" she had heard him say many times. "And when we can put these together... it truly is magical."
"That was the Master all right," she laughed to herself, "Truly an artist."
Giving his completed rope-work one final check, Master stood back and admired the results. Slave was completely incapacitated and no amount of struggling would change that. She was also more effectively silenced then she had ever been before. This new gag completely covered and sealed her mouth, not even air could get in. As he strode around the room, he made a big show to his blind audience about how he could do whatever he wanted now and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. It was when he pointed out the fact that even if she had a safe word for today, she'd never be able to use it with that phallus in her mouth that subconsciously, the second red flag went up.
He knew she could still hear, and that her hearing was starting to become very attuned to everything that was happening in the room. He did not even try to be silent; on the contrary, he knew that today, the "theatre of the mind" would be his biggest asset. He knew that it was a person's imagination that always made the book better than the movie; the unseen monsters under the bed always scarier than the man in the lizard suit on the television; and today that's exactly what he was counting on. Today, it was his plan to do anything he could do to amplify her imagination.
He started by carrying on a verbal discussion with himself as he perused the spanking devises available to him. "Hmmmm... let's see..." he said aloud, "do I feel like a whip, a paddle, or a switch? You know I really do like a good switch. They're just so... eloquent," he said has he picked one up and sliced the air with it, "and they really do leave the very best welts."
Slave hated the switch. Her heart rate jumped at the sound of it whipping through the air. Master knew she hated it, and it was for exactly this reason that he threatened its use first. He whipped the air a few more times right close to Slave's ears, just to taunt her. "I don't know," the Master continued, "Maybe I'll save that for later... for the grand finale. You know... 'desert' so to speak."
Master picked up the Cat-O-Nine and slowly dragged it across Slave's naked body. Startled, Slave jumped at its first touch.
"The 'Cat' is okay I guess, but one has to work so hard to get it to leave any lasting marks."
The braided leather cords felt soft and inviting across her back but she knew it was an illusion. When applied as she knew it would be, the feeling was altogether different.
Master set the 'Cat' down on her body with the handle propped in the cleavage of her butt cheeks and the strands draped across her back. "How about a strap? The strap does leave the best bruises though," he continued, "Nothing beats it for long term affects does it?
Master seemed very undecided. "I don't know... decisions, decisions."
Slave would not have said a word even if she could have. It was his choice and she'd deal with whatever he chose to do.
"Y'know... I could do something I've never tried before," he said with a start. "I could do... well... nothing!"
Slave listened quietly.
"Nothing says I must spank you at all, does it? I mean... you haven't even been a bad girl yet."
