Ginny awoke to the smells of Earl Grey tea and hot cakes filling her nostrils. She was in a canopied bed and never felt so comfortable, warm, and was enveloped in goose down. The maid set down the teapot, arranged a few items on the tray and left the dark room. A glimmer of light shone through the heavy curtains and Ginny stared at the steam pouring upwards from the teacup, catching a single particle of dust in the morning light. She remembered the previous evening's events slowly, getting dressed, the gift, the essay reading, her confession, running up the stairs, but it was blank after that. Mason finally stood from a chair and spoke up, pulling the curtains aside, nearly blinding Ginny with the light that forced its way upon her.
"You have two hours to ready yourself. I took the liberty of getting your items brought here, your implements of discipline, your restraints, and toys. I found nothing of value in your closet and spoke with your father," he said.
"You spoke with my father?"
"Yes. I wanted to be sure he was comfortable with my presence on the property and with my business with you," he said.
"Well what did he say?" she asked.
"He's coming around. I think he understands I don't want to steal you from him." Ginny sat quietly looking down. Mason stared at her momentarily. "As I was saying, we will have a training session in two hours. I would eat soon. You don't want to be hungry; you don't want a full stomach either. I expect total cleanliness, inside and out when I arrive at," Mason looked at his watch, "10:35. Be nude, your face and hair clean, no cosmetics. And that collar is waterproof." Ginny ran her fingers over the mesh. "Clear?"
"But make up makes me feel sexy," she said.
"I don't want you to feel sexy. I want you to feel submissive." He waited for his words to take their effect and left the room. After eating in bed Ginny explored the room finding an empty closet, empty drawers, windows which wouldn't open enough for her to climb out. She entered the adjoining bathroom to find it much better supplied with enema bags, her set of graduated crystal plugs, plush towels, brushes for teeth, hair, nails, polish remover, everything she might need and she began to realize just how much work nudity really was.
She cleaned herself as best she could and when Mason entered she was kneeling on the floor, head down, hair dripping unscented water down her torso and temples. He raised her to her feet by means of a short leash to her collar and quickly affixed the fetters Ginny purchased. An implement of bondage. A compliment to the collar, in reddened leather. Ginny found them in a recessed corner of the store and although new, they were supremely crafted and had the feel of being old and weathered, hand stitched, and broken in. Primed for use. They felt somehow hers when she first picked them up and she cringed later when the checker scanned them, seeing their price. Mason pulled her out of the room and down a long hallway lined with portraits, busts in strange metals, and carpeted with rugs of foreign designs and exotic colors. She kept her eyes pointed down however. She felt different. Calm. She felt there was no other way she ought to be but nude, gaze down, leash leading to Mason's hand. He led her into another room which only had three cabinets and a horizontal wrought iron rod hanging above a circular rug and led her to a bin.
"Each cabinet is for a different purpose. You have five minutes to silently separate your items. I will decide their final placement after we... play." Ginny wanted desperately to tell him all the things she thought about when she purchased each item, how she had asked the sales people for help, how she had thought of him, but he said silently. Silently. She learned in the store not to second guess him and her task was complete within the alotted time. Pleased with something Mason kissed Ginny, caressing her chin, her shoulders, the small of her back. He looked at her selections and stroked his hair finally grabbing Ginny by the wrist and pulling her under the rod which hung about four feet above her head. He closed the door and behind it was a crank, which he turned until the rod lowered and he cuffed Ginny to it.
Walking up to the middle cabinet he said, "Flogger, whip, paddle..."
"Those are-"
"Shush!" he snapped. "It's obvious what you think. We'll see what they really are." He cranked the rod above her so she was standing upright flat on her feet but her arms were erect. "I think the first part of our session will focus on this cabinet here. While I myself am not prone to use such implements for punishment, I have been trained to use them for other measures. Let's see if you change your mind about your obvious assumptions." Ginny wanted desperately to protest as Mason toyed with her but she knew he wanted her quiet. He pulled out the kangaroo flogger and walked around her, swinging the falls, occasionally tapping her, brushing her, awakening her entire body, her sex, her belly. Her nipples and ass.
He started tapping harder, tapping more frequently, swinging each stroke before the previous declined in intensity for Ginny. Her head leaned into her arm, her toes squirmed. There was an unscheduled exhale but for the most part Ginny maintained her entirely unspoken oath of silence. Tap. Tapping. The taps increased in intensity until Mason stopped walking around her and focused his attention on her ass, picking up stokes faster with each swing, reddening her cheeks on her rear and moistening her brow until it all stopped at once. He stepped into her and brushed her hair aside literally breathing down her neck, running his hands along the hairless, warm red skin of her ass which only leaned out to him, wanting him to continue, but he walked away.
She heard him by the door and soon felt the rod being cranked higher until she was on her toes, straining to be somewhat comfortable. He flogged her harder and she swung in the air, completely out of control of her movements, her arms wriggling back and forth toes on their tips, feet arched at maximum stretch. He hit her once, hard and an unrehearsed, unexpected cry escaped Ginny's lungs and an unexpected, "Yes," escaped Masons. This was most certainly the voracity at which Ginny felt most stimmulated but the force with which Mason had to wail at her with his flogger began to tire his arm and finally, after a noisy period of time he returned the flogger to the cabinet and released another lever from the crank, dropping Ginny to the floor on all fours, head down not daring to look between the strands of now dried amber hair.
Before long she felt her ankles being cuffed roughly to hooks protruding up through the rug; the rod was pinned down and her neck was clipped to the rod. From this position, ass in the air, legs spread, she didn't see Mason get the paddle from the same cabinet and slipped on a vibrating glove. Kneeling silently behind her he slapped her with his bare hand and the smack reverberated out the room and down the long hallway. The novelty of the sensation shocked Ginny and she cried out with every ounce in her lungs. Mason began tapping her with the paddle lightly on her already reddened ass, increasing in intensity as he slowly massaged her with his gloved hand, the vibrations from which were excrutiatingly painful on her rear.
The glove itself was invented by a Swiss woman decades ago. She was a sexual servant of the lowest rank, with no rights, the most submissive of women. It was rumored that she was one of the original women from Washington DC to produce a child from her own ejaculate. There were no contracts back then, not even for married couples, and the men were still recovering from the Great War. She was a test subject in a laboratory and became attached to a scientist who allowed her to experiment in his workspace. She wasn't allowed to let her hands touch her pussy, so she designed a rudimentary rubber glove with pulsing beads. Her owner was so pleased with her resoursefulness he allowed her to use it. It was adapted over the years to have veins of lubricant and multiple speeds and variations, all controlled by the fingertips and all hidden in a seemingly inconspicous latex glove.
Mason's gloved hand currently wandered around to the front of Ginny's pussy and teased the piercing she got for him their first day together. His vibrating hand moved back and forth from her moistening pussy to an always freshly paddled ass. Pain was always coupled with pleasure and neither ever seemed to last long enough until Ginny felt his bare finger wandering near her ass, pressing into it, stretching her. She heard the sound of Masons zipper and before she knew it her ass was being used for his needs. Ginny immediately took the signal to relax and her entire body slumped save for her rear, which remained in the air. He paused paddling her as he slipped fingers into her gaping ass, enjoying the vibrations himself and lubricating his entrance. He watched his bulbous head stretch her opening as it moved almost all the way out and slid further in with each thrust until he was fucking her so hard he could barely here the faint noise above the resumed paddling, vibrating and slapping flesh. It was a strange noise until Mason was able to discern a simple and elongated, "Ohhhh," driveling from Ginny's lips.
His hands remained firmly deligated to her groin on one side and to paddling her rear on the other. Ginny felt as if she couldn't take any more paddling, as if she'd had enough, as if all of this, this bondage, this ass fucking, this stimmulation, and especially this paddling was too much and she began to hollar out as if she regretted everything she had done up to that point, as if she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. But suddenly there was peace. Suddenly she felt a wave of calm and all she could hear was the tap-tap-tapping of the paddle, and the she could feel the cock in her ass. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the vibrating sensation on her clit. Awareness and calm turned into peak and climax as she came, shaking in her restraints, muscles twitching, voice cracking as she hollared. Her contractions slightly tightened her everywhere and Mason came too, filling for the first time the first vessel that ever purported to be his and his alone.
As Mason sat back onto his heels his hand passed over Ginny's pussy and he examined the model of glove she chose. He noticed something very strange. There was no ejaculate. He inspected Ginny and found none.
"How do you feel right now Ginny?" he asked.
