While she was kneeling on her aching bare knees, shivering in the cold, cluttered basement, she recalled the brief telephone conversation with her Master.
“Get in position.” Master instructed.
After having been trained by him as his slave for months now, she knew what get in position meant all too well. She was to remove all clothing. Kneel on her knees right behind the six by six wooden, load-bearing basement beam. Place the wide, black leather ringed collar snuggly around her neck and hook the heavy leash onto the front ring of the collar. Stuff the large, bright red ball gag into her mouth and attach it securely. Tighten the bull nose nipple clamps on one nipple, wrap the chain around the beam, and clasp the other side onto the other nipple. Finally, she was to conceal her eyes with the black blindfold.
It normally took Master forty-five minutes from his phone call to pull up in the driveway and he required her to be “in position” for thirty minutes before his arrival. She performed her duties with the concentration of a surgeon, making sure everything was just so for him.
Master also required that his other implements be lined up neatly on the table to her left. The thin white rope, duct tape, red and blue ping pong paddle, leather whip, floggers, dildos, and lube were all in line with the metal storage case full of miscellaneous items including wooden clothespins. She was in charge of clean up and maintenance of all tools and took pride in her assigned duty.
Her mind was playing tricks on her. Was that someone knocking? Was someone watching me? Did I feel something just brush up against my leg? Did I hear a car door? Oh my knees are hurting, she thought to herself, as she idly swipes at the nonexistent thing tickling her leg, the rough concrete floor getting harder and harder as each minute dragged by.
Her nipples are aching, dreading the moment he removes the biting clamps and the blood rushes back into swelling sensitive skin on her breasts. Her entire body is beginning to shake with the cold, the dread, the excitement, and the pain. She keeps leaning her forehead against the beam trying to get her bearings straight, the blackness of the blindfold making her seem off balance, making her not trust her judgment, her sense of sight having been removed. She jumps with the bark of a distant dog, the mutt sounded as if it was right beside her, the restrictive chains jingling in the night. She could hear her own broken pants as a neighboring car nears the dark quiet house, her ears straining to hear the acceleration of Master’s car up the steep driveway. She relaxes when the humming car passes the house and remains on its journey.
Oh my God, she thought, her eyes rolling behind the blindfold, her head cocking to one side, letting out a short gasp. Am I crazy? Am I going to scream before he gets here, releasing tension in my own warped twisted mind? Her panicked thoughts rambled on, her palms sweating despite the cold temperature in the damp basement.
She realizes her pussy is aching, wet with desire, and her hips are moving in circles. How long have I been kneeling here? Hasn’t it been thirty minutes yet? What will he do to me once he arrives? Have I done everything he asked? She thinks to herself, longing for his arrival, as the minutes continue to drag on. She rolls her head from side to side, as much as the collar will allow, trying to relax and enjoying the feel of her long dark hair tickling the very top of her ass.
She mentally checks off items in her sick and confused mind, hoping she followed her Master’s rules, trying to pass the time away. She begins from the top and makes her way down. The blindfold, yes, the gag, yes, the collar, yes, the leash, and here she abruptly stops. OH MY GOD I FORGOT THE LEASH, she screams inside of her head, the beginnings of a low, crying whine emitting from her gag-stuffed mouth. Her brow furrows and her head jerks from side to side, her blindly glancing at nothing.
She is uncertain of what to do. I have to put the leash on but what if he arrives NOW and catches me getting back up or what if he is already in here watching me, she ponders her options as her body begins to shake uncontrollably.
She takes the chance and slowly removes the right side of the nipple clamps from her pulsing nipple and the shooting white, hot pain is almost unbearable. “Oh, oh, OH” she moans into the echoing basement, her voice deep and muffled from the gag in her mouth, air pressing through her clenched teeth and over the round ball as she draws in her first full breath. Will he know what I am doing? She wonders, as her face crumbles into a dry cry. She pulls the blindfold up past her forehead so she can see, blinks her glassy eyes not accustomed to the bright overhead lighting, nervously looks behind her and in all directions, achingly tries to stand, her knees ache so, holds on to the beam while her crumbling weak legs get used to the unexpected weight, until she finally stands up. Both of her legs crack and pop and she cannot fully straighten either one, the minutes of inactivity in an uncomfortable position had taken its toll.
She quickly limps over to the box of implements, fighting the cramp beginning in her middle left toe, most of the instruments lined up on the table. She digs through the clothespins in the storage case hurriedly, looking over at the closed basement door, stopping to listen for any sounds of his approach, and finds the leash on the bottom of the case. DAMN how could I have been so STUPID, she thinks, hoping he doesn’t burst in the door and catch her.
