Eve's Introduction to Bdsm

After the initial serve of wine, Eve knelt alongside the open fire while Master Michael and Irene talked. Then he asked her to help Irene with the dishes and to prepare a light dinner. It was pre-prepared quiche and hardly needed any preparation apart from heating it. Irene told her some friends were coming to dinner at 6:30. When she had finished helping in the kitchen, Eve returned to the lounge room and knelt on the cushion again. Master Michael told her she could relax. So she rose and lay on the sofa and gazed up at the illuminated image of the girl in the flowery hat framed in gold. Soon she fell asleep in the warmth that radiated from the open fire.

She jumped when Irene woke her and told her to have a shower and prepare for the guest's arrival. She showered quickly; washing the wine stains from between her legs, and combed her hair. She felt awake and clean again now. However she felt a little apprehensive about meeting new people while still naked. But if that is how Master and Mistress wanted to present her then that is how she would be.

She went back to the lounge and knelt on the cushion and waited. Shortly the doorbell sounded and she could hear Master Michael and Mistress Irene greeting their guests. She turned around. Still in the kneeling position, but now with her back to the fire and facing the doorway, her knees lightly pressed together. She imagined herself elegant and statuesque. The door opened and Master and Mistress led their guests into the room.

"Stephen and Stephanie, this is my new slave, Eve. She joined us for the first time last night." Master Michael proudly told them.

"Greetings Master, greetings Mistress, this one is pleased to meet You both." Eve said as she bowed her head in respect.

"Hello Eve." They both replied as their eyes roamed over her naked body.

"Eve please go to the kitchen and bring in the quiche and offer it to our guests" Master ordered.

Eve rose and went to the kitchen. When she returned with the hot quiche, Master and Irene had already offered drinks to their guests and they all stood around talking. Eve went from person to person offering them quiche and a small plate and fork with which to eat it.

It gave her a chance to study these new people, both of whom gave her long lingering looks. She became self conscious about her nakedness and held the plates low so as to cover her newly shaved part and the quiche at chest level trying to cover her breasts.

Stephen was tall and thin. He was older than Master Michael. He was probably in his mid fifties she thought. His face was gaunt, the skin stretched tightly over his high cheekbones. As he took a piece of quiche she noticed his long thin fingers and neatly manicured nails. He was dressed in an open necked shirt with a cravat and wore a dark sports jacket. Eve thought he looked very distinguished.

Stephanie was a very striking woman She was dressed in a midnight blue dress with a short, full skirt ending at mid thigh. The bodice hugged her upper body and was cut low at the back and front, revealing an ample cleavage. Her nipples were very prominent but Eve was not sure whether she was wearing a bra or not. If so, there were no visible signs of straps or the cups. She had blonde hair, which was about the same length as her own, and a lovely golden tan. Her eyes were a lovely sparkling green. eve guessed she was in her early thirties. Eve recognized her perfume, it was Opium, which she sometimes use herself.

Having served everyone, Eve returned to her place beside the fire and knelt. She was only half listening to the conversation and was a little surprised that neither Stephen nor Stephanie seemed perturbed by her presence nor her nakedness.

As Irene collected the plates, Master Michael ordered eve to come to Him. She rose, padded across the room and knelt before him with her back straight, head held high, eyes lowered and her hands resting palm upwards on her widely spread thighs.

"I see she has commenced her training." Stephen remarked as she knelt before her Master.

"Yes, I am yet to find her full potential." Master Michael said as he winked and smiled at his friend.

Michael moved behind her.

"Close your eyes." He told her.

She obeyed.

Her world darkened as he slipped a blindfold over her eyes and fixed it securely behind her head. She did not move.

"Pull back your hair, Eve." Master ordered.

She pulled back her brunette hair and as she did so she felt another set of hands slip a "scrunchy" over it so that her hair remained back in ponytail. She reached up, straightened and tightened it.

She felt a tugging on her earlobes and felt ear plugs being pushed into each ear. They were pushed in very deep and securely. They wouldn't fall out. She could hear her heart pounding. Suddenly, Ravel's Bolero flooded through the earplugs, blotting out all other sounds. She could see nothing and hear nothing apart from the monotonous beat of the music. She had always liked this music. She had first heard it as young girl when she watched Torville and Dean skating at the winter Olympics.

Then she felt hands under her armpits. They lifted her. She stood up. A hand took her elbow. She was guided across the room. She felt something cold but soft against the front of her thighs. She stopped. She put her hands out and recognized the obstacle as being the back of the sofa. The top was soft and spongy.

A hand on the back of her neck forced her forwards. She bent forwards, half falling over the sofa. Her hands reached out feeling for the cushions below. She felt a foot tapping the insides of her ankles. She spread her feet. The foot kept tapping, and she spread her feet further and further apart, until most of her weight was on her tummy and hips. Her hips sank into the soft padding on the top of the sofa, her feet just touching the floor. She felt something being put around her widely spread ankles and guessed it was a restraint of some kind. She was right.

Her world was dark but her head was flooded with music.

She flinched as she felt someone touch inside of her exposed thighs. Then there were more hands. They were hands that rubbed and probed the soft folds of her labia and the furrow of her backside. Hands that roamed over her body, kneading her breasts. Touching her, exploring her, enjoying her. She didn't know how many hands there were. She felt as if she was being touched all over at once. She moaned quietly to herself. She knew her vagina was saturated and she could feel the coolness on her inner thighs as the juices flowed out of her.

She half gasped as a finger slid mercilessly and without warning into her wet vagina. It probed around inside her. It explored every little bit of her. Her juices were flowing liberally. Then a second finger joined the first. Stretching her insides. She shuddered every time they pressed on her G spot. The invader knew exactly where to press. She shuddered uncontrollably each time they found the spot. But whose fingers were they? Did they belong to Master Michael or were they the long thin fingers of Master Stephen, or even Irene or Stephanie? Her silent moans were drowned out by the music in her head.

The fingers were removed and wiped on the rosette of her anus. The tip of a finger pushed inside her and she could feel it moving around inside her. She had never let any of her lovers touch her there. Although some had wanted to on occasions she forbade it. Now this last sanctuary had been defiled. The finger slipped out of her as quickly and suddenly as it had entered her.

She waited.

Suddenly she felt a burning sting on her backside. It felt like a bee sting only ten times as intense. She screamed. The burning sensation raced down her legs and up through her body. She desperately wanted to rub it. She needed to move, she wriggled, but unknown hands held her hands. She tried to wrench her legs together but the restraints held firm. She needed to be free, to move, she needed to do something to relieve the sting. They held her down. They forced her jaws open and slipped a gag into her mouth to muffle her screams. The sting in her backside was so different to the pleasure she had enjoyed from the hands that had explored her previously. Everything seemed exaggerated. The music in her head seemed so loud and relentless. It was pounding in her ears. The sting intensified, and then again and again. She was being whipped. She had never been whipped before. Her parents had never even smacked her. She didn't know how many times they hit her. The stinging sensation racked her body. She could bear it any longer. She screamed into the gag. It was all she could do. Tears flooded into the blindfold and soaked it.

The beating stopped. No one touched her. She was left alone to ponder the sting that racked her body, the music, her screams and her tears. Oh God what would they do to her next? She stopped screaming and crying. The pain subsided to an endurable level.

Her head was pulled back by her ponytail. They removed the gag from her mouth. She only had time to gasp before something else was thrust into her mouth. It was a penis. She recognized the musky male odor. She felt the pubic hairs tickling her nose. She felt it hardening as it pushing in and out of her mouth. Without warning she felt a hand parting her labia, then hands grabbed her hips, and with one swift push another penis slid its full length into her She lunged forwards with the force, only to gag on the penis in her mouth. The two penises pushed in and out of her in unison. A pair of hands pulled her head onto one penis while another pulled her hips onto the other. She did not know if it was her Master between her legs or in her mouth. The initial pain from the sudden entry into her vagina subsided and became pleasure, mingling with the stinging she still felt in her buttocks. She was confused by the sensations, and still the Bolero thumped away in her ears.

A finger pushed back into her backside. It moved around stretching her. She tried to relax. Then something far larger than a finger was forced into her. As it began to vibrate and she knew what was violating her back passage. Someone was sliding it in and out of her. Each push was slightly deeper than the previous. It was stretching her sphincter muscle, trying to get past it. The sensation from the vibrator and the two penises pushing in and out of her orifices was as relentless as the music in her ears.

She felt a tugging on her nipples as her breasts hung below her. Her nipples hardened instantly. Someone was expertly rolling them between their fingers and thumbs. They then pulled on them lightly before letting them go, only to begin the whole procedure again.

Fingers trailed up and down her ribs, causing goose bumps to spread down her back and onto her tummy. Whose fingers were they? The light touch of the fingers was now tracing over her burning backside. She couldn't distinguish between the sting and the pleasurable tickling feeling. They moved up over the flair of her hips and up over her ribs to her armpits. She was again covered in goosebumps. She moaned with pleasure. Were all four of them enjoying her body at once? Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined so many people using her at once like this.

The penis in her mouth began to thrust into her more urgently. She relaxed her mouth as much as she could, trying not to gag as it pushed deeper. She normally liked putting her hand around the shaft to regulate the depth to which it could push. Hands tightened their grip on the back of her head. They pulled her mouth onto the full length of the shaft. She almost gagged. She could feel the spasms of the penis against her tongue and the musky smell of semen as it permeated up through the back of her nose. A half bitter, half salty taste filled her mouth. She swallowed. He remained motionless apart from an occasional spasm. She felt it becoming softer, becoming more manageable. As it subsided she sucked on it gently.

The penis in her vagina still thrust in and out of her like the relentless rhythm of the music in her head. Someone was still fondling her breasts. Kneading them, tugging her nipples, twisting them, massaging them. All of these actions made her tummy tingle deep inside. The attention she was receiving was relentless. How much longer would it go on? She had lost count but she thought The Bolero had begun again for the fourth or fifth time.

Suddenly the hands on her hips gripped her tighter. The penis sank deeper inside her. She felt Him shudder and spasm. She tightened her vaginal muscles drawing the seeds out him. He was motionless. She continued to milk the last drops of semen out him. When she stopped he withdrew. She felt the semen running out of her and down the insides of her thighs leaving cold sticky trails.

The vibrator was switched off and removed from her anus. The music was building up to a crescendo. She had been denied an orgasm. As she was thinking, the whip landed another three times in quick succession on the soft smooth flesh of her rounded backside. She was too numb to scream. Tears just flooded her eyes and the blindfold. The stinging feeling was rekindled and it mingled with the tingling in her tummy, which had come from the constant pounding of her vagina and the tugging on her nipples.

She waited, wondering what other things they had planned for her. She felt used, defiled. They had mercilessly used every orifice. Pleasured themselves with her body.

She felt the ankle restraints being removed. But she dared not move. The music stopped as they removed the earplugs. She still did not move. She didn't know how long her ordeal had been. She was stiff and sore. Still she waited.

"Eve you can stand up now and remove the blind fold." She heard her Master say.

Slowly she straightened up by pushing herself up against the sofa. Then reached up and slipped the blindfold from her eyes. She looked around, she was dazed. She blinked at the brightness of the fire. The room was dark, lit only by the open fire. All four of them were sitting in chairs around the black bearskin rug in front of the fire; a glass of port in their hands, as if nothing had happened.

"Eve you were very good, little one." Her Master said as he smiled up at her. "Go clean yourself up and come back here as soon as you are ready."

"Yes Master." She replied.

She turned to go to the bathroom.

"Oh Eve, " He said, "you are not to masturbate in the shower. You are denied an orgasm, little one. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master." She replied and headed out the door.

Once in the bathroom, she switched on the light and turned her backside to the mirror. There were six or seven black lines across buttocks. They melded into one another with purple and red bruising forming one large bruise. She gasped at the sight of herself.

She stepped into the shower, the hot water making her backside sting again. She soaped her anus. It was sore. She began to wash her labia and vagina, but it was too sore from the merciless pounding and probing she had received. She just splashed water on it to wash away the semen. But it coagulated against the skin as the water touched it and she had to soap it off. She enjoyed the shower, but felt it was time to return to the lounge.

She dried herself. Gently patting her backside, labia and nipples dry. Brushed her hair and walked to the doorway of the lounge.

She knelt with her legs wide apart, leaned forwards until her cheek touched the cold floorboards and spread her arms out above her head.

"May this girl please enter the room again?" she begged.

"Yes Eve." She heard her Master say.

She rose. Walked quickly across the room to him.

"You may rest on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, Eve." He said.

She knelt down, the fire at her back and the four Free People seated around her in an arc. As they talked and sipped their ports, the flames from the fire made shadows dance across their faces. She lay down on the rug. The warmth of the fire warmed her back, a heat matched only by the heat she felt between her legs. She lay on her hands so that she would not be tempted to touch herself and closed her eyes.

"Yes sleep for a little, Eve." She heard Master Stephen say. "We don't want you to be too tired to enjoy your reward."

"A reward?" she thought as she drifted off into a half sleep with the memory of the Bolero still relentlessly pounding in her head.