People have asked me, recently, what's going on between Theora and me. Of course I play innocent and suggest that they ask her. The glances; the looks; and the expressions between us expose that we are hiding a secret. It is a secret that would be particularly embarrassing to Theora if it was ever discovered. However, where I am concerned our secret is as carefully tucked away as the pictures I took of us. Exposing me would mean exposing herself. I know she could never do that, which is what made her the perfect victim.
The reasons for singling Theora out are obvious. She's beautiful, she's quiet, and she's always around. She has this perky, innocent smile that always lights up a room. Something about that innocent smile made me want to soil that innocence. If that sounds evil, then perhaps I am evil. I won't pretend to be otherwise. Those conservative cloths she wears hide a body built for sex. Her breasts are firm. She is well proportioned; neither top heavy nor bottom heavy. She's the one who politely steps to the side to let you pass when you meet in a narrow hallway. What she sees as polite, I see as submissive.
The first part of my plan was the set-up. This required getting accomplices who could react on short notice, and who were willing to share their schedules with me so I could get the maximum amount of volunteers. It isn't easy coordinating a number of people to be at a given place at a given time...maybe. This took a couple of weeks, but it had the added advantage of having the list solidified in case I needed to use them again, which I most likely will do. I tend to get bored easily. The second part of the plan was to get Theora over to my place. This would not be difficult since all I had to do was to say that I needed her help with a project and Theora would be there to help. Her ever present smile and her gregarious nature played to my advantage. I pre-programmed a text message in my phone to the group so they would know when they were needed. All was working well.
I told Theora that I was re-designing my basement and that I wanted her advice. She was all too willing to help, since I didn't live far from work and since she considered me a friend. She didn't even know how good a friend I was. I was about to liberate her from the oppressive chains of sexual inhibition. We drove in my car which is a rather plain looking 2004 Taurus. Of course I was most gracious and polite. I let her pick the radio station, even though I didn't spend six grand on an audio system to listen to country music. I complimented her on her black dress, which I intended to very soon be on my floor. We even talked a little bit about the guys we both knew. Theora likes guys, as do I. I'm just not limited to the opposite sex when it comes to sexual expression. I try not to have any limits.
My home was a rather nondescript looking single floor ranch house on the end of a cul-de-sac. The driveway made two turns before leading to the two car garage, which attached at the side. The single story brick house was nestled in a nice grove of trees which offered quiet solitude and yet was not far from the business park. When my grandfather owned it, this was a farm. My father turned it into a subdivision. For me it was my private paradise. And best of all, there was no mortgage. Thanks, Dad.
I showed her around the inside of the house which was already partially remodeled. When we walked into the basement I let her go first. That way she wouldn't see that there are only knobs on one side. The other side opens by a key, which I had with me. There is a door at the top of the stairs and one at the bottom. She walked through the bottom door and stopped, looking the place over. I had the block walls lined with cut stone, and I even had stone put on the back side of the door. I replaced all the lights with wall lights which were made to look like they were torches. I mounted manacles to the wall, mounted a St. Andrew's cross at either end, and lined the back wall with several medieval looking beds with hoops for rope bondage. The floor was my masterpiece. It had gym mats coated to look granite slabs. It took me all summer to complete my dungeon, but now here it was, awaiting its first victim; a raven haired beauty who had willing walked into what had to be a BDSM enthusiasts dream.
I could see her jaw drop as she took it all in. I tried to maintain my cool to the best of my ability, but as soon as I closed the door my heart was racing. She was obviously out of her element here and I could tell she was more than a little nervous. I loved the feelings; both mine and hers. Was I up to this? If it went wrong, I was looking at felony charges. Could I really pull this off? I had to put her at ease and get her defenses down. I had to calm down myself or I was going to blow my chance.
"I put about twenty grand into this altogether," I told her. "Do you know what I could rent this for? Five hundred a night. A thousand a weekend. More if I had a good bar. I just don't know where to put it to not ruin the atmosphere." I walked past her toward the other end of the basement, pretending to be lost and pretending to need her advice. What I needed was her sweet body. "What do you think? Here? It's close to the breaker box and we could put the coolers underneath to keep the look?"
The numbers impressed her. Of course...I just made them up. I had no intention of renting my property. It's not that I couldn't use the money. If I didn't need money I wouldn't be working. I just don't want to share my dungeon with strangers. Theora began to relax as we talked about the bar and other changes or additions we could make. Too lighten the mood, I tossed her a riding crop and challenged her to a fencing duel. We were both laughed and we were having a great time in the dungeon.
When she was more relaxed, I handed her my digital camera, I took off my top, put on a hood and backed up to one of the crosses. I positioned my wrists by the straps and asked her to take my picture. She agreed willingly. Theora was a lot more hesitant when I said I wanted her picture, but the hood would cover her face. All anyone would see would be her luscious tits. I could tell she wanted a picture too, but she would only let me take it with her phone. That was certainly all right with me; for now.
She finally took off her top and backed up to the cross. "Wait. This looks hokey," I said to her. I walked back to her and quickly secured her wrists with the Velcro cuffs. I then stepped back and took a couple of pictures with her phone. "Perfect," I said to her. "Let me get your backside." I unfastened the cuffs and she turned around, moving into position for me. This was too good to be true. Of course, why SHOULDN'T she trust me? I was such a dear friend. I snapped a couple of pictures and then unhooked her skirt and let it drop.
"Okay, let me out," she said under the hood. "I never said you could do panty shots."
"That's true," I said. "No panty shots." I reached over and yanked them down. She screamed at me and struggled to keep them on, but with her hands tied to the cross she couldn't do much. I put a set of cuffs around her ankles and then pulled them to the legs of the cross. For this she cussed me out very loudly. I didn't care. Nobody could hear us. I took a couple more pictures with her phone and then switched to my camera for better quality. Then I walked over to her and removed the hood. I didn't need it any more.
"You know, a lady should never use such profanity," I told her as I walked to an implement rack that I know she can see. I take down a thick leather paddle and start to walk back to her. You know you're going to have to be punished for that, right?"
She told me I'd better not DARE hit her with that paddle. She threatened me with everything from prison to dismemberment. I replied with a stinging WHACK to the sensitive underside of her ass; in the "sweet spot." Subsequent strikes changed her threats to cries of pain and whimpering pleas to be released.
I was never much into whips and chains, but a good hard spanking never hurt anyone. Much. I didn't want to cause injury so I never hit her incredibly hard, but my strikes were firm and it was a nice long spanking. I needed to impress upon her that we had a simple chain of command. I was in command, and she was in chains. I spread the blows out enough to give her ass a nice uniform red glow. I knew it burned like hell. The tears in her eyes were real, but this wasn't something you could do part way. Either completely break their spirit or don't even try. She wasn't going anywhere and I was going to spank her ass until I decided to quit. One strike with a leather paddle can make your eyes water. Five can make your ass feel like it's on fire. Theora got twenty. She was reluctant at first to proclaim that I was now her master, but eventually she gave in. She would have said anything to get the spanking to stop.
Of course, pain was only the first part of the equation. You can't have pain without pleasure, otherwise you don't have domination you have abuse. So as she was more or less hanging off the cross, I sent off the text message I had prepared to the people I knew to be free at that time. I then slid to my knees under her. I pulled her hips back and rested my head against the back of the cross, which enabled me to lick her pussy while I rubbed the burn into her ass. I knew she was going to be wet, and I was not disappointed. She moaned in both pain and pleasure as I slowly ran my tongue along the length of her opening. I then dragged the moisture over her clit. I could feel her body tremble at the sensation. Her mouth was pleading with me to stop, but her body wanted more. It was her body's cries that I heeded.
