Ricked gathered up the implements he thought he might want and placed them strategically near at hand. Then he stood beside the bed where she was tied spread eagle and removed his clothes. His motions were economical, but unhurried. He carefully creased his slacks before draping them over the footboard. His silk shirt was hung by the neck on the foot post. He vaguely wondered where he'd left his jacket. It did have her panties in the pocket, after all. Italian loafers were carelessly toed off and socks tossed casually in the direction of the shoes.
He didn't give his body much more thought than his clothes. He knew that women found him attractive. He was tall with broad shoulders, narrow hips and a long thick cock. He worked out regularly and ate right -- well mostly, but that was primarily so his body could serve him. He needed to be strong enough to lift a woman of any size. He needed to wield a whip for long periods of time without tiring. Those were the things that were important to him. Other than that, he took no particular pride in the package -- it was just the luck of the genetic draw.
The slut tied to his bed had been fortunate in the genetic draw as well. She was cute rather than beautiful, small of stature but with large breasts. However, it was her submission that drew him, the openness of her heart, the quickness of her wit. But above all he was drawn to her unflinching courage. She knew on a visceral level what submission meant, but she had no actual knowledge except what she'd learned from him in the past 24 hours. But here she was bound and helpless, spread-eagle on his bed...dangling over the abyss of her desires.
Rick believed that his role as a Dom was to pry her fingers away from the ledge of her fear, one by one so that she could free-fall into her submission. He would need to convince her to release everything... her fears, her desires, her expectations, her pride... all the traits she believed she needed to function in the world. It would take time for them to build the necessary trust. At first it would seem that she needed to trust him, but she would come to see that she actually needed to trust herself. And when she did finally let go, she wouldn't fall down at all, but would soar.
He shook his head as if to clear it. It was time to get down to business. He sat beside her on the bed and reached out to stroke her face. "Do you remember your colors?"
She smiled up at him, "I don't need colors," she said, "you'll keep me safe."
"Yes, I will," he agreed, "but you have them nonetheless," he reminded her as he reached for his newest little toys. They were circular nipple clamps and he was very happy with them. By turning the screw, he brought 2 small bars together at the center allowing him all the control in choosing the amount of pressure he wanted to apply to his slave's tit. And because they laid flush against the skin instead of sticking out, they rarely fell off.
Patty's nipples were already aroused, but he rubbed the tit between his fingers elongating the nipple as much as possible before applying the clamp. He slowly tightened the screw just until she began to moan, then he stopped and repeated the process on the other side.
