The Box Ch 04 Mask And Mansion

It had been one week since the mind blowing, extremely painful, utter body-shuddering orgasm she had had in the grip of the otherworldly potion he made her drink. Had she not appreciated the wit, the novelty, the extreme experiences that it came with, she might have felt resentful towards him for making her go through such pain unannounced, especially after his genuine promise of release. Instead, she admired him for his creativity and the effort he put into providing her with such colourful sensations, turning their time together almost into a carnival.

Yet, despite the fact that she had technically reached an orgasm, it had been so painful and strange, it had been something totally different; provided the physical release to her body, but only confusion to her mind. After a week, she needed another release so badly now, feeling the ache every hour of every day. Of course he was aware of this. He noticed her wearing loose, silky long dresses all the time and knew so well that she did so to enjoy the tantalising caresses of the silk on her body as she moved about. He watched her wake up every morning in bed, her legs crossed, her hips unconsciously moving around in the early seconds of wakefulness, trying to get some stimulation between her legs. He saw her at night turning right and left and left and right, trying to fall asleep unsuccessfully only to give up and start touching herself in delicate places, and he listened to the moans she tried to conceal, hoping that he was fast asleep. His eyes closed, pretending to sleep, he found delight in seeing that she would rub herself for a long time and reach the edge many times but never betray their game by secretly taking herself over that hill.

He enjoyed her trembling like a gazelle every time he brushed her fingers on her neck, on her chest, on her breasts, and immediately freezing like a stone, holding her breath, totally focused on the slightest pleasure he could provide her, eyes looking deeply at him, silently asking for more. He heard her pleads, but he made her wait purposefully.

It had been a beautiful Saturday out in the sun and green. They spent wonderful time strolling in the woods, lying on grass cuddled up reading their books, him giving her the occasional caress or rub under the blanket making her see butterflies.

Back at the house, after dinner, they were in the living room enjoying a cup of tea when she noticed that the box had returned to the mantlepiece.

She gazed at it, biting her lower lip, feeling an excitement already of the unknown pleasures or wickedness of the item inside would bring. He had placed the box there ten minutes ago and was waiting for her to notice it, watching her. When he realised she did, he stood up and picked up the box and placed it onto the low coffee table in front of her.

"Shall we?" he said, reaching out to her neck to get the key from her necklace. He could not help but give her a caress with his fingertips on the nape of her neck before he moved to the opening clamp, which sent a delicious shiver down her body. He took the key off the chain, and handed it to her.

"Open," he said.

She put the key in the lock and turned it. That familiar "Click", which gave her an increased heart beat. She realised that she had started to associate the sound of the opening click of the box with arousal. She opened the lid; there inside laid a delicate Venetian mask. image

"Beautiful" she said, caressing the mask.

"I have arranged us a visit to a special invitation-only ball. We are going tonight."

"Tonight?" she asked.

"Yes, we leave in an hour. I have also thought about your preparation. Come."

He walked to the bedroom and she followed. On the bed, there was a black garment bag from a designer brand. She opened the zip and took a long strapless black velvet dress out, very elegant, ankle length. She liked it, he knew she would.

"Shall I wear it now?"

"In a moment" he said. "I'd like you to wear something else first."

She thought he had bought her new underwear. Instead, he reached for his bedside cabinet and took out a length of crimson rope. She had not seen this before, this was not their regular jute rope, it was shinier and softer. He undressed her, and started tying a karada around her upper body. He made sure to make an extra square knot where he would tie the rope around her vulva and placed the knot precisely on her clit. She let out a small gasp as she felt the knot pressing her clit, and shivered with the thought of stimulation this might give her all night. She bit her lower lip in arousal. Before he finished his work, he played with her briefly, pinching her nipples, running his fingers over the crotch rope on her vulva, just to tease her and increase her yearning, if such a thing is possible. When he was finished, he asked her to lie down the bed and took a few pictures, admiring his work and her beauty. image

He then went to get ready himself. He wore his Italian black suit, a white shirt, and finished with silver cufflinks that were shaped like a loop of rope, and a bow tie. In the meantime, she put the black velvet dress over his work, applied her make-up, and wore only a pair of diamond and ruby earrings as jewellery.

They were ready to leave. The car and the driver were already waiting outside.

* At The Ball *

They drove for about an hour in the black Jaguar. She did not know where they were going. They left the city and continued driving into the countryside. Finally the car left the main road and passed some large iron gates and continued driving on a private road with grassland and trees on both sides until they reached a Victorian manor house. He handed her the mask to wear and helped her tie the bows at the back. The driver opened the doors and they got out of the car, first him, then her. He came next to her, took her hand and led her through the marble columns on each side of the wide porch. In front of the grand wooden door, he reached out to the devil shaped cast iron knocker and knocked with a pattern, like morse code, twice.

A butler welcomed them in and took their coats while the security searched his bag for any item or substance considered unacceptable. Then the butler showed them the way towards the main hall and the grand marble stairs. She glanced at the large portraits on the walls, the antique Persian carpets on the tiled floors, classical vases, statues and other ornaments placed tastefully around the period furniture. Finally they reached a closed door and stopped. This must be a banquet hall, she thought. The butler opened the door for them indicating that they were welcome to enter.

They walked a few steps and reached a purple velvet curtain blocking their way. He pulled one wing of the curtain aside and opened the entrance for her. She curiously walked through.

They found it quite dark in the spacious room, at least at first, arriving from the well lit corridors of the house. It was a very large space with ornamented tall ceilings, not a banquet hall but a ballroom. There were many windows but the same purple velvet curtains covered all of them. Unlike the rest of the house they passed, the furniture here was quite modern.

Groups of people were sitting on black leather Chesterfields or lying on large red ottomans or minimalist white leather chaise longues placed on each side of the hall, others were standing next to cocktail tables in the middle or walking around. Everyone was very elegantly dressed, like them, but not many people were wearing masks. She could not see the details or far out in the space, as the light was scarce, as in a night club. She noticed the huge crystal chandeliers on the ceilings which were providing very dim light. She realised they were holding candles, not electric bulbs. Baroque music was playing, but this would change into alternative rock, psychedelic, techno and other genres as time passed and the mood of the ball changed.

They obtained their own champagne flutes and canapés from the passing waiters and joined everyone else in drinking and and having a light bite, getting accustomed to the place. New couples were turning up one by one.The space was filling up with more elegantly dressed people and the energy of the space was increasing.

He took her hand as they strolled deeper into the room to discover in full what the place was to offer. Further inside, the furniture had more variety, sofas, ottomans and cocktail tables were accompanied by St Andrew's crosses on the walls, flogging benches, polished wood pillories, leather tables with cuffs and restraints scattered here and there, enough distance from each other, probably to provide personal space to the users. She noticed quite a few suspension beams and hooks too as they walked by. Not many people were occupying this space yet, but that was soon to change as the dining time ended and the music changed from classical strings to bass beats.

********

It was an hour after they arrived and the scene had changed a bit, as had the music. Three couples had been socialising with each other in the most intimate ways on one of the corner sofas. People were kissing and caressing each other everywhere they looked. Further into the room, sounds of people being hit and caressed, exposed and tortured, pleasured and degraded, were getting lost in the music, which was loud enough to anonymise the sounds of lust but not too loud to distract.

They themselves had been kissing and talking and easing into the night on one of the black leather Chesterfields while he was getting prepared to give her an experience which he had been planning for some time, something he thought she'd enjoy very much, something to appeal to her darker and vulnerable selves. Right then a couple in front of them about three meters away started a scene. Little did he know at that moment about the slight change of plans this simple scene would bring to their night.

It was simply a man in black dominating his sub. He was in suit trousers but wore a basic black cotton t-shirt, revealing his coloured tattoos. His crumpled white dress shirt that he had been wearing over the top was discarded on the floor. She was in a knee height strapless burgundy satin dress, basic but chic, its only prominent feature a full length zip in the front. They were both standing up, in front of one of the marble columns. He was holding a leather flogger, with which he was gently caressing her body, teasing her sensually, giving her shivers as he unhurriedly ran the item through her open chest, her uncovered arms, her thin neck, her pink cheeks, her shoeless feet... She was focused on the woman's face. Her face was illuminated in the candlelight; one could see the delight, the complete surrender in her tranquil expressions.

With one pull of the zip all the way down, the man in black stripped the woman of her strapless dress and revealed her bare flesh. The dress fell on the floor, as he took both her hands inside his and lifted them above her head, indicating that she left them there. He whispered something in her ear, then held the beautiful leather instrument in his hand and very calmly, started to hit her with it. He was gentle and easy at first, caresses and feather light smacks; her face was filled with a charming expression of euphoria. He increased the strength of the impact with each blow. The light caresses on her breasts turned into hard painful smacks on her nipples, soft touches on her belly became hard blows that made her writhe in agony, processed with deep breaths.

One thing drew her attention the most and made the scene distinct and quite unusual for her. The woman in burgundy was not bound at all, but she was completely motionless. She stayed still despite the titillating touches and the hurtful smacks, her arms stayed in place up her head as if they were tied invisibly to the column behind her, her legs stayed wide apart as if there laid a spreader bar between them; her body did not sway or jerk but she stood there and absorbed all feelings, motionless, with a stoic acceptance. He controlled her. The woman's self-control and devoted stillness raised a respect and interest in him, in her. What kind of man would earn such surrender? What would it take to bind someone so tight with no bonds? With just a whispered command in the ear? How could one control another so deeply and from within? That was when her attention moved from the woman's face and demeanour to the man's.

He was well-built and looked strong, handsome even, but there was something about his face and his manner that struck her. He looked quite casual in the scene, very comfortable, had a light smile on his face. He did everything so naturally, his movements flew. A light, an energy stellated from his person. The way he handled the instrument was joyful, the flogger felt like a natural extension of his body. She developed a sudden deep curiosity for this man, wanted to understand what it was about him. Maybe she was even attracted to him.

All this time Adam was watching her watch the couple; her watching the woman, then her watching the man. He saw her appreciating the woman's stillness, her exquisite face expressions. He sensed her intrigue for the man. He witnessed the compersion she experienced, the curious pleasure she got from watching their pleasure.

In a while the other couple ended their play and the woman drooped into the man's arms. Together they disappeared further down the room perhaps to one of the more private cosier spaces. As they left, Adam commented about what they've just watched, pointing out her own vicarious arousal triggered by watching her, her curiosity about him. Then he started whispering into her ear, making his way slowly underneath her long velvet dress.

"But you are already a ball of arousal, aren't you my sweet thing? You are already yearning for being touched, being touched to the end, to that delicious end." He caressed her legs and allowed his electrifying soft touches to linger on her thighs for a while, then he made his way to that very spot where the knot on the crotch rope rested. He found the knot, and simply pressed one finger on it, kept it there, keeping pressure. Just one finger resting on her aching clit, just that focused pressure on that throbbing nub, made her close her eyes, let out a soft moan, start tumbling down into a profound dark hole. She felt dizzy with desire and long suppressed arousal.

"Come closer, and closer, but DO NOT cum.", he snarled into her ear, as he now started to make slow circles with his fingers, just on that nub which was her core now, her point of existence. Slow circles, round and round, regular, with a very slowly accelerating rhythm... She was very fast tumbling further and further into that dark hole, it was impossible to stop the fall now. One more rub with his finger, one more circle... and she had no control over her body anymore, she was losing it, she knew, that pink warm liquid was coming rushing to flood her veins with its almighty. It started. Yess. She twitched, once. But... He. Took. His. Finger. Away.

She cried a silent incomprehensible scream of anguish, of disbelief, of frustration, of disappointment, as her body continued what it started with weak spasms but the release and satisfaction was ripped away from her, ruined.

"I told you NOT to cum" he growled in her ear, being well aware it was him who pushed her to the point of no return. It was impossible for any human being being denied pleasure so long and hold back from what he just gave her. Tears of confusion and desperation started to form in her eyes. She had just had a pseudo-orgasm stolen and her body wanted something, anything, to satisfy the need. Anything. Anything against her skin. Pleasure denied, she now yearned for something hard, something harsh, something impactful on her skin, painful, yes. She wanted to be hit and hurt, she craved the release of emotions she would feel under the pain. This is why she loved those hated ruins.

This is where he had wanted her.

He lightly traced her fingers on her flesh, producing shivers, and found her red lips. He traced the boundaries of her lips with his thumb, pressing it lightly on the right side of her mouth. She opened her lips instinctively with a primal desire and caught his thumb, took it inside her mouth a little, and started sucking it with a carnal need, mouth wrapped around the thumb, pushing it in and out of her mouth with her tongue, savouring it as if it were his cock. His cock throbbed in response, very hard in his pants; he found it difficult not to undress there and then and feed his full length into her mouth, replacing his thumb with it all the way. Instead, he replaced his thumb with his own mouth, kissed her with all the passion rising from his manhood, enjoyed a long deep dance of twirling tongues. Mouth to mouth. Body to body. With her surrendering mouth, with her desirous tongue she was begging silently, "Take me!" Of course he heard her. But he wanted to give her something else. An intense experience he knew she would like, as he knew many of her desires and fantasies, had a mental list of many colourful or darker scenes she'd described him in intricate detail over time.

He slowly ended the kiss, and told her "Wait here sweet thing." He got up and walked away into the hall. She watched him idly until he was no longer seen in the crowd.

He went to get drinks, she assumed. She lay on the Chesterfield in her long black velvet dress, knees comfortably bent up on the sofa. She closed her eyes to focus on the strong sensations she felt. She processed the frustration after the ruin, and enjoyed the arousal that started to wash through her body so shortly after the faint spasms. Blurry visions of caresses on her breasts, cocks entering her holes, men and women kissing her body, consumed her imagination, she did not have room for any other thoughts.

In a while he returned.

"Come" he said, simply. She followed him into the long hall, until they arrived at the end, where people had gathered in a circle around a leather flogging bench and a large white leather ottoman in front of it. The man in black from before, the one whom she had watched with an intrigued desire a while earlier, was standing next to the bench. She thought they were going to watch another scene but he held her hand and gently guided her in the middle of the circle. She hesitated to follow; "Trust me with this" he whispered in her ear. With those words, a thousand thoughts and worries that had started to rush towards her slowed and changed course into an excited anticipation. She squeezed his hand and blinked both eyes, saying yes, meaning it. They walked past the refined crowd and stopped in the middle of the circle.

She stood there in front of thirty or forty people feeling like their prey. Her mask was hiding her face and her long black dress was covering her body but she already felt exposed and vulnerable. This feeling would soon peak when he reached her back, to her zipper, pulled it down, and made the strapless dress fall down onto the floor at her feet. She was now only wrapped in her beautiful crimson karada, naked except for the rope, her ruby necklace and her black stilettos, exposed, exhibited. And of course, the lacy mask, which she knew now why he made her wear; to hide her even when exposed. image

"Remember to safeword if it is ever too much," he whispered in her ear, then guided her on her stomach on the leather bench. He was so excited himself to gift her one of her darkest desires, and already aroused by the thought of her lascivious reactions to what was about to happen. Her round shapely ass was high in the air, and her pussy ornate with the crimson rope was visible to the audience. He got some black rope, and tied only her wrists together in front of her, dangling down the bench, unattached to anything else. Not to secure her: symbolic.