Master Photographer

Well known for His bondage-related photography, my Master is definitely creative – not just in BDSM, but in life in general. His photographs of people and Nature have won awards, and He has had several solo exhibitions at local libraries and museums. Having played since before He had started kindergarten, He is also a great piano player, usually practicing at least two hours per day, with almost all that time spent practicing His own compositions, which He then performs at high-class restaurants, corporate events, and other refined venues.

But bondage photography is very much His primary creative calling. And i have benefited as well being one of His primary models.

i wish i knew where His creativity is stored, because if He would agree to let me sell it, He and i would become instant millionaires.

Sometimes, my Master's ideas are unusual, but, somehow, they definitely work. They may not make sense in the moment, but when the finished product is presented, they seem as natural as the rising and setting of the sun.

One such idea came to Him recently. i only knew initially that He was on the phone in His den when i went to inform Him that dinner was ready. From the look in His eyes, i immediately knew both that He would be on the phone for a few more minutes and that He was quite pleased with a new idea.

That evening, instead of having me come to bed naked as usual, He ordered me to instead wear a white cotton panty and my thin black nightie, the one which is so thin and transparent that it does not truly provide any coverage. Clearly, i was confused, even perplexed, since the only time i ever wear clothes to bed are during my period or on those rare occasions when i am sick.

It was perhaps 1:30AM when my Master awoke me, shaking me gently. "Time to go," He said softly, already fully dressed. "Put on your slippers, and hurry."

Not five minutes later, He drove through the night, and i had no idea where W/we were going, nor did i know why. The fact that i was wearing slippers and sleepwear made the situation even more surprising. The fact that He had blindfolded me before taking the car out of the garage quelled my questions.

i had no sense of time. He may have driven for ten minutes, or He may have driven for two hours. With no radio or CD playing and with virtually no traffic so late at night, i could not judge how much time passed between the moment He had pulled out of the driveway and the time the car came to a stop at His desired destination.

His hand gripped my arm tightly as He guided me across a parking lot, onto a sidewalk, through dewy grass, onto another sidewalk, up stairs, and then made me stop. Robbed of my sight, the sounds of His unlocking a door were unmistakable, and a moment later, i knew from the way His shoes clicked upon the tile floor that He had brought me to a building with a large room which was sparsely furnished. i knew when He led me into a narrow hallway, for the sounds of His clicking shoes changed.

i was almost certain that i could feel a significant rise in humidity. But just as i was about to think about that observation, He stopped me, and a moment later was unlocking yet another door, the sounds reverberating along the lengthy hallway. i was indeed curious as to what my Master had planned, and was greatly intrigued at the lack of knowledge of where He had brought me in the middle of the night.

The door open, i heard a switch being flipped, then the buzzing/clicking sound of lights coming to life. i was guided into the new room, aware of the change of floor tiles beneath my slippers. Clearly, only my Master could see me, so even though my chest was exposed despite the nightie, i did not feel embarrassed or concerned, trusting that He had a clever plan, as usual.

He stopped me, and i heard Him set something down, unzip it, and begin rummaging inside. He had likely brought a backpack with Him – probably the navy blue backpack, the one He used as His "Traveling Bag o' Toys" – and that thought brought a subtle smile to my lips. A few moments later, when He turned me to face away from Him and lashed my forearms together with rope behind my back, my heart began to soar despite my fatigue.

i was pleased and thankful when He paused for a few moments to wrap His arms around me, kissing my cheek as He held me from behind. "I'm definitely going to like this," He whispered into my ear, and i smiled widely, for He and i had very similar likes and dislikes.

When my Master released me, i was a little disappointed, for He had not taken a prime opportunity to fondle my breasts, even though He has long said that my breasts are His favorite parts of my anatomy. That was when i knew for certain that His idea was indeed a unusual one, something definitely worth the wait and the anticipation.

"Open," He commanded, and i selflessly obeyed. Seemingly a heartbeat later, a cloth gag had been applied to me, which was even more unusual, for rarely does He ever use a cloth gag with me – "What's the point if it won't truly muffle your?" He had commented once about cloth gags.

i was led again, this time to a room with yet different tile upon the floor. This area was indeed smaller, judging by how sounds did not reverberate nearly as much. When He stopped me, He helped me to kneel upon the floor, and then to lay upon my side upon the tile. Then, after removing my slippers, He gently squeezed a breast and walked away, back to the room from which He had brought me.

For several minutes, i was alone. Especially since i do not awaken very well in the middle of the night, i actually began to drift back into slumber. In fact, i believe i did sleep anew.

...for a cold spray suddenly brought me back, kicking and screaming, to full consciousness. A second cold spray was added to the first, then a third cold spray, and a fourth, and a fifth. my thin, transparent nightie clung to me, the wet garment now definitely exposing my breasts to the view of anyone in the area. my white cotton panty may as well have been molded to me like a second skin, for i knew that it would provide a very distinct outline of my sex to anyone looking at me at just the right angle.

i screamed and rolled around upon the wet tile, trying to scramble to my knees but unable to do so without the use of my arms. Everywhere i rolled, cold water befell me. Without question, i was very much awake, but while i was not terrified, i definitely needed to escape the cold water, very much aware of the goose bumps upon my skin and the hardened nipples attempting to break through the nightie...

Three weeks later, my Master hung a new framed picture in the basement dungeon. It was a picture of me from that night, a drain clearly evident near my head, my wet hair wrapped around my face. my mouth was indeed open wide in a scream which the black cloth gag certainly would not have muffled. my wet transparent nightie did indeed cling to me, allowing a flawless view of my nipples and areolas as my body instinctively twisted. With my legs splayed in a very unladylike manner, my wet panty did indeed provide a nice cameltoe view, especially given how my earlier struggles had caused the nightie to ride up and settle around my hips. Multiple sprays of water were evident in the photo, as were the goose bumps upon my chilled flesh. Plenty of water ran into the drain near my head. It was definitely an action shot, one which i could think about fondly since the situation which had produced that photograph was safely in the past.