Trust 11

He looked very displeased. And so he was. He had left her an envelope containing instructions, giving her one-week to complete her assignment. Also in the envelope was a smaller envelope that had been left blank and taped shut. She had completed her tasks, but she had opened the envelope, though he had not instructed her to.

So now she stood, shivering despite the warmth of the room. Her punishment was to be severe, if the expression on her Master’s face was any indication. He had called ahead to tell her what to wear and to tell her to be waiting in the den. The room had been deliberately left bare when she had moved in, as per his instructions. Some people might have called it a playroom, but certainly few people could have imagined exactly what kinds of games were played here.

The black material of her skirt had rustled softly about her knees before he had turned the air off, shortly after he had arrived. Her feet and calves ached somewhat from being in the tall stiletto heels she had bought some time ago, and the nylon of her pantyhose caught the skin of her legs. Though she tried to breath deeply, her chest was confined by the tight button up blouse he had instructed her to wear, and the swell of her breasts held in place by a black bra that was one cup size too small—her decision, not his. She had thought that perhaps he had been in a more playful mood, but his scowl indicated otherwise. In spite of that, however, she felt the material of her panties grow even more slick and damp than they had while she waited for him. When he had stepped into the room, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and if he had been behind her he would’ve seen the goose-bumps on the exposed flesh, as her hair was pulled up in a tight bun.

He stood before her, hands clasped behind his back, pacing. His eyes stabbed at her, harsh and angry, and his sharp pointed beard almost made him look like Satan. She knew that his simple black pullover and black pants hid a strong musculature, and she was also intimately acquainted with the sharp sting of his callused hands. Her eyes dropped from his, and before she had realized he had moved, his hand had cupped her chin, forcing her face up. His eyes bored into hers.

“Did I tell you to look down?” he demanded roughly. The grim set of his jaw startled her into closing her eyes as she fumbled for an answer. His hand descended harshly on her ass.

“No, Master,” she whispered, staring at him again.

He nodded curtly and stepped back from her again. Crossing his arms over his chest, he regarded her as a cat does another before lashing out with a paw. She quivered for a moment, wondering what he would do. Suddenly he growled, and she winced as he barked “Give me your shoes.”

She paused a moment, but one look from him and she bent to obey. She slid one shoe off and laid it on the ground. As she went to pull the other off, he appeared beside her again. He grabbed her hair and straightened her back up. When she was standing again, he hissed “I said give them to me.” After smacking her ass again, he stalked back across the room.

Fighting the urge to rub her stinging ass, she retrieved the high-heel she had already removed and carried it across the room. She held it out to him, but he simply glared at her and pointed to the floor. She bent to place it down, but she felt his fingers wrap in her hair and lift her up once more.

“Drop it,” he commanded her, and she allowed it to slip from her fingers and fall to the floor with a muted “thud.” He pushed her firmly towards the center of the room and crossed his arms.

Guessing what he had in mind, she resumed her earlier position and stooped to pull off her other shoe. She walked slowly over to her Master and allowed the shoe to drop next to the other one. The whole time, she felt his eyes boring into her, and she could feel the tension in him tonight. Though he hadn’t told specifically what this was about just yet, she knew that she would never forget the lesson he was imparting tonight.

“Bring me you pantyhose,” he ordered next. Her hands found their way underneath the hem of her skirt and into the waistband of her panty hose. Knowing that he was watching her every move made her feel self-conscious, and the embarrassment she felt was obvious in the flush on her cheeks. The fact that she was only growing wetter added to her embarrassment, as did the knowledge that he would be able to smell her arousal on her panty hose. As if he didn’t already know.

After depositing her pantyhose at his feet, she returned to the middle of the room to await his next order. Her panties went next, followed by her blouse. Her skirt was delivered to him afterwards, and her bra fell to the floor last. Her bare pussy was red and swollen, with a telltale glistening between the lips that had already begun to spread to her thighs.

A muffled “thump” startled her, and she looked at the floor by her feet. One of her leather collars, the one with the D-ring that was reserved for the rough play, lay near her left foot. At first, she looked up at him questioningly, but his glower said all she needed to know. Soon, the leather was firmly wrapped about her neck, and the metal buckle was fastened. A lock landed near her foot.

“Lock it.” She did.

A pair of thigh high stockings that had been rolled into a ball landed at her feet. Without a word, she unrolled them and pulled them on. Two black shoes with six-inch stiletto heels landed, one after the other, by her feet. Soon, she had slipped them onto her feet, and was fastening the odd buckles on them. A pair of small locks clinked together and bounced off the souls of the shoes.

“Lock them.” She did.

To her great surprise, a ball gag landed next. They had never used a gag before, and she was actually grateful for that, as they appeared rather uncomfortable. Secretly, though, she hoped that someday he would try it; the idea of not even being able to beg him not to do something, no matter how much she hated it, actually excited her. A thin trickle escaped from her pussy as she picked it up.

“I’m waiting…,” he said harshly. Quickly, she placed the ball between her teeth and wrapped the leather strap around her cheeks and neck. After she had fastened the buckle, another small lock landed near her toe.

“Lock it.” She did.

Metal clinking preceded the arrival of a pair of handcuffs. “Lock one cuff around your wrist, and leave the other open.” Knowing better than to upset him more, she obeyed.

A thick black blindfold fluttered to her feet next. The portion that covered her eyes was made of thick black cotton, and a leather strap extended from either end, ending in a metal buckle. Barely able to suppress a shudder as she felt herself grow even wetter, she stooped and picked up the cotton and leather blindfold. The last vision she had was of her Master waiting impatiently. Then her eyes closed, and all was black.

She felt something pressed into her hand. Manipulating it with her fingers, she discovered it was yet another small lock.

“Lock it.” She did.

“Place your wrists behind your back and lock the other cuff.” She did.

Now she stood in a pair of thigh high stockings, locked into a pair of stiletto heels that were so high she could barely walk. To make matters worse for her, her hands were cuffed behind her back, she was blindfolded, and there was a gag in her mouth. And she liked it. Few of her friends had any idea that she was into this kind of stuff. She had never been able to explain to her friends what it was about being tied up. To her, it was a thrill like no other to be tied up, locked down, or simply ordered around. Giving up the control she exerted on the other aspects of her life gave a freedom to explore and enjoy this part of her sexuality with virtually no guilt, and to truly be pushed to, and frequently past, her limits. Part of the excitement, she supposed, came from being “forced” into things—being with someone so powerful that he could dominate her just really did it for her. The thrill of the unknown was also a large part of it, as well. But this was new territory for her, and she could feel the anticipation mingling with her arousal, along with a bit of fear. Fear, however, often added an additional element of excitement.

She felt some kind of mask being pulled over her head and face. The cool leather fitted tightly over her cheeks and pressed the blindfold against her eyelids harder, as well as wedged the gag slightly farther between her teeth, while also forcing her mouth to close over it. Her ears were covered as well, depriving her of the ability to hear. Her hair was tugged less than gently as her bun was guided through an opening in the back of the leather device. Now the only thing left uncovered, other than her hair, were her nostrils, so she could breathe. A zipper was pulled up the back of the mask, and when an additional weight was added, she knew he had locked it as well.

When he tugged the D-ring on the front of the collar, she almost lost her balance and fell forward before she started following his lead. He led her a short distance before pulling her towards the ground. She bent her knees and kneeled, but he continued to pull, so she bent at the waist as well, putting her cheek against the carpet. When she felt his hands release her collar, she tried to straighten up, but found that her collar had been secured to the floor. Belatedly, she remembered that he had installed several anchors in the floor, and had clasps that locked into the anchors. She felt her legs being spread, and small loops were secured around her ankles before they were locked down as well. Somehow she knew that he was standing back, enjoying the view of her ass high in the air and her legs spread, leaving her exposed for whatever he had in store for her.

A sudden sting on her ass startled her, and she tried to jerk, but couldn’t. Another swat fell, followed by several more. Soon, she was unable to count them, and her ass was hot and stinging and sore. If she could have spoken, she would have begged him to stop, and she could feel the hot tears trapped behind the blindfold. She screamed into the gag, more in frustration than in pain, but the gag worked remarkably well, and the mask muffled what little escaped. The spanking continued, with each swat coming from a different angle, leaving every bit of her ass red and hot, from the top of her cheeks, to the gentle curve where her legs met her butt, and even the top of her thighs. She winced and struggled more when a swat landed on the inside of her cheek, near her asshole. Finally, the spanking mercifully stopped. Chagrined, she felt the moisture leaking down her thighs, almost as though her pussy was weeping from the spanking like her eyes were.

She jerked again and screamed into the gag as an amazing coldness came upon her. She could only guess what he was doing, but it felt suspiciously like a piece of ice was traveling up the inside of her thigh, drawing dangerously close to her sensitive lips. Thankfully, it pulled away just in time, only to touch her other leg and travel closer and closer to her spread quim. Whatever it was, it was so close to her pussy that she could feel the coldness on her clit, though it hadn’t touched her there yet. And then it did. She bit the gag and clenched her thighs, but to no avail; the locks held firm and her legs remained spread. The cold thing touched and then traced her lips before slowly sliding deep into her, each inch as chilling cold as the first. She shivered and strained and moaned and wanted to beg him to stop, but she could do nothing but feel the cold penetrate her. Despite the almost painful cold, the sensation was amazing, and despite everything, she felt the excitement build in her. As the frozen object continued moving inside of her, she began to breathe deeply, her breasts swaying underneath of her and brushing her nipples against the carpet as she was penetrated. And then it was gone, leaving her frustrated and with an unusual and arousing cold sensation inside of her.

Time passed, but she had no idea how much. It might have been a few seconds, but it could have been as long as several minutes. Having been deprived of most of her senses, her nose and skin had become hypersensitive, especially her ass, which still burned from the ferocious spanking she had endured. As the time continued to creep by, she focused more on those two senses, trying to get a picture of what was happening. Her nipples felt the carpet underneath them, the nap rubbing her nipples and keeping them painfully hard and swollen. The skin of her ass and thighs burned, and even the warm, stale air of the room felt cool in comparison. She could smell the leather of the mask, the fabric of the carpet, her sweat, and even her own arousal. No vibrations came through the floor, but her Master walked with feather soft steps, and delighted in creeping up on her even when she wasn’t bound and at his complete mercy.

Mercy. She laughed silently to herself as she thought about that. She was at his mercy. Wryly, she reminded herself that he had none, especially when he felt she deserved to be punished. No, she was not at his mercy. She was under his complete control, dominated and forced to do as he wished. To the outside world she always appeared to be fiercely independent, forging her own path and bowing to no one. Yet here she was, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and subjugated to her Master. Of her own free will, yet. And he had told her to do it to herself, and she had complied. Thinking back on that, she realized that her surrender to him was so complete that she had willing and deliberately placed herself under his complete control, both physically and mentally. If he told her to do anything, there was little doubt in her mind that she would, simply because he was her Master. The humiliation she was suffering from this only added to her torment, and she screamed into her gag to know why she did this to herself, how she could possibly allow this, much less crave the depraved actions born of his mind. As her clitoris throbbed and ass burned and tears flowed into the mask, she remembered: she trusted him and loved him like no other.

Her mental wandering ceased quickly as she felt a cool finger at her anus, but the warmth she felt inside of her remained: she trusted him, and he would never violate that trust. He only did this because she loved the sensation of surrender, craved the way she felt when she could not fight back, and wanted only more of this treatment. He loved her, and indulged her, but he also punished her because that is what she so desperately wanted: to be given everything she wanted and yet to have no control. She loved to be indulged, to be spoiled, but she also loved the punishment when she had gone too far. In this, their relationship became very complicated. They were lovers and best friends, intimate both physically and emotionally. They kept each other’s secrets and guarded each other’s backs. She was the loving girlfriend and the spoiled child; he was the provider and the disciplinarian. It was as simple and as complicated as all of that.

The finger at her anus distracted her. She loved anal play, especially when she had been a bad girl and needed to be punished. Something about being violated in such a way mad her feel dirty and bad, and that was when she came the hardest. Many times in the past she had pushed him, deliberately provoking him to just so he would punish her and force his fingers or his cock into her most private opening. He had bought her a butt plug and announced his intention to train his pet in its use, and had made good on his promise. The odd shaped object felt alien inside of her, but the sensation of being over-filled and still held open was amazing, and when he spanked her after inserting it, the vibrations traveled deep inside of her, causing her to orgasm just from being spanked. Once, he had fucked her pussy while the plug filled her rectum, and the tightness of her cunt and the stretched feeling in her ass gave her an orgasm like she had only dreamed about.

Something cool and slick was on his finger, and she knew he was lubing her ring. She felt his other hand at the top of her ass, holding her cheeks apart. The heat from his hand seared her fiery skin, but there was something odd: she couldn’t feel his skin. His hand was smooth and her skin stuck to it slightly, almost like he was wearing a glove. He had worn latex gloves before when he fingered her ass for long periods of time—he said it made clean up easier and that she was less likely to have any tearing from his fingernails. The finger at her anus began to make small circles, and her pussy leaked even more as she felt the cool lube being spread around her sphincter. He pushed in some, twisting his finger, coating the inside of her asshole with the lube before withdrawing. His finger was back again soon, however, pushing a glob of lube inside her, spreading it around, the coolness covering her insides. Again and again he pushed a single finger inside of her, adding more lubricant each time, and pushing deeper with each return, ensuring that she was ready for him. Her breath became ragged, and her nipples brushed the carpet again and again. The anticipation heightened the experience for her; would he fuck her ass, push the plug deep inside of her, or simply finger unceasingly, until she passed out? He had done all of those before, but each time was different, and she was always at a loss as to what she should expect.

A second finger joined the first, pushing in and out of her rhythmically, stretching her slightly. The fingers twisted inside of her before plunging deeper. Again she moaned into her gag, her tongue pushing at the saliva covered rubber, trying to vocalize something, though she knew not what. The two fingers retreated eventually, leaving her feeling empty. As her breath returned to normal and her body ceased its spasms, he pushed three fingers inside of her, deeply and without warning. She bit the gag, grateful this time that it wasn’t her tongue. Her felt him probe her deeply, twisting his fingers, pulling out some before plunging deeply into her ass. He tensed his finger and then wriggled them inside of her, and then spread them wide, forcing her asshole to open more. His fingers curved and pressed towards her twat, rubbing the thin wall that separated one from the other, stimulating her G-spot from this different angle. Suddenly, his fingers rotated and raked the top of rectum, pulling out, causing her sphincter to stretch more, but in a different direction. Her body shook, and he suddenly forced his fingers deep into her again. He continued to torment her like this, pausing each time she was near orgasm, teasing her. It was almost like he was holding her orgasm just within her reach and then snatching it back again, taking immense pleasure in making her reach and jump for it, only to have it snatched away when she was sure it was hers at last.

The fingers retreated again, and she cursed him and wept again, though it was muffled by the gag and mask. Her ass was sore and stretched, and now it felt empty, and she was so near orgasm that it was painful. She shook as she cried and moaned in vain, wondering when—if—he would allow her to cum.

A pressure against her ass brought back the possibility of release, and she tried to push onto his invading digits, but he swatted her exposed pussy lips and pushed her away. Whimpering, she held still, the stinging of her lips a painful reminder of what was so tantalizingly close, but so agonizingly far away. The pressure against her anus returned, mercifully, but this time she held still, biting the gag with all her might, forcing herself not to do anything that would deny her the release she needed so bad. He pushed past her stretched sphincter, one, two, three fingers. That was all she had ever taken in the ass: three fingers. Her butt-plug training had only needed to go that far before she could accept the toy. Now, however, he forced a fourth finger into her ass, and she felt her ears begin to ring as she was stretched even more. Whimpering and moaning as her eyes teared, she tried to shake her head, but he grabbed her bun and forced her to stop just as he rammed the fourth finger into her well lubed and already crowded rectum. The pain was temporary; it vanished almost instantly, and she reveled in the indescribable pleasure of being filled past capacity and pushed, once again, past her limits. He fucked her ass with his fingers with long, deep strokes, and she felt as though he had almost touched the core of her physical being.