3 comments/ 17939 views/ 0 favorites Box Lunch Ch. 01 By: arbenitre When she got the box at work, by messenger, she couldn't help the smile that played at her lips. It appeared to be just a normal delivery by courier, much like any other that she would get three or four times a week. Normally these boxes would contain checks or some essential paper to the business that she managed the office for, and to the other office personnel, that's what it looked to contain. It was only her practiced eye that saw the difference. It occurred to her that he was counting on that. First of all, the company only used one courier and this one wasn't it. Secondly, anyone could sign and leave it on her desk, but for this package, she had to sign personally. They came and pulled her out of a meeting for it. It had an invoice on the front that proclaimed "Contains instructions for delivery and claims. Open First." She tried to appear nonchalant carrying the package to her desk, even as she felt her knees shake and a trickle of wet moving down her thigh. Setting the package just at the side of the center of her desk was the hardest thing she had done all week. The urge to run into her office, close and lock the door and tear it open was so compelling, she still can't believe she actually made it look like just another set of papers from the main office. She wanted to at least arrange it on her desk, just so. Square it up to the blotter and work it around like a meal she's been waiting on. She had no idea what was in it, but just that it was from "him" was enough to make her want to rip the cardboard apart with her back to the door and her chest heaving. She was able to close and lock the door without suspicion, but now she was impatient over this meeting. Already thinking it had gone on too long before she had opened the door. She worked hard to compose herself. It takes longer than ten minutes to decide a multi million dollar budget. She walked in and sat back down in her spot, acutely aware that her panties had somehow become soaked in just those few short minutes since she last sat in this chair. It was funny that she could only think "I hope I don't leave an obvious spot". She had an urge to giggle. She might not have any idea what was in that box, but getting something like that from him meant she was going to cum harder than she'd ever cum before – and that was true every time – and it was going to be something that would make her shaky and smiley for days if not weeks. Her officemates spent a bit of time trying to figure her relationship out, but this just wasn't available for their consumption. They wondered, she knew. Maybe even thought she was getting beat. There were just too many bruises and too many abrasions. The times her wrists had the rope burns and she couldn't stay seated all day. The times with bruises she hadn't realized she had until she got to work in the wrong clothes. She knew better now than to wear anything showing cleavage after one of these sessions. There was still talk about her cat scratching her up so bad. She could feel the moisture starting to pool under her ass. "These panties are a complete waste", she thought, just as she noticed everyone looking at her. Obviously she'd been asked a question and had no clue what it was or how to respond. He always did this to her. Got her all worked up so she couldn't pay attention if her job depended on it. She looked down and shuffled her paperwork, but it was no use. She was going to have to tell everyone she wasn't paying attention. "I'm not sure I have that," she said to stall. It worked! At least this time. Her counterpart at main suddenly remembered she hadn't sent it. The paper got passed over and she was able to work her way through the problem before her mind strayed back to the desk and her package. She hadn't even known what a quirt was before the last package yielded one up into her hands. She knows he sends them to her work to give her that little bit of extra anxiety and discomfort. Makes her have to be furtive and reminds her of the distance between the vanilla world and her path of submission. The distance that grew with every package. She managed to join the conversation just a moment before it turned to her part and this time she actually heard what they needed from her and could respond. That was close. Try as she might, she already knew she wouldn't be able to stop her mind and she had stopped trying to a long time ago now. He was in total control of whether she would be able to have attention left for her job or not. She was barely hanging on right now and at any time he might call or send her something else that'll make her lose it completely. She was getting the feeling of being in a wading pool and sitting on the top step. It was moist all the time, but every now and then a wave would push up between her knees, splash against her pussy and gush out to mingle with the fluids collected under her bottom. The thought of the quirt was making her quiver. She'd had to smuggle it out in her purse after taking peeks at it all day. It looked so evil and yet so innocent, she could barely put it down. She kept taking it up and holding it in her hands whenever she had a moment through that day. The leather was smooth and yet the braiding was almost rough. It had certainly looked rough! The strands would hang down like some miniature medieval whip every time she would pick it up and then would lay splayed out when she would set it down onto her desk. There was a loop to hold it to the wrist with a bead on the end of that. When she had first picked it up, she immediately thought she would be whipped with the bead and had almost cried with the thought that she wouldn't be able to do it. As she looked at it over and over during the day, however, she realized that it was just the straps that she would be spanked with (she knew that much for sure, that it was for her flesh). That didn't help a lot with the trepidation she felt, but at least it wouldn't be something that would scar her. The whippings still frightened her. Not the actual smack of leather, that could soak her panties even more than they were now just knowing it was coming, but the way she craved it. The way her body responded even as or even if her mind resisted. The first time he'd spanked her, she knew she wanted it but it had still left her uncertain about herself. He'd really paddled her, too. Left her red, hot and sore. Sitting on her ass all the next week had made her wet and dreamy. Her first whipping was absolute heaven. She was sucking him, stroking his long cock with her mouth, bathing it with her saliva when the lashes struck her full across one buttock. It was a stinging, slapping feeling and made her shove his rod into her throat, she'd jumped so hard. As more and more lashes struck, she was positively gobbling at his dong and he was loving it! A few weeks later he'd sent her the quirt. He's shattered all her boundaries. She tried to maintain them every step of the way, but he would push a little here and there until she found herself so far out beyond where she believed herself that she had to finally succumb. And he knew when this moment was. He told her that night "you'll do what you're told now." It was a bit at a time. She can't fault him. He'd told her from the beginning how he would make her a "good little sub". How he was patient and moulding, but that she would get there in the end. She would be that submissive that she denied vehemently. The quirt was almost the last straw. She fretted and debated. She worried and countless times made up her mind never. One of the times she had decided that she wouldn't do it, almost as though he'd read her mind, he called. In a gentle, friendly voice, he'd described how it would feel to her and how he would use it. How it would cut into her tender flesh and leave streaks of red that he could trace with his fingers as he fucked her, no pounded her from behind. That had made her panic. In the end, it was her dripping pussy that set her in the driver's seat on her way to him with the quirt in her purse. And they say men think with their dicks. Those first lashes from those braided leather straps had bit into her flesh, just like he had told her, and she had jumped with fright, but it was already too late as she strained against the bindings with each jolt. He whipped her ass as she begged for more and the thin strips stung her breasts as he drove his piece so forcefully into her pussy from behind that he could have whipped her with razors and she wouldn't have noticed. Her sore little ass being spanked by his groin as he rammed that beautiful cock into her sodden pussy stayed in her thoughts for weeks afterwards. Left her reeling. She would often find herself, just as now, daydreaming about the whippings, the fuckings, the tortures he subjected her to on an ongoing basis. It was a struggle to maintain connection to all these plain people with their flavorless lives. She would float off into that world that he'd taken her to where she had no idea of pleasure or pain or time. Only the next sensation. The next incredible, consuming orgasm. The next feeling of utter lostness he'll give her. She had no doubt that that package contained a mind numbing adventure. Another bigger drug to feed her addiction for him. She stretched her legs a little, just to check whether the muscles were still sore. It had been three days, but she was often sore for five or more. This time, there was a little tinge of memory stiffness, but nothing more. A mischievous grin forced its way past her stoic face and she quickly tried to hide it. She had never been so much out of control as he has made her. She forced her mind back to pay attention to the stupid pitiful fucking meeting and again it was just in time to say her part. When the meeting finally ended, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. They were making plans for lunch and were including her and all she could say was "just let me know, I've got to go get this package taken care of." Her hands shook as she unlocked her door and she dropped the keys trying to lock it back from the inside. She took some steadying breaths with her back against the door and could feel the wetness flowing past her pussy lips, dripping along her thighs and past her knees. She knew she didn't have much time and hurried over to tear the package open. Her hands wouldn't work right and the cardboard ended up being shredded since it wouldn't tear on the seams. "Fucking thing," she thought as she tore at it desperately. Three months ago, had she seen this scene in a movie, she would have scoffed. She would never have believed that it was vaguely realistic. Yet here she was. Frustrated. Desperate. Needy. Dripping and aching. Her pussy was sending ache throbs ripping through her body. They would start at her groin and thrum through her stomach, jolting her nipples and chest and trying to push a moan out through her throat. It was making her hands tremor out of control and she dropped the package out onto the floor. An egg shaped object rolled under her desk. Panties and half bra fluttered in a heap. Two large marbles tied together, two silk ties and some sports wrap. She didn't have much time to look at the objects before she heard someone outside the door. She grabbed at everything and stuffed it in her purse as the knob turned. She was leaping out from the desk with the tap and opened the door, hoping she didn't look as breathless and flustered as she felt. "We're leaving in ten minutes, going to Roscoe's. Are you about ready?", then "are you okay?" She realized she must be as flushed as she felt. The burning was all over her chest and neck, and now she felt it stinging her cheeks. "I'm okay, just trying to get everything done I need before we head out. Let me put things away and run to the bathroom real quick." "I'll meet you at the car." Her boss looked at her funny and glanced around the room before walking off. Too late, she realized the chunks she'd torn out of the box were strewn around the floor and on the desk. She grabbed at them and threw them into the trash can, liberating the "invoice" from the mess first. She stuffed it in her purse and took off for the ladies room. She was beet red. The mirror told her why her boss had given that funny look. The redness spread in a lightening wave right down between her breasts. She knew before unfolding it that the instruction page wasn't going to make that situation any better. She was going to be flushed the rest of the day. "You have a two o'clock meeting. Insert the balls before going. There are tiny ones inside the outer shells and if you squirm, the inner ones will roll and give continuous sensation. Sudden movements will shake them and constant movement will keep them active. You will probably want gentle, easy motions or you will become over sensitized." She pulled them out and looked at them. They had a funny texture to them and as she shook one, she could feel the bounce and activity. A synergy. It made her shiver. A full body, down the spine and back shiver. "You can take the balls out after the two o'clock, if you want. We will be meeting at four. You will leave early. We will have an early supper. You will put on the underwear and re-insert the balls if you took them out earlier. You will carry the nipple rings, ties, wrap and egg in your purse. I will be checking that you have done everything I asked." She dug through her purse. She didn't remember seeing nipple rings. She was getting frantic when she decided to go back to look around her desk. Her breathing was heavy and tense. She was practically gasping. She took some steadying breaths and smoothed her clothes to run back to her office and look for the rings. One was just on the center of her desk. A black rubber ring, small and innocent appearing, but she knew better. That little creature made her nipple stand out so hard she had a wave of wetness run down her legs just thinking of it. Another shiver wracked her. She was so worked up over this she considered that she might cum just seeing him and her ankles wobbled. She couldn't find the other ring. She had to go meet her boss at the car. Her panties were soaked so thoroughly that she felt like she could wring them out and water her plants. She pulled them off, stuffed them in a drawer and pulled the others on, realizing too late that they were crotchless. "Oh well," she thought and left the room. The elevator showed her reflection in the chrome. She was flushed over her entire upper body, her breath was ragged and her chest was heaving. Another shiver wracked her as she knew she would have to search with a fine tooth comb – and quickly - when she got back. She briefly wondered about this two o'clock and how he knew. Lunch was FOREVER. She never realized what dithering slathering blibbering fools she worked with. She needed to get back and find that nipple ring. She needed to get the balls in by two. She needed to relax and try to get some sanity before meeting him at four. Her mind kept shooting off to her next orgasm and how it would feel. The last one completely took her. She'd never felt anything like it. She was still trying to decide if those had been spears of agony or if the pleasure could really be that intense. It was twenty to two when they got back from the longest lunch she'd ever had. She hadn't been able to do more than push her food around the plate. Her boss said "remember, my office, two o'clock" at the elevators. She didn't trust herself to speak, just nodded vigorously. She couldn't find the little ring of rubber. She was crawling under her desk, shoving things out of the way. The receptionist asked if she could help and she snapped "no" so fast, she had to quickly tell her "it's okay, just an earring, I'll find it." At five to two, she closed her door, pressed her fingers to her dripping pussy and slipped the balls inside one by one. Her digits were drenched with that little bit, all the way to the hand. Drips splattered the carpet and caught on the smooth skin of her calves. She rushed out to the meetings and paused only long enough to catch her breath and feel her racing pulse before knocking. "Come in." It was him. Her boss had said come in, but He was there. She went so weak, it took everything she had to turn, close the door and work her way toward the only empty chair in the room. Her movements were jerky and dissociated from her mind's whirling, but she managed to collapse to the cushion. A gush of warmth greeted her change of posture. "Are you okay?" He asked in that gentle voice that to her meant torment. It was the voice that told her "don't cum. If you do it will be your last for several days." And "you will need to beg me for what you want." And "if you want the reward for being good, you will need to do what I consider good." A sweet, modulated, reasonable timbre that she now associated with ache, need, desire, frustration, desperation and, eventually, when she's good enough, utter unadulterated bliss. The gushing became a flood that held no promise of letting up. The balls were keeping a rocking kind of motion that was making her thigh muscles shimmer and the only point of direction she had was his voice. This is what he had done to her from the beginning. He would calmly describe the process as he stimulated her. It was a simple conditioning at first, "don't cum yet, hold it, I want you to cum when I do". It increased in intensity until, after four months now, she could be reduced to a whimpering, pleading mass with the pressing of his words against her ears. She felt a drip on her ankle from off the edge of the chair. "So what do you think?" It was her boss. She knew it would be something about software. That's what He did. He sold security software. She nodded, trying to speak, but no words came out. She closed her mouth, afraid she might croak. "You know, you don't look well. Are you okay?" She wished everyone would stop asking her that. Everyone but Him. She nodded and managed to get out "I'm alright. Just tired, I guess. I think we could try it." She'd been offering to pitch His software to the boss for some time. "Well there you go." Her boss waved an arm. "Got you in touch with the one you need." She'll show you the servers and go through specifics with you. They got up and shook hands, leaving her sitting until she had to move. She led him to the server room first. As they stepped over the threshold, he closed the door behind them and grabbed her ass. The balls leaped and another flood poured forth with her gasp. He spoke to her softly. "I love the thought of your stiff nipples. I want to roll my tongue over them and suck at them. I want to pinch them with my cock shoving up between your tits, fucking them. I can't wait to grab at them, nibble, bite and suck them. I think I'm going to tie you to the bed so you can't move and slide my cock from the tip to the base and back over those nipples. One at a time. Slowly fucking across them while I squeeze your breasts in my hands and make them pop out even more. I'm going to set my cock just out of your reach so you have to stretch your neck up and over to just lick at it. Once in a while I'll run it over your pussy lips so you can lick the dripping juices from it. With your neck stretched out, I'll whip your tits until they're hot and swollen. Then I'll fuck you - hard. My hands soothing your aching breasts. My cock ramming in and out of you, making you cum and beg for more. That's what you have to look forward to." He took her around the waist and she half swooned. One hand held her while the other bunched her dress and pressed its way in the side of her panties, shoving a finger up inside her and making her cry out through clenched lips. "Just checking. You are a good girl for me, but I have to make certain or you might backslide." She whimpered as he removed the hand. Box Lunch Ch. 01 He turned her back to the door and swatted her ass, making the balls in her pussy leap, bounce and rebound. She stifled another cry, but barely as the door opened. "How about I come get it all installed on a Saturday?", he asked out loud. "You can check your calendar and get back to me. I'm available whatever Saturday you want." He smiled at her, a knowing, gloating smile, "you can surprise me." He walked out, leaving her standing confused, lost and dazed. Until she remembered the ring. The clock already read 2:50 and she shuddered to think what she would suffer if she failed to find the ring and be at the restaurant by 4. The jerky movements of her panicked state were making the balls jiggle and bounce which increased her sense of confusion and sent her into more panic. She knew why he did this to her and how. She even knew that he would take every opportunity to do it. It drove her mad that she had no way to stop it, slow it down or in any other way control her reactions. She reached her office and imagined seeing a trail of her juices across the carpet. At twenty to four, she was about to give up her search and take the punishment when she found the ring. A sense of relief and accomplishment flooded her more completely than the flow of sensation ringing through her with every sudden movement. She bit back tears at her success, grabbed her things and hurried out. She got there at the exact stroke of four. He was waiting. She parked, walked over and got into his car, sliding into the seat gingerly as the balls were making their presence known. She'd been in such a panic, it was all starting to catch up to her. They were bounding and straining her muscles and she was feeling a dull constant ache from them that promised only agony if she wasn't more careful. "Hi. Hope your day went well." He said as though he knew what she'd been going through. He kissed her, making her flood again and as they broke apart he asked if she had everything. She could only nod, afraid she would burst into tears if she spoke out loud. Mad at herself, not only because this was a sure way to stir him to make her talk, but she also hated the tears, they made her feel so helpless. He let it slide this time and held out his hand. She had everything right where she could get to it, pulling out the egg first. He stopped her there. "Keep the rings for a bit." Just as in the server room, his hand bunched her dress, slid to her panties, hesitated as it recognized them and pushed the egg through the opening in the panties and into her sodden, swollen lips in one fluid movement. She jumped, bit her lip and shook her head violently as his thumb intentionally swept across her clit. When his hand withdrew, she released her breath with a laden, shuddering gasp. He stepped out of the car, helped her out her door and led her into the restaurant vestibule. They ordered only dessert. Sometimes they would do that here. Mostly because the food was so heavy, but sometimes because they were in a hurry. This time, she couldn't have eaten if he pushed food into her mouth with his cock. Her throat was raw from being closed off, her entire body was shimmering with anxiety, anticipation, excitement and trepidation. She was completely electric and wondered that she might turn into pure spirit or spontaneously combust before getting the orgasm he was working her toward. He ordered a cognac and she a wine. He brought a plastic piece out of his pocket and toyed with it briefly. She wasn't looking him in the eye yet, but as the object moved through his fingers, she naturally followed its progress. When the motion stopped, he flicked it casually and she burst apart. She couldn't even gasp, the feeling was so intense. He flicked the vibrator (she knew now that's what that egg was) back off and she collapsed to the table gasping. He stroked her hair and crooned to her softly. "That's my good little girl. Pretty little sub." He kissed her neck and she recovered enough to sit up and be better prepared for it next time. Being ready didn't help that much when the next wave came. She at least didn't cry out or faint, but she couldn't stop the whimper. "Isn't that a great little toy?" He asked. She didn't trust herself to answer. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she couldn't help it. It was adding to her frustration and anxiety that she was so completely incapable of doing the things he had always demanded from her and had even threatened to punish her for if she failed to do them. Things like answering his questions and stating what she wanted, even begging if he wished her to. It had always been easy before to comply because she truly wanted to and absolutely feared the punishment. A vague fear, nothing he'd ever done had intentionally hurt her, but his withdrawal or his disappointment would be more than enough reprimand. Now she found herself unable to speak, unable to gain her footing and be the competent person she normally was. He was taking her ability to manage her situation and continue pleasing him like he wanted. Like she wanted. Another wave of electricity broke over her with an outpouring of warmth and fluid and she no longer knew whether the feelings were happening of their own accord or if he was doing it with his remote. She also wondered if she might have leaked urine, she had so many sensations forcing their way through her. He'd always been clear that he wasn't into humiliation, but that was what she felt trying to ask him to go to the bathroom to check herself. "Please." She began. She swallowed and tried to form the words in her brain, but they were slow and unwieldy. "Could I..." Yesterday, she'd been chatting with several of the office girls at lunch. The topic of conversation came around to one of the women who had taken a leave of absence. She had been beaten by her husband. They all knew she'd liked the rough sex and it had just steadily gotten rougher until she was taking beatings. That was her greatest fear. That this wasn't the extreme, incredible and intense pleasure she was enjoying, but a prelude to the violence that would make a mockery of her. All this amazing, rapturous feeling will disappear with the flash of fists and the pain of reality will show through. He said over and over, from the beginning he was not mean. He always says that Dom doesn't mean what most men make of it: vicious nasty bastards. He says that humiliation and abuse are forms of violence and violence is not pleasure. Violence, however much people have twined them together, has nothing to do with sex and joy. Pleasure and pain can commingle and lose one in the other, but violence and abuse are diseases of psyche. She still feared. He has pushed her boundaries so far that she no longer knew where she had started. It was humiliation she felt asking him for a bathroom break. A moment to just make sure she was okay. She swallowed hard, "could I go to the bathroom?" "Please?" She thought she had forgotten please. She would cry if tears didn't make her feel so much worse. He smiled so sweetly at her and touched her cheek. She was sure he was going to tell her no. He was always so gentle when he was pressing a new or more terrible torture upon her. It was so confusing and terrifying and frustrating and overwhelming. "You probably do need that don't you?" he said. "Here." He held out a couple clamps. They looked like torture devices. She stared at them. "They're applicators for the nipple rings." Now it clicked. She nodded and took them. He took her hand and held it just briefly. So touchingly. He smoothed her hair and kissed her. "You are a good little sub", he whispered, "don't forget your purse." In the bathroom, she almost collapsed again. She went to a stall and checked herself over. It looked and felt like it was just her juices in a continuous flow mode. The vibrator was on a low hum. That's what was causing the sensations and the wave effects. Her knees were so weak, she wondered if she would be able to get back up. She rummaged in her purse and felt the bra she should have already put on and had forgotten. A wave of fear, relief, pleasure and anticipation washed through her and her back arched in a shudder. She was about to have an orgasm and tried to concentrate to stop it. She knew if he found out she would be punished and that only heightened the feeling. She was arching more and reached out to grip the stall sides when the door opened and brought her up short. She coughed out a half cry as she convulsed from her head to her ankles. At least the orgasm was pushed back. She was shaking all over. Pulling her dress down, the old bra off and the new one on was quite an exercise all by itself. She managed all that and even the nipple rings (that sent her into another near climax broken by the flush of a toilet and she had to break off a scream by another fake coughing spell). She had to hold the stall door and the sinks to work her way, but she got out the door and to the table somehow. Her wine was waiting and a tiramisu that she knew she couldn't eat if she tried. She took a sip of the wine and it was tasteless after the bathroom ordeal. He pressed his chest to her, slid his fingers between them and pinched her nipple to wrack her body with another convulsion. "I guess you're ready to come with me, huh?" He was teasing her. She only managed a weak nod. Half his drink was gone, none of hers and he laid some bills on the table. Box Lunch Ch. 02 She thought the ride home would be agony. He had a way of maintaining her on the edge of orgasm until she would shudder and writhe, beg and plead, and he would finally release her. He would threaten leaving her frustrated and panting, but he never had. She knew he would, she had no doubt, but she did everything he said as well and as thoroughly and as quickly as possible. She knew the day might come when she would fail him, but she worked as hard and as diligent as she ever had in her career, school or anything else she ever truly wanted. She was all in. He helped her in the car and fastened the seat belt. One of his favorite gestures and his growing bulge showed it. He's told her before that the way the belt fits, outlining the woman's breasts and the restraint itself, turns him on. She was clutching her purse, just for something to do with her hands when he took it gently from her and set it on the floorboards. "Do you have your other presents here?" He asked her. He put his hand in the opening when she nodded and after feeling around a short time, brought out the roll of sports wrap. The fabric wound around her wrists, first one then the other. Tight but comfortable. The wrapping left her hands about four inches apart. This was more familiar ground for her. He loved her bound hands in front of her as she sucked him. Her mouth wetted as she thought about it and she considered how he had her so conditioned. If he did something that would lead to her orgasm, she would soak her panties. If he did something that she knew would lead to her sucking him, her mouth juices would flow. All he had to do was indicate what was next and she would anxiously anticipate what he needed. His pants were jutting and she wriggled a little to push her breasts out at him. He took the hint and before closing the door on her, reached out and pinched her nipple, sending a shock wave through her. The seat belt tautened as a shudder made the balls in her bounce and another wave rebounded from her groin, finishing in a splurge of wetness. The fabric of her dress was rubbing her nipples raw as they strained for release and he found her moaning piteously when he slid into the seat next to her. "Hang on baby," he said as though he knew exactly how exquisite the ache and how deep the agony she felt. "We'll be home soon and you can cum all you want. I give you permission. In fact," he paused and his voice went a little quieter as it does when he is setting her up for adventure (it turns him on), "I will want you to cum immediately when my cock pushes its way through your succulent lips. Do you understand?" She nodded even as her throat constricted and the moisture between her legs seemed to dry. He was changing the rules again. The way the cloth was rubbing against her nipples suddenly seemed more irritating than exciting. Where before, it was making her moan and shooting stabs of delicious shivers through her, now the feeling was one of rubbing and dread. Way back at the beginning of their relationship. The first time they'd made love. She came. Over and over. With wild abandon. She'd always been an instant cummer. She never needed to masturbate because she would cum riding horses, motorcycles, straddling couches, sometimes just leaning up against a humming motor. With her first sexual experiences came orgasms and enjoyment. When she listened to other women tell how they just couldn't under certain conditions or with certain guys, she didn't agree. She couldn't understand their problem. With her, it wasn't a question of having one or not, it was how many a man could give her. That was until Him. The first time they'd had sex, he gave her many. She didn't really count, because he was already messing with her. He told her at one moment that she should have all she could. That became such an ominous statement. At the time, she was in the throes of a really nice one and didn't ask what he meant until later. He said then "you should have as many as you can right now. You might wish for them later." It sounded threatening at the time, but she was still getting used to him and the way he was telling her what would happen to her. He would tell her how he would make her cum next and then do it. It was exciting, different for her and interesting. Then he would say these little things like "enjoy it while you can." She didn't believe it. At the time, she laughed. In her mind, she scoffed. Men were always making boasts about their prowess. In her experiences, they were all pretty similar. The boasting was for them. They needed to build themselves up and boost their confidence or they would have troubles getting it up or keeping it up. She could cum anytime and as often as she wanted. She knew better now. He'd started slowly with her, pulling out just at the edge of orgasm and making her suck him. He'd stop pumping and spank her just before she would cum. He would croon to her, "don't cum yet." She would spend hours on the edge of climax and have to beg for release when she could no longer stand it. Then he would let her. Then she could cum. He would tell her to go ahead and the flood of spasms would take her so hard and intensely that she would be unable to think. He worked on her. She knew now that it had all been planned. It had been stacked against her from the start. When he had said she should have all the orgasms she could, he had meant it. She couldn't even masturbate now if she wanted to. He kept her frustrated or satisfied as he wanted. She was his. She was bare before him. Her transparency for him was made clear with his next words to her. "you'll do fine. I'll help you this time. I'll make sure you are ready before I shove my cock in you. If not, we'll just try again until you get it." Just as she relaxed, he added "of course, you will be punished and probably frustrated for days." He stroked her hair as he said this last and she shuddered with both pleasure and fear. He'd never punished her directly. He certainly tormented and tortured her, but she'd never earned a punishment. She's always managed to please him. He told her over and over that one of his objects is to offer a punishment that she both craves and avoids, the same as the reward. She struggled to never think too long or hard on this. The rewards he gave her now matched that description exactly. She both craved them -- desired them ardently -- and fretted over them. Feared them. Each next time brought a new level of climax to her. She could no longer determine whether they were painful contractures ripping through her body or delirious pleasure stripping her of her moorings. She needed it desperately and was decidedly afraid she would be taken too far. She had truthfully feared for her sanity and consciousness the past couple times and worried that it would only get worse and harder to maintain her grip. He was taking her completely. Now, he'd changed the rules. She tested herself. The fact that she'd barely kept from an orgasm back in the bathroom gave her encouragement. She relaxed into the sensation, just a little. Joy flooded into her, but release was just beyond her reach. She let go a little more, trying to let the vibrations move her, but now that she was allowed, she was finding she couldn't. She felt the low hum of the egg and the jiggling and waves of the balls, but the familiar building tension just wouldn't come. The anxiety did. She'd never failed him. She didn't believe he would be mean, but to disappoint him would be intolerable every bit as much as if he became angry. She wanted to please him so bad, she groaned audibly. Hearing this, he reached in his pocket and the humming stopped. The flutters of the balls slowly died away and she was able to take a deep breath. Her first in hours, she realized. The car had slowed and she noticed now they were turning into a small park overrun with trees. There were a few picnic tables set haphazardly about under the boughs of the old pines. At the far back of the parking lot, she could just see a path but he avoided that area and ran smoothly into a spot at the furthest corner. He was out of the car and around to her side before she truly knew what was happening. Her brain had become sluggish with the constant stimulation. The high of the teasing and being on the edge of orgasm for what was now hours and then the sudden anxiety of the change in rules. The door opened as she was struggling for some composure. He pushed the door open wide and moved her foot into a slightly awkward position as he unbuckled her. "You have to keep your foot here," he said, and showed her how the overhead light shuts off when her foot pushes the little button. Then he took her bound hands and moved them to his groin as he began stroking her hair. This was familiar ground for her at least. She knew how to please him. He always gets so turned on with her hands tied in front of her, around his cock as she sucks him, she nearly cums feeling his excitement. One of the few times she feels him lose control. She gobbled at his lengthening member with wild abandon. She was fucking him with her mouth, cramming it in and pulling her head back, his hands were full on the back of her head, he was groaning and her hands were wrapped on his shaft moving up and down with the rhythm of her mouth when he blew. She felt the pop with her lips and the squirt of his jism with her throat, the pumping with her hands and his shudders with her entire body. It was heaven for her! Her pussy was pouring moisture. The flood was back with interest and, for now, the trepidation was held at bay. He buckled her back in, tweaked her nipple to send a stab of shivering ecstasy through her and closed the door firmly. As he buckled himself in, he reached again into his pocket and the warm buzzing filled her senses, driving her to a frenzy. Just as her muscles started their bucking and the well known quivers were firing from her toes to her head, he told her quietly "that was very good. You're always such a good girl. I can't wait to feel you cum all over my cock. I can't wait to feel it just as I push into you." It was as if he knew the moment of her climax. It had always been like that. He just knew. He knew when to stop and when to push. Was she so open? Now she feared she couldn't do it on demand. As close as she'd been all day, would she be able to when he told her? her juices shriveled and dried and her hope waned. Her moan was less of pleasure and more of despair. She'd thought earlier that the ride home would be agony and she should have listened to that thought and believed it. He does this to her. Moves her one direction, then shoves her back the other way. Glittering hopes and crashing despair. Sometimes she feared he would turn her bipolar. Right now, she was having trouble keeping her breath and near panic. His voice brought her back a little. His voice anchors her when she panics, but sets her off when she's calm. The frustration was building. And the fear that she wouldn't be able to do what he asked of her. He always brought both her inner worlds with him. She was in constant turmoil since nearly the first. The things he had said at the beginning seemed random at the time, but now foreshadowed her whole world and there was a constant voice that told her she should have listened. Too late now. She needed it all so bad she couldn't stop if it hurt too much to go on. "When we get home," he was saying, "I'm going to tie you to the bed and you will tell me what you need for an orgasm. You will cum as soon as my cock slides in you and I will give you what you need for that to happen. I know it's hard for you," he said this gently and pushed her hair away from her cheek. She shivered and felt herself near tears. That orgasm was getting further from her by the mile. "You'll be tied face up and you'll cum as soon as I ram my cock in you. You can tell me then if you want it fast or slow and even when you are ready. I will spank you first if you want and let you suck on me if you can tell me you'll be able to do it. I don't want to reward you if it's going to take four or five strokes for you to cum. I'll just let you cum and we'll try again another time, okay?" She could barely swallow, let alone nod. It was too few miles to the drive. Too little time for her to try to pull herself together. The wheels were crunching across her thoughts and the gravel before she knew it. The stop seemed like a lurch throwing her out of her self. He held her arm walking her into the house and nonstop down the hall to the bedroom. There was no waste of time pushing her onto the bed and securing her arms above her head. He turned her onto her stomach and tied her legs spread eagled. This wasn't how she was supposed to be, she thought. She was excited and uncertain and bare and now she had her ass stuck up in the air as he shoved pillows under her hips. She wriggled, but the ties were tight. He didn't usually tie them like this. Normally he kept them loose enough that she wouldn't panic with the feelings of being trapped. He might tighten them later, but at first, he always let her get used to them. She could only wriggle. Her ass was pushed up and she could barely do more than push it out further. She'd never had her legs tied so tight and she was starting to panic and struggle when the first lash struck her. She couldn't believe that in spite of everything, the wetness spurted with that first whisk of leather and burning slash. "Do you want your whipping? Would that help?" His voice was quiet and modulated, but she could sense the excitement growing in him. Somehow he'd gotten his clothes off and as she glanced over, his cock was huge and jumping. "Yes, please." "Please what?" "Yes, I want whipped, please..." she paused, did she dare? "I don't think I can." Her voice quavered and the tears bubbled close now. How could she explain to him how she needed to please him yet didn't feel as though she could just cum, just like that, for him? All this time he'd kept her from her quick and easy orgasms, taught her to wait and to cum when he released her, and now, when he told her she could, she felt only frustration and the clutching feeling of withholding. Her voice broke down. Another lash fell. Another spurt of juice. Another wracking shudder from the balls and vibrator. A dry heave. She wouldn't cum from that. Couldn't. He placed his hand upon the back of her head and pressured her to his member. It smelled and tasted of his sperm and she lapped at it greedily, kissing, licking, slurping and trying to get it in her mouth. He held it just out of her reach so she nibbled at it with her lips and moaned for more. The lash came down again and again. Three, five, ten times. She had no idea. Each time the leather struck, moisture eeked from her swollen aching pussy lips, the smack made her ass flinch, jiggled the balls and ripped sensation through her womb. She thought it would tear her in half before she could cum from it. He grabbed her hair and pulled her off his cock. She was proud that it took some force on his part. She wanted to please him so. Make him lose control and feel his hips buck and pump hot lotion in her mouth. She was panting now. She wanted it. She still didn't think she could cum immediately, but she wanted that fucking. Spankings definitely had that effect on her. He whipped her one more time and the lashes cut down between her crack and nipped across her clit making her scream with bliss/pain. The smarting wouldn't go away and throbbed to a dull ache when she felt her cunt give up the egg vibrator with a squelch. The lack of it was a new sensation all together. Then the balls came wedging out, leaving a hole inside her that pulsated with a hum she no longer felt and a sting that lingered. She hadn't had a thought for a long time. She may have passed out, she didn't know and couldn't get a grip on herself to remember. He inserted the egg into her rectum and turned it on. The beat was too familiar to rebel against. He turned her over. Untied her legs, took out the pillows and retied them as she lay face up with her dress hiked above her waist. He pulled the straps of her dress off her arms so he could reach her tits and grabbed fistfuls of them. Kneaded them and teased the nipples as they stood erect and sore. She could feel her juices pooling under ass and cooling the red hot whip marks. He'd really flogged her. She could feel the cuts now. Her wetness was soothing to them and gave her even more awareness of her flesh than she thought possible. She was beginning to think she might cum like he asked when the tip of his tongue just touched her clit and made her rear and scream. He continued with the barest contact while she bucked. Then it stopped. At least his part. Her body was jolting and thrusting without being able to move. "Are you ready?" he was so quiet and calm sounding, but she sensed the thrill there. She was just able to croak "please. Please fuck me. Please let me cum." The head of his cock entering her broke her. By the time the entire length had made it inside her, she had had her body turned inside out with the force of her orgasm and was starting back up for another. He pulled out and kissed her, reaching over her to press his chest into her breast as he untied her arms. "You did good." He crooned and kissed her again. He untied her legs and fucked her. Freed, she came all she could stand and when he poured his soul out into her, she welcomed it with the breath of total relief. He held her, stroking her hair and back and whispering into her ear. "You did so good. I wasn't sure you had it in you. What a delight you are. What a wonderful little sub." She craved every word and they fell upon her as a soothing rain, the dripping lulling her into sleep. And it was dreamless.