She remained standing as he pushed the ottoman up behind her, and sat when he told her to do so. She watched silently as he laid his toybox on the counter. The 5 foot metal case had 2 combination locks. She knew he kept toys, but had never been privy to his entire arsenal. Her eyes went wide when he opened the case. Secured inside the top portion were the custom made spreader bars he was so proud of, and a collection of straight rods and canes and crops. She knew he favored such things, but had never seen the entire collection. Attached to a board that separated the top and bottom sections, were long and short handled floggers, and a loosely coiled single tail whip. He lifted the board to show her the bottom section containing what he called his assistants. A selection of toys and marital aids chosen specifically for her.
"This part of the game is going to only vaguely resemble games we've played before." Mark said, dropping a spreader bar at her feet. "We're using the 4' mark this time." Remaining seated, Michelle bent forward and attached the Velcro cuffs to her ankles. 4' had her stretched, but not too uncomfortable. As he knelt between her parted thighs, she heard the high pitched whine of the vibrating glove he sometimes used to get her started quickly. "Do not move a muscle." He said, touching a vibrating finger to her oozing opening. "If you even breathe too deeply, it will not go well for you." Michelle gripped the sides of the ottoman as his vibrating thumb massaged her clitoris, and her thighs jerked involuntarily. "You moved." he said smiling. He began moving his vibrating hand while reaching up to squeeze the clamp on her right nipple.
The sudden pressure snatched Michelle's attention from the pleasure of his vibrating hand, to the intense pain of the clamp. "See...this is very different." Mark said. "In this game, pleasure and pain are one. You will beg me to hurt you because of how good it'll feel." As the pressure on her nipple grew to unbearable, the vibration and movement of his hand increased. When the moan finally escaped her lips, she didn't know if it was from pleasure or pain. He withdrew both hands at once, leaving her throbbing in pain, and aching to be filled. She accepted his kiss on her lips, and held her silence as he applied more clamps to her inner and outer labia and clitoris. When he tugged on the single chain connecting all of the clamps she wore, her whimper brought a smile to his lips. "Very good, Milady. Your cries are music to my ears."
Seated on the rough ottoman, Michelle concentrated on relaxing; submitting herself to the pain of the clamps, the sting of her still warm buttocks and thighs, and the strange discomfort of the plug that still impaled her. She ignored the silken cords being wound around her wrists and hands. She paid no attention when the cord was passed through the ceiling hook and she was pulled to standing. She hung limply as she was stretched such that only the balls of her feet touched the floor. She didn't notice when he placed the wireless headphones on her ears, and all pain was gone when the ambient music flooded her brain.
He may have said her name 1 or 100 times, but it was a sharp slap to her face that brought her attention back to her husband and lover and soon to be torturer. "Your mental escapes always intrigue me." His voice was coming from the headphones. "Keeping your mind here will be a special project. I mean, you won't beg me if you can't feel me...and where's the fun in that?" She could not hear the sound of the leather paddle he was slapping against his palm; only the music and his voice. "You can hear me, Milady, correct?" She nodded. "Good. Between your palms is a cord cutter. Pulling up on it will break the bands and end the game. Do you understand?" She nodded again, gaining a hard slap to her thigh from the paddle. "I told you, Milady; I want to hear everything. You will moan for me, and cry for me, and scream for me...and if you can endure without failing, you will beg me."
Michelle stared at him, not hiding the defiance she was feeling. In their time together, she'd rarely cried and certainly never begged. She refused to acknowledge the naked and bound woman she saw dangling helplessly, reflected in every surface of the room. She now fully understood the challenge she'd accepted. He wanted to break her, and she had a choice to either endure or quit. In her heart she knew she would not be broken, and quitting meant losing, so her only choice was to endure. The last thing she saw as he brought the blindfold down over her eyes was his beautiful smile mocking her.
...to be continued.
