My Time of Need

All afternoon, the desire had been welling up deep within Me. My eyes had been practically glued to anything which would give My the time: the bottom-right corner of My laptop, the watch on My left wrist, the old analog clock on the wall of the break room, My cell phone...

I left the office ten minutes early, but it had been preplanned so that I could drop by the independent shipping store I frequented to mail My sister's birthday present. Yet even with the distractions of navigating rush-hour traffic and handling a transaction with Stacey at the store, I could still feel it:

...a dark, primal urge, a desire which bordered on being instinctive, a need which consumed Me as it occasionally did.

I knew what I needed, and I knew who would give it to Me.

Sitting at a traffic light, I unclipped My cell phone from My belt and scanned through the phone book until I had located her entry:

natasha.

"Good evening, Master," she answered politely and respectfully. "How may this one serve you?"

"Are you free this evening?" I asked.

"Yes, Master."

"you're not just telling Me you are just because that's what I'm hoping to hear, are you?"

"No, Sir. I was planning on simply reading in the bathtub tonight."

I felt a pulsing within My slacks as I imagined natasha naked in the bathtub, leaning back as she read - most likely a book of BDSM erotica, her favorite genre. The pulsing became more prominent as My thoughts shifted to natasha naked as she knelt before Me, looking up at Me with devotion in her expressive eyes.

"I promise, you'll be able to read in the bathtub tonight. But I definitely need you tonight." I tried to keep My voice and tone as neutral as possible, but I do not believe I succeeded.

"i understand, Master. i'm more than happy to help You, Sir."

"Thank you, natasha," I said from deep in My heart. "Can you come by around, say, 7:30 tonight?"

"Of course, Master. Shall i bring anything?"

"Plenty of endurance," I advised her. "Plenty of endurance..."

*****

As soon as the door had been closed and locked, I seized My longtime friend and devoted slave in powerful arms, making her groan softly as I practically crushed her. "You definitely need this, Sir," she observed, knowing Me so well after so many years. Clearly, she could feel My need in how I held her; she perhaps could even sense the intensity of My need seeping from My pores.

A few minutes later, she was naked save for her earrings, a black leather collar encircling her neck, her leash in My hand as I guided her up the stairs, proud of her as she crawled at My side. Of the slaves I had known and personally trained over the years, natasha was indeed the only one who I knew would consent to helping Me in My time of need.

...a need which had only grown stronger and more urgent since I had spoken with her from the car.

The door to the dungeon was already wide open, and I led her inside. she knew its layout by heart; she had even selected some of the equipment within these four walls.

"Stand," I commanded, and she did with the grace of a ballet dancer. I smiled, acknowledging her willingness to be here in this situation and also admiring her thoughtfulness at having tied her hair into a ponytail to make things a little easier for Me.

My full dress was a normal counterpoint to her nudity when W/we were in private. natasha did, however, place a hand over My heart, looking up at Me with acceptance.

I kissed her, slowly, gently. My hands tightened upon her shoulders as she yielded to Me, her arms at her sides, her demeanor submissive and small, a soft whimper the only sound she made.

I released the leash, allowing it to fall toward but not quite touch the floor, its long chain trapped between U/us. With a step back, the kiss ended, and the leash moved into its gravity-inspired position, resting against her, passing between her breasts.

Like the rest of her body, natasha's breasts were indeed pale, a testimony to having spent most of her life indoors by personal preference. her nipples and areola gave her breasts color, and almost gave them a personality.

"Wall," I commanded, "Position 2."

Position 2 was a place where shackles had been added to the south wall. I had definitely taken mercy on her and My other slaves by having the metal shackles lined with a thin layer of padding underneath fake fur, a tactic which also allowed the shackles to better fit each slave's ankles and wrists. natasha moved to Position 2 and waited calmly as I secured her, the short chains giving her very limited range of movement. Moreso than any of My other slaves, natasha seemed truly "at home" in the shackles, as if she knew deep in her soul that she belonged in the shackles, naked and exposed, vulnerable and unprotected.

"Please hurt me, Master," she requested softly. "i want to scream for you. Please."

I knew that she was a masochist at heart, yet I also knew that she was making this request for My benefit, to help My sadistic nature to finally come to the fore even faster. Other than Myself, she knew My sadistic side better than anyone else, for she had borne the violent brunt of My need more than a few times in the past, and yet she still desired to serve Me.

...to help Me through such a time of need.

For just a moment, I thought of the last time natasha had been the willing victim of My sadistic need. It had ended with her being stretched on the rack, her muscles protesting from the strain, her voice nearly hoarse from the screams induced by the electricity flowing across her clitoris, her sweat and her tears mixing with My seed as her heavily-marked breasts heaved and her agonized body twisted while I straddled her, stroking Myself over her expressive face. That had been a very powerful night, practically fusing her soul with Mine. In the morning, when she finally left, she was still walking a little gingerly and cursing the bra she wore even though the pain made her feel more alive and the fact that the worst pain was in her breasts made her much more aware of her own femininity.

"Please, Sir..."

Without warning, I slapped her - not as hard as I possibly could, but definitely hard enough to suddenly turn her head to the side and make her grunt from the impact of My hand with her cheek. It was enough to draw My eyes to her chest, to watch her breasts rise and fall a little quicker.

"Do it, Sir, please..."

Again, a slap, just a little harder. natasha's cheek was already beginning to redden slightly from the dual impacts. My inner sadist smiled, but was not satisfied yet.

...was not yet even close to being satisfied.

The third slap was aimed not at her left cheek, but at her left breast. It came hard enough to make her gasp aloud and stiffen in her bonds, and before she could exhale, My left hand graced her right breast with the same violence. The blows came faster and faster, My large hands open wide to achieve maximum coverage upon contact, My slave's breasts jiggling nicely from her struggles, her breath catching repeatedly in her throat, her eyes trying to remain open to watch My face...

It was not enough, but it was a start. If this would have been enough, I could have called upon janet, or perhaps chloe or tricia or even colleen.

It was a start, and as I paused to gaze upon the reddening of her chest, natasha's clear discomfort touched something deep within Me, tearing Me for a moment between wanting to increase the pain and wanting to console her.

"Master..." she whispered.

With deliberate slowness, I unbuckled and removed My belt, doubling over the long leather strap. I knew that natasha did not enjoy the belt, because of how she was raised: All her physical punishments had been accomplished with her father's leather belt. her eyes widened, this time with a little fear - fear of the symbolism, fear of the past - and it brought a small smirk to My lips as I fed from her psychological pain.

"Please n-no!" she stuttered, her body against stiffening in her bonds. natasha was acting like a cornered rabbit, fearful yet unable to move because of her fear. As I dragged the looped end of the belt down her right side, her lower jaw quivered, and then her entire body followed suit.

Without warning, I slapped her with My free hand, and to her credit, she did not make a sound. The unexpectedness of the sudden impact was to My advantage, however, for it allowed Me to swing the belt while her eyes were closed...

My slave howled from the kiss of the leather across her upper thighs, and a heartbeat later, she was struggling in her bonds, the short chains rattling nicely. Faster and faster the blows rained upon her, focusing solely on her thighs. Stripes of red formed, then the pale areas began to fill in, her thighs coloring nicely. I could feel the satisfaction seeping into My dark heart as I became drunk from her cries and relished her struggles.

her torment reached a moment of pause. she was breathing loud and hard, still struggling in her bondage as the pain from her thighs radiated through her hot blood. Although her head had drooped, natasha looked up at Me, almost pleading.

...for more.

I knew natasha well: In certain times, her need to receive pain can match My need to deliver pain. This was not one of those times when her need matched Mine, but she still wanted more.

I still needed more.

Stepping forward, I caressed her cheek and tipped her head upward so I could look directly into her expressive eyes. For a moment, I became lost in her inner anguish, practically able to see her nerves screaming for all the right reasons. I kissed her forehead softly, a moment of calm in the middle of a tremendous storm.

With a step back, I added one more stripe to natasha's thighs. Sadly, she did not cry out, for she held her breath and tried to quickly internalize the renewed pain, but she definitely caused the chains to rattle, and that alone brought a small smile to My lips.

"Painslut," I praised My slave, and she smiled a little despite breathing rather hard.

The calm continued long enough for natasha to regain her breath as I gently stroked her bare chest and balanced the soft weight of a breast in My palm. I could tell she wanted to touch Me, and I chuckled softly as the shackles thwarted her.

I slapped her chest without warning, and it stilled her. Bending down, I took a nipple into My mouth and suckled gently, almost wishing that she could truly nurture Me.

...and bit as hard as possible.

her scream was delicious, and I did not relent. I ground her nipple between My teeth, torturing her sensitive bud, enjoying how she flailed futilely, relishing her agony as the shackles ensured her entrapment. Without looking, I knew that there were tears pouring forth from her eyes.

When I released her nipple and stood at last, I stepped away as I began to undress. Soon I was topless, the clothes set over the back of a cushioned chair in a corner of the dungeon. I had not yet looked at her, My dark heart filling with the sounds of her agony and her love of physical torment. Within My slacks, I was definitely aroused, and began to stroke Myself slowly before turning around to face her, so that My slave could see for herself just how much I was enjoying her predicament.

Crossing the dungeon, I made a show of unzipping My slacks, of withdrawing My thick erection. By the time I reached the shackled slave, I was stroking Myself openly. "you do this to Me," I whispered, My voice hopefully conveying My admiration and appreciation of her physical sacrifice, of her as an important person in My life.

With O/our height differences, I had to squat somewhat to glide My leaking tip between her feminine folds. The pain in her nipple was still evident from her ragged breathing and the reddened point on her breast.

I rose savagely, momentarily lifting My slave off the ground, the swift entry adding yet more pain to her consensual plight even though she was already aroused from the abuse of her body. Several times I thrust up into her, My fingernails biting into the flesh at her hips, My teeth sinking into a shoulder, hurting her, paining her...

I squatted one final time, withdrawing from her warmth. she was definitely in subspace, absorbing and absorbed by the pain. The scant few moments of pleasure had probably been the catalyst, allowing her mind to slip into that mystical realm I knew she enjoyed. natasha was at her most submissive in such times, able to endure virtually anything and deny Me virtually nothing, yet this was also when she was at her most fragile - not of body, not of spirit, not of heart, but of mind.

While I soaked up her agony like a sponge absorbs a liquid, I still maintained the presence of mind to hold Myself in check just enough to satisfy My own needs while not neglecting hers. I wanted her to suffer - I needed her to suffer - and moved down the wall to where the floggers hung in a nice, ordered row. With a giddy sneer, I selected one with many long black tails and returned to the softly-groaning slave.

"Suffer for Me," I commanded her, even though I doubt she truly heard My menacing words. I began softly battering natasha's chest, but the blows quickly came faster, harder, the thick narrow tails spanking her with an awe-inspiring power, her breasts being jostled more than enough to make her keenly aware of her femininity as she struggled in the shackles and vocalized her physical distress.

This was beautiful. her bondage was beautiful. The reddening of her dancing body was beautiful. her submission was beautiful. her groans and cries and hard breaths were beautiful. The rattling of the chains was beautiful. her suffering was beautiful.

I paused, setting the flogger aside. Stepping forward, I squatted again, positioning Myself, and violently rose into her once more. As she pulled against the shackles with renewed vigor, I groaned from the clenching of her body, reveling in her warm wet fit. While My slave's face clearly displayed her pain, Mine clearly displayed My pleasure - a pleasure obtained as much from her body as from her pain.

Reaching up and behind her, I seized natasha's hair and pulled strongly downward. she howled from the erotic stimulation, writhing as she always did when her hair was pulled, her movements causing My erection to shift position within her, to seemingly touch everywhere inside her without needing to thrust into her. Physically, she rode Me as I rode her torment, adding to her distress by pulling even harder on her hair.

"M-Master!" natasha whispered breathily, the pain clearly evident in her breaking voice. I thrust violently up into My slave once again, keeping My hands still so that as I briefly lifted her off her feet, the pain in her scalp increased and resulted in a renewed scream directed at My dark heart. I continued violating her, fucking her, growling with each powerful thrust, forcing My will upon her as I forced her body to yield and accommodate My thickness.

I stopped suddenly, breathlessly kissing away a few tears before kissing her soft lips. Still sheathed fully within her, I released My slave's hair and brushed My tongue across her upper lip. natasha pulled again at the shackles, the short chains preventing her from moving her arms and her legs too much.

Ruthlessly, I fucked My slave again, hard fast jabs piercing as deeply as possible into her body. With My hands seizing her sides just beneath her armpits and My fingernails digging into her flesh, My need was almost sated - her pain and especially her tears had soothed the sadist within Me, but it was time now to realize My secondary need, and with the fury of a ravenous beast, her body eased My carnal hunger and drew out growls of such intensity that they surprised even Me, and when at last My lust was expelled from Me, My fingernails clawed down natasha's sides several times, her howls of pain adding the finishing touch to a satisfying evening.

As soon as I could regain My breath, I eased from natasha's body and worked swiftly to free her from the shackles. her face was streaked with tears from the pain, her breath ragged from the fierce violation, her limbs weak from the many sensations threatening to overwhelm her body. With great care, I eased her to the floor and sat there with her, holding her, rocking her gently as I kissed away her tears, allowing her to return to reality on her own schedule.

"That was... intense," natasha finally whispered. Looking up at Me, she smiled. "You seem much calmer now, Master."

"I am," I acknowledged. "Thank you. If only every slave could be like you..."

natasha blinked slowly, fatigue setting in. "If every slave was like me, Sir, then would You think i am so special?"

My answer was a tight hug, which in her state she could only return weakly.

In the morning, natasha was still not entirely herself, but insisted that I go to the office. "i'll be just fine, Master," she assured Me. "i just need more time to sleep and to revel in the aches You gave me."

The kiss was a heartfelt one, and then I headed to the office, with more than My sadistic and carnal needs having been satisfied.