3 comments/ 47537 views/ 2 favorites Compliance By: Paul_Jones The gallery was converted from a set of offices above a warehouse in a rapidly gentrifying part of town. The confusing maze of internal walls and narrow corridors had been taken out to leave a big open space in the centre with a ring of smaller rooms leading off it. The rooms along the wall with the windows facing out into the street were offices for gallery staff and the rooms around the other sides were used for shows and storage. The whole space was painted white but the floors were old dark wooden floorboards and the roof was high with all the wooden beams and air-conditioning ducting left exposed. Stairs from the street door below came up the middle of the big room, with a railing around the space they left. The gallery had been running for a number of years as the area around it slowly acquired arty shops, now growing expensive, and more warehouses were converted into artists' lofts and apartments. Despite the bright walls and big space it had an intimate, lived in, survivor of a bohemian past, feel. Mistress C, in her unfamiliar role as curator, and the gallery Director stood near the top of the stairs surveying the main room. Everything looked ready. Near them were two big solid tables in dark wood laid out with wine glasses and bottles ready for the guests for the opening night. The pictures for the exhibition were all up and the videos in the side rooms were running. Mistress C could hear them faintly from where she stood. The elder of the two serving women at the drinks table was studiously avoiding looking at the pictures around the walls; the younger one was still a little flushed and trying not to be caught looking more closely. Mistress C thought that was a good indication for the public reaction to them. The photographs were arranged in a single row each with a bright spot light giving it a pool of brightness with its associated material. The shots was printed out 12 by 8 on glossy paper and mounted on black cardboard so they stood out from the wall. They were not framed. All of them had been taken on a cell phone camera so the size made even the best of them grainy. There were no captions but next to each photo were text messages printed out on pieces of thick cardboard. They were not arty shots. In all there were 107 pictures of a man's penis. Near the centre of the room, on the other side of the stairs from the drinks table there was a naked man in a small cage. He was brightly spot lit and a camera hanging from the roof was trained on him. Mistress C walked down the room and looked into the smaller rooms on either side. Yes, the films were playing and seating in big dark leather couches had been arranged. She turned and nodded to the gallery Director who smiled back in return. They were good to go. As she walked back to the drinks table the first guests arrived. Mistress C didn't know the first couple who came in - they weren't scene people. They were in their mid-30s, smartly dressed in office clothes and they looked very nervous, which wasn't helped at all by finding the gallery nearly empty. MMistress C watched them with interest – she was keen to see if the Director was right. Would ordinary people accept this as art or would they be horrified and rush off to return with the police? The couple quickly took a drink each and stood very close together studiously reading the big information panel on the wall. Mistress C found an orange juice and stood near the drinks table, trying to follow what the couple's reaction without staring. The information read: Compliance On the 18th 2008 November Mistress C asked her slave to text her a photograph to prove he was locked up as she had asked. She liked getting the photo so much that she demanded more. Over time the taking and sending of the photographs evolved along with the intensifying sadomasochistic relationship of Mistress C and her slave. As you follow the sequence of texted photographs around the room to the left, you can see those changes reflected pictorially. At the time of the first photograph the slave lived apart from Mistress C and worked in an office. By the end of the year he was a full time slave to her, working from her house, naked and in chains, on various publishing and internet projects. In order to be sure that her slave could not store images and send them later, Mistress C often texted a message to be included in each photograph and asked for the date to be included. After she received each image Mistress C often responded with another text. The texts are reproduced next to their images. Accompanying the main sequence of photographs is further material in the side galleries to provide context. Be warned - this is not for the faint hearted. Some people may find the images disturbing. Mmm, thought Mistress C, anyone who found the images disturbing was going to have a lot of trouble with the entertainment she had planned for the evening. She hoped that the Director had judged her audience well and no one had them both arrested. The smartly dressed couple had finished reading the warning and started to work their way around the photographs. They were holding hands tightly, looking flushed and intense but not upset. The first photo was mostly quite out of focus. It was of a cock encased in an acrylic chastity device. The cock ring was locked to the cage by a plastic tag and it was clear that the chief aim of the photographer had been to show the serial number of the tag so it could be read. The penis was blurred but you could see that it wasn't erect in the cage. There was nothing overtly erotic about the photograph but it seemed to have caught the interest of the couple. The printed out text on the left of it said 'Prove you are locked' and the one on the right simply said 'Good slave.' C hadn't been sure about including that photo in the exhibition because it was so unexciting but the Director of the gallery had insisted as soon she had seen it. It was important to show how the whole thing had started. C had originally invited the Director to her house for tea to discuss displaying a set of professional studio pictures of her slave being tortured that she was going to sell. After looking them over the director had been disappointingly uninterested. What had really fascinated her was C using her slave as a tea table. They had had a long discussion about the training required to make it work. Mistress C explained to the Director how she had used full teapots of water getting hotter and hotter. If he moved and spilt the water it hurt him worse than just the heat from the pot and he would get a beating as well. Mistress C demonstrated how well the training had worked by whipping his thighs with the tea still on his back. He cried out but didn't spill a drop. The Director was completely taken by the idea of using the man as furniture and having him suffer. She felt the man's reddened thighs then reached under him to feel if he was excited and found he was locked in a chastity device that wouldn't let him get fully hard. Her fascination grew – especially when Mistress C told her that her slave sometimes wasn't allowed to come for weeks at a time. The Director couldn't understand how a man would let himself be used like that without immediate sexual satisfaction. So Mistress C went back to to how it all started, with her need to be sure he was locked up as she had asked when she couldn't be there, and that reminded her of the all photographs still left on her mobile. She took it out and they looked at them on the tiny screen; she hadn't deleted a single one. The Director was delighted with such a fresh and novel record of the man's enslavement and immediately pictured an exhibition based on these quirky cell phone photos - grainy and out of focus though they would be when they were printed out. They told a genuinely new story. The big artistic studio glossies were interesting in their way but could be used as basically just merchandise. The Director's interest in the tea table had had also surfaced in the exhibition. Videos of the slave being used as various sorts of furniture were playing on one of the gallery rooms. If tonight's demonstration went well perhaps Mistress C would bring him in to be a table during the exhibition from time to time. Mistress C was worried that the poor quality of the shots would be a problem and they would be better to re-take them with a better camera if they were to be shown in public. The Director reassured her that that was what made them so special. Particularly as the quality improved as her slave got more experience and the pictures more adventurous. The two women had sat hunched over the phone almost giggling at the pictures, leaning on the slave who had taken them as the tea cooled on his back. The Directors favorite had been a picture of his penis hugely erect with the foreskin pulled back to show it was dribbling that clearly hadn't been taken by the slave. A hand with very sharp looking red nails was holding the cock pointed towards the camera to show the pre-cum forming a drop on the tip. A matching hand held a piece of coloured paper with the note 'I only come for you Mistress' next to the glans. "What's going on there?" she had asked. "Oh, I was over in Sydney for Mardi Gras and I left him with a couple of friends. When my text asking for a picture came through they thought they would play a game to see how close to coming they could get him before locking him away again. They made him write out that sign for them before they started. It took a few goes to get a good picture and there was a lot of begging to come, they said, before they locked it back up. They didn't let him but they made sure he made them come with his mouth a few times." "Do you always control him like that?" "Always since we have been serious – since the first picture. When we first started, we were just playing around and he used to jerk off a fair bit. I didn't like to think of him doing it but I couldn't stop him even though he said he was thinking of me. Sometimes he'd come to me clearly not up to it and I'd guess he'd been playing with himself. That's what these photo's are mostly for; control. Even when his cock is free he knows he could be asked for a photo at any time and if he can't get it up then I know he's been wanking." "It could be other things, though." "His problem. He likes to be locked up because that takes the responsibility away from him but I don't keep him that way all the time; I much prefer psychological pressure." "Do you let him come often?" "No, why should I? I like to see him excited for me. It's fun to forbid him to come then force him to. I like to see him lose control." "And then what happens?" "I punish him for it. It's quite different whipping someone when they are spent compared to when they are sexually aroused. They get no pleasure out of it and I get a lot more." Thinking about that conversation sent Mistress C over to look for her own favorite photograph. It was fairly early on, before her slave had become full-time. It showed his penis in a 4 ringed gates of hell, fully erect with the foreskin pulled back, and clipped to one of the testicles with a little bulldog clip was a note reading 'Thinking of you Mistress' and the date. The shot was clear and nicely composed. She couldn't say why she liked it so much - it just had an air of excited anticipation that appealed to her. The text next to it simply commanded, 'Send photo.' More people had arrived now. There was quite a group around the drinks table and the hum of conversation was rising; the caterers were too busy to look around anymore. A few people, mostly couples, were moving around the photographs. It seemed that people needed a pause and a drink to collect their thoughts, and support, before braving the pictures in the exhibition. She looked around and saw where her first couple was now. They had passed the first few shots and were slowing again at the point where she had demanded that he be erect in every picture. She agreed with them: the pictures were much more interesting from then on. She saw they were spending a long time looking at her favorite picture and was pleased. Finally someone had moved away from the growing crowd by the drinks table to look at her slave in his cage. A tall, purposeful looking woman had taken her drink and was inspecting him quite closely. He had been carefully prepared and Mistress C was proud of him. He had been waxed completely hairless from the neck down. The cage was small, just tall and long enough for him to kneel on all fours with his head and arse almost touching the bars. Wrist and ankle cuffs were locked to the bottom corners of the cage, holding his legs well spread. He was blindfolded, gagged and wearing his 'dress' harness. It was made of thick shiny black leather and the rings and studs were actual silver. It had taken him a long time to polish it to her satisfaction for tonight. The harness was strapped to the bars at the top of the cage so he was completely immobilized and she had ordered him to stay as still as possible so people might take him for a mannequin. Mistress C wondered how people would respond to him. Would they treat him as art and just look or would they touch? The Director had been particularly interested in this blurring of the lines between art and well, pornography. They had contemplated having a sign saying 'Please Touch' but then decided the uncertainty would be better. He really was keeping very still. If she looked closely she could see him breathing but that was all the movement. She could see that he had heard people approaching and was flushing slightly but that was only noticeable if you knew him. Her favorite view was from behind. She stood looking down at him, wrestling with the temptation to start the touching by getting down and fondling his balls. She loved the way they looked: hairless and vulnerable. Her stomach swooped as she thought of the electric wand she had brought in case he misbehaved and almost thought she saw his scrotum tighten in response to her anticipation. A few people were near him now and the tall woman who had come to look at him first was walking slowly around him with an apprising air. As she passed Mistress C she caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Mistress C nodded and the woman smiled and continued walking around the cage. People were looking at him and some couples whispering, not sure if it was just a realistic model in the cage. The tall woman stopped and stood looking at the man for a while then slowly and deliberately poured her champagne onto his back. The completely unexpected shock of the cold liquid made him jump, hitting the top of the cage and rattling his chains loudly enough to make a lot of the people at the drinks table look over at them and the people near him step back. The woman shrugged and said "Look, not a sculpture after all," to no one in particular then smiled at Mistress C again and said "Can I get you a drink, mine seems to be empty?" "Thank you," said Mistress C holding out her glass. "Orange juice? You wouldn't like something stronger?" "No thank you; maybe later." The woman took the glasses off towards the drinks table as more people began to walk over to look at the slave. By the time she came back and gave Mistress C her drink there were five or six people standing around the cage. "Yours, I take it?" she said quietly in C's ear, "Very nice. Not a mark on him, I see." "Thank you. No, but I expect that will change by the end the evening" "Good," said the woman, moving off, "I look forward to it." Mistress C felt a tingle in her genitals as she thought about it herself. Now there were quite a few people moving around the gallery looking at the photographs and some watching the films or looking at the big prints in the side rooms. Most of the people in the main room were working through the photos in order but some were dipping in and out. She looked around for her original couple and walked over to them. They were looking at a picture of a flaccid penis. The note clipped onto the testicles said 'Your cockslave Mistress' and the date. The text printed out next to it said 'That is no use to me. Have you been wanking? You will be punished.' In the next picture the penis was erect but now completely hairless. It was still obviously pink and sore from being freshly waxed. There were dark bruises along the shaft of the penis. The note held next to it said 'My cock is truly yours Mistress' and the text said 'You better believe it.' Mistress C remembered how angry she had been that day. She had not instructed her slave not to come without permission but had assumed that he would always ask. Finding out that he had jerked off without telling her was a disappointment. She had told him to arrange an appointment at 10.00 the next day to get waxed and let her know where it was so she could watch. As he had started to splutter "But I don't know..." she had hung up on him. She was still angry during the waxing. It was done in a very up market salon; god knows how much it had cost him at such short notice. She found him looking very embarrassed and hang-dog in the reception area. They were taken into booth by a solidly built middle-aged woman wearing a white smock and with very short bleached hair. He had obviously had to explain something of the situation because she was looking amused and only spoke to C. "I don't usually do men so I've no idea how much it will hurt." "The more the better," said Mistress C, "I want to see him squirm." The waxing had clearly hurt a lot. He had had to bite his finger to stop himself crying out. When he turned over so the woman could wax between his buttocks he was shaking. Mistress C watched unsympathetically with her arms folded. The woman from the spa was enjoying herself. Even after that Mistress C felt he had not suffered enough. In the taxi back to her house she had told him, "I'm disgusted with you. What makes you think you can just wank whenever you feel like it? You only come when I say, cockslave." Her slave was blushing deeply and the driver was smirking at him in the rear view mirror. When she got him home she had had him kneel naked on the tiled floor and play with himself as she watched. When it looked like he was close to coming she made him put his hands on his head and she hit his cock with her riding crop several times then she let him continue. After three times she let him come and made him lick it off the floor. When he had finished she had him hold out his hands. "Keep your dirty little hands off my cock unless I tell you. Do you get that, stupid?" She whipped his hands with the crop until he cried. The next few photographs all showed the cock in the chastity device from different angles. Her couple was looking at it with interest and Mistress C heard the woman whisper "Would you wear one for me?" but turned away before she could hear the answer. She was disappointed; the woman should have said "Wear one for me." After the run of photographs in the chastity device, which she thought were a bit dull, there was another from when she began to trust him again that was one of her favorites,. This time there were a series of texts leading up to the photo. The first said 'Please may I come Mistress', then 'No', 'Please may I come for you, Mistress', and finally 'No, you can play with yourself until you are dribbling. Send a picture.' This time the photo had no note, it just showed the glans of his penis with the foreskin pulled back, all shiny with pre-cum and in the background his hand. The text after it said 'Good slave. Now leave it alone' and was followed by 'Please Mistress may I come?' She hadn't bothered to answer but he had been very excited the next day. She hadn't let him come then either. Passing one of the rooms where videos were showing she heard the sound of her crop and her slave screaming on the sound track. It was playing quite quietly and she thought it was going to be much more impressive live. Compliance I'm sorry it's been so long... She was always the only one. His father was a cruel, merciless man. In the end all that he had learned of being a man was from him, including loving this woman now in front of him. By all rights she was raised to be his sister, her father owed his father a debt and she was the payment. When she came to live in his father's house she was a young girl of eight years with wide brown eyes and dark hair that hung lank and dirty to her waist, she had been taken in and cleaned up and made into a true lady. She had turned his merciless father into a loving man when he was with her. His father would beat him and his mother but her, he never touched her. His mother would send her in as an intermediary to ask for things and though a part of his mother had surely hated the girl in the end the girl was always good to his mother and would always come between her and his father. As a girl she curled into his lap wrapped her arm around his neck as she leaned back against him sucking her thumb, he read to her of politics, history and their family business. She was his daughter in every sense of the word and she grew up loyal and fierce. "One day, my love, you will marry my boy and then you will be mine forever." She had looked up at him with her dark eyes and only nodded her head. He was two years older than her and on her 18 birthday he knew what he would do to her, he had seen it between them since she had first walked into his life. They were alone in the mansion, his mother was out shopping on his father's credit cards, she was alone in the house, home from school. He was on winter break and in a week he would be leaving to go back to college. He knew what he would do. To be honest, he had thought about this, dreamed about this moment, wondering what she would smell like, taste like, how her screams would feel ringing in his ears. His feet took him to her bedroom door which she had shut, his fingers curled over the doorknob, it wasn't too late, a voice whispered in his head, its not too late to stop. Fuck this, his father gave her to him, this was to be expected, she had to comply. His heart pounding, the blood rushing in his ears he opened the door. She was sitting on her white stool in front of the huge antique vanity table that his father had gotten her when she was only ten years old. His mother had cried out in protest as the movers had carried it in saying why should such a small young girl have such a beautiful piece of furniture that she would essentially abuse it and not appreciate its true worth. For that his father had slapped his mother across the face so hard he broke her lip open and she spit blood onto the bare wooden floors. "You know better than to say shit to me about what I give my girl." His mother faded away into the background while his father surprised his daughter with the present. She had jumped up and cried out in joy at the sight and his father had known all along that this was the right present for her. To this day she would sit in front of the mirror brushing her hair humming softly to herself or she would be oiling the wood with lemon scented beeswax. It was her favorite thing in the house. She was brushing her long dark hair, he had never really gotten to see it before and realize how long it was as she always kept a respectful distance away from him. She could see in his eyes and in his words what he was thinking, what he wanted from her. Her eyes met his in the mirror and instead of screaming or crying out she stopped brushing her hair and set her hairbrush down onto the table. She was so beautiful. He shut the door behind him without turning away feeling for the lock with his fingers and closing it, sealing them in her room. She looked at him with her dark eyes solemn and unafraid, her dark hair hung down to her hips in glossy waves that smelled of roses. Her athletic body was turned to face him, she was dressed simply in a white dress that clung to her waist the square neckline highlighting the smooth white skin of her neck and chest. "Ronin." She whispered. "Adriana." She lived up to her name, she was a lovely dark lady that came from the sea, from the wharfs where her real father worked. They had always understood one another as children, with a look or a rare touch they had always known what the other was thinking or feeling. Ronin had no doubt that she knew what he had planned for her all along and that was why she had always kept her distance from him. But now with their father away and his mother at play, Ronin would not be denied any longer. He took one step toward her and Adriana stood up. "You know this has to happen. You know I can't stop..." Adriana took a step away from the vanity table and moved towards the window to her right, not towards the bed. "It doesn't matter what Daddy said, you are, you always have been free to choose...it doesn't have to be me. You don't have to do this to me." She was right, every word she said, his father would be disappointed if they didn't marry but it was not crucial to his happiness and Ronin would still inherit the business. But Adriana was under his skin, in his blood. From the first moment he had seen her as a young boy he had wanted her for himself, not fully understanding his dark desires at that age but now at 20 he knew. And he wanted. He took another step into her room Adriana didn't move she just watched him as he took yet another step. "You don't even want me, Ronin." Her softly spoken words halted his movements as they registered in his brain. Not want her? What the hell was she thinking? She was the only thing he wanted. The only thing that mattered in his life, the promise of her hand was what kept him here in his father's house. To know that one day he could have her fully, that was what he dreamed of. "How could you think that? You know, you've always known how I feel about you." He clenched and unclenched his fists desperate to feel her soft skin. Adriana's heart leapt at Ronin's words. He was so beautiful. His black hair that he always kept slightly long and in his beautiful green eyes, his straight nose and smooth tanned skin. Adriana knew she couldn't escape him. He had such a strong, sexy body with all the sports that Daddy enrolled him in and all the frustrated nights that he had to spend alone without her he took out on his body as he swam in their Olympic pool. Adriana knew as she always watched him. He would take what he wanted from her. "You're so beautiful." The words came out unbidden from her lips as Adriana moved closer to the window. The stunned look that crossed Ronin's face was one Adriana would savor for the rest of her life. "Then don't fight me, give in," Ronin stepped closer, he was less than twelve feet away from her. "I swear I'll make you want me, I promise you will always ask for more." His seductive words wrapped around her filling Adriana's head with visions of the two of them locked in each others arms. She wasn't naive, she knew what Ronin wanted, many of her school friends had already had sex with their boyfriends and lived to tell about it in hot, secret whispers. Why fight the inevitable? She was as good as his already. But Adriana dreamed of love, she wanted Ronin to love her not just want her. This was about dominance and control, right? He took another step toward her. Adriana heard the blood rush in her ears, felt her heart rate increase. "I'll fight you." "Good." Ronin whispered. "I'm ready for you, I've always been." "I love you, Ronin." And she did, it was a deep, dark, secret love but it burned inside her and when she saw Ronin with another girl she wanted to scream and rage and fight the other girl because Ronin was hers. She understood him, she loved him. He was going to kill that love with what he was going to do, wasn't he? She thought. Ronin paused at her words, savoring them. He knew she was being truthful. But it didn't matter, he was too far gone now. Without warning he sprinted toward her closing the gap between them wrapping her in his arms and taking her to the floor. Adriana hit the carpeted floor with a rush of breath as she lay flat on her back. Ronin moved quickly between her thighs while Adriana kicked out at him with her legs but he was so strong, Ronin wrapped a hand around her ankle and pulled her more into him, spreading her legs apart with his hips. He wrapped one hand around her throat, his other hand grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip as he pulled it above her head. Her free hand was wrapped about his hand desperately trying to loosen his grip on her as he tightened his hand a little more. He knew somehow though that she wouldn't scream. "Just give in, my love, don't make me hurt you. I would never want to hurt you, Adriana." Ronin leaned forward kissing her lips. Adriana melted into his hot kiss enjoying their first kiss for a moment before she began to buck and thrash underneath him trying to throw him off of her. Ronin tightened his grip on her throat even more. Black spots danced before Adriana's eyes and she felt as though she was far away, floating away from Ronin. Ronin saw her eyes close and released his grip on her throat moving that hand down to the skirt of her dress which he began to pull up, one hand went to her panties and the thin cotton tore in his hands, he tossed it away from him. Adriana opened her eyes and took in deep gasps of air as she tried to turn away from Ronin feeling then hearing the rip of her panties as he forced them off of her. She was able to turn onto her stomach as Ronin had loosened his hold on her other arm but she was unable to get to her knees. The carpet was harsh and skinned the exposed areas of her knees and stomach causing them to bleed as she struggled soundlessly beneath him. Ronin flattened himself against her back causing the precious breaths that Adriana was able to get to whoosh out of her again, her chest burned but still she tried to crawl across the carpet to get away. "Do you give in?" He breathed into her ear, he was barely winded from his exertions while Adriana lay beneath him panting. "Just say you'll do what I want and this will stop, I swear it. I don't want it to be like this between us." She felt Ronin press his lips to the back of her shoulder. She then felt his hand on the back zipper of her dress pulling it down in one sharp screech. Still she didn't move or speak. His hand went inside her opened dress to caress her back, his touch burned over the raw scrapes on her shoulders. "You're bleeding." He whispered as he lowered his mouth to the wounds Adriana shivered as she felt his warm, wet tongue come out to lick the blood that oozed out. "Stop fighting me, let me love you. Let me make you mine." His voice was smoke and sin. So she gave in. Adriana nodded and Ronin felt a sense of triumph come over him as he backed off of her slowly. Adriana slowly moved to her hands and knees her dress falling forward exposing her breasts she removed her arms from the short sleeves as Ronin got to his feet standing over her, watching her every move. She paused taking deep breaths as her heart rate slowed and she began to reclaim the breath that had been knocked out of her. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the sound of Ronin's belt buckle being opened, the slide of leather against fabric as he removed it, he dropped it behind him as he reached up removing his T-shirt over his head baring his beautiful body to her in the sunlight. His green eyes glittered as they caught her dark eyes and held them. She saw her blood on his lips and shivered at the erotic sight. He was her every fantasy, every secret desire. Slowly she rose to her feet, her back still facing him, Adriana was able to see his reflection in the window in front of her. She watched as his hand went to the button on his shorts undoing it slowly, her heart stopped as she heard the metal zipper being pulled down. He slowly stepped out of his shorts and stood behind her in his boxers she could see his erection straining the cotton. Adriana moved slowly pushing her dress down her hips so that it fell at her bare feet, she stepped out of her dress turning slowly to face him then, naked, her dark hair hung wild and loose about her shoulders and hips. Ronin held out his hand palm up between them. Adriana broke their eye contact to gaze at his offered hand. She couldn't do it, she couldn't just give in and let Ronin take her. Where was her pride, her sense of self-preservation? Without warning Adriana turned toward the door sprinting to it, her hand on the doorknob, fingers fumbling with the lock when she felt the heat and silk of Ronin's bare chest against her back. His hand closed over hers as he wrapped his other arm about her waist lifting her off her feet and marching her back to her bed. Adriana struggled to get away but Ronin held her tightly throwing her onto the bed so she landed on her back wincing in pain as her scrapes touched the now rough comforter on the bed. Ronin fell on top of her running his hands from her shoulders down her silky skin to her hips which he grabbed and pulled down as he moved up her body to fit himself more perfectly against her. As he moved up onto her his boxers came away and he was exposed hard and throbbing, burning against her thighs. Adriana shivered at the feel of his long, hard cock burning her, feeling a rush of heat flood her pelvis and cunt. God, she wanted this, to feel him like this against her. It shouldn't be this way, she thought, she wanted...she just wanted Ronin. That was it. She wanted to know what it would be like to be his if only for a moment. He brought his mouth onto hers at first with force thinking that she would bite or headbutt him but when Adriana opened herself to his kiss letting his tongue slide into her mouth he moaned in ecstasy. Adriana's hands were pressed against his shoulders trying at first to ward him off but then as she melted under his kiss she wrapped her hands about his neck pulling him more into the kiss. It was the single most passionate moment Ronin had ever experienced, sure he'd kissed other girls, had even fingered one but never had there been this sense of closeness, passion or intimacy. He'd never felt love until now. He pulled his head back to look down at Adriana he stroked his hand from her hip down her thigh to her knee and she opened her legs wrapping them about his hips settling him deeper into her. "I love you." Adriana whispered. "I love you." Ronin answered. He had heard that he should go slow when he was with a girl but then he had never felt this way, been this excited before. In the back of his mind Ronin knew that he should stop and at least put a condom on, protect her but a selfish part of him wanted to be inside her bare and raw, fuck the consequences. Would it be so bad really? He thought, a baby would bind her to him and that was what he really wanted. He wanted Adriana bound to him, inescapably. His father would be overjoyed even though they were so young and besides, he was rich, Adriana would never have to work a day in her life if she didn't want to. Yes, Ronin thought, that wouldn't be bad at all. Ronin bent and caught her mouth with his at the same moment that he pressed himself deep within Adriana. Adriana screamed at the sensation of pain and then the ecstasy of feeling Ronin deep and hot inside her. This was what she had dreamed of as she watched him at night swimming in the pool, when their eyes met in the hallway or across the dinner table. This was what they had both always wanted. Even if he was taking it from her. Ronin stopped lodged deep inside her as he pushed up a little off her, he noted that his hand was shaking as he brushed her hair back away from her face his green eyes boring into hers. "Are you ok?" Adriana looked up at him tears shimmering in her dark eyes, his beautiful face inches from hers she caressed his face and sighed softly as he leaned into her hand. "Don't stop." She whispered. He would remember those words for the rest of his life. That even when she had fought him and he pinned her down to force her compliance, she had asked him not to stop. Fierce love for her burned in his chest as he started to move inside her. She was so tight and wet, Adriana moaned as Ronin began to move faster. He leaned down taking one of her tiny nipples into his mouth and he sucked hard as she cried out at the new sensation. Ronin lifted his head and Adriana watched with passion glazed eyes as he released her breast to sit up grasping her hips and pulling her until her hips were fully against him and he was as deep as he could get inside her, he caught her soft cry with his lips as he bent to kiss her. Adriana was caught between a line of erotic ecstasy and pain. Ronin felt so good inside her, it was better than she could have ever imagined, better than her friends had ever described. It was the love, she knew it, it was because they loved each other. Adriana brought her hips up to his and heard Ronin's breath catch. It was at that moment that Ronin stopped holding back, she wanted him as much as he wanted her and he let go and began to pound into her mercilessly. The screams that tore from her throat urged him on. He grabbed her shoulders as he bent to lay his chest over hers and he felt silk of her skin and the frantic beat of her heart beneath his. Adriana felt this burning in her womb that spread throughout her body and she let herself fall into the sensation and cried out when she felt the contractions that began in her cunt and spread to her womb. When Ronin felt her tight pussy clenching down on him he couldn't hold back a moment longer and he fucked her harder as he felt himself cum deep inside her. He fell on top of her suddenly drained of strength feeling totally satiated and at peace inside himself. Adriana brought her arms up to hold him close to her. They stayed like that for a moment until Ronin slowly moved pulling himself out of her he backed off the bed and looked down at his cock. He felt Adriana's dark eyes on him and he looked up at her then down to her cunt. There was blood all over his cock and on her pale thighs. Her virgin blood, the thought brought him an immense sense of pride, he was her first and he would make sure he was her only lover. He took two fingers of his right hand and stroked down the length of his cock meeting her eyes he placed his fingers into his mouth licking her virgin's blood off Adriana shivered watching Ronin fall to his knees, his hands coming over her knees the warmth from his clasp sinking into her skin as he turned and licked the blood from her inner thigh. "You're mine now." He smiled slowly as his verdant eyes met hers once again. Compliance Finally everyone was gone. The caterers had piled their boxes next to the lift and left, still looking a little shocked. The Director was the last to go, now very drunk and pleased with herself and her bravery for holding such an avant guard opening to her exhibition. She left her keys with Mistress C and headed off to find a taxi. The slave in his cage didn't really notice that the people had gone until Mistress C turned down the main lights leaving him brightly spot-lit in the centre of the room. He looked around in surprise as his Mistress walked alone towards him across the darkened gallery. There was no Master Pain and no audience; his fear fell away to be replaced by fierce joy expanding in his chest – there would be no more branding. But as she came closer his joy suddenly collapsed – he had disappointed her. Caught in the lights he couldn't see her face as she came towards him out of the shadows but he was sure she would be unhappy with him for showing his fear so badly. When she got to him she walked slowly round the edge of the circle of light looking at him in its centre. She paused for a moment then walked up to him and knelt near his head. He stayed bowed, not daring to look her in the face and see her displeasure. She reached into the cage and stroked his face then took him by the hair and forced his head up. She looked calm, almost radiant, "Thank you," she said eventually, "That was wonderful" and she stood up and started to unbuckle the straps that held him tight against the bars of the cage. She undid his gag and he started to say, "Sorr..." but she shushed him with her fingers on his lips. She undid the catch on the cage and knelt again to help him crawl out, he had almost seized up during his long wait in the cage. She let him stretch a little then turned him around to face the cage. She undid her jacket and skirt and laid them over the cage leaving her high shoes and stockings and a black silk slip. She wasn't wearing underwear. She sat down on the cage and drew her slave between her legs. She made him kneel upright and pulled down the top of her slip so he could kiss her breasts. For a while he kept his hands behind him but soon he took one of her nipples in his mouth and was fondling her gently with is hands. She didn't stop him using his hands but pulled him in closer to her and then guided his mouth to her other breast. He ran his hands over her stomach and thighs, touching her sex gently. He felt her start to move restlessly then she forced his head down between her legs and pulled his face into her by his hair. He licked her with the long slow stokes he knew she liked, reaching up to fondle her nipples. As he felt her tense and start to come he slid a finger into her. Her back arched and she clutched him to her tightly as her orgasm finished and he kept licking until it tickled her and she pushed him away so he sat back on his heels. She got down in front of him and took his key from around her neck. His cock was swollen and aching from being so long in its restraint but he felt it strain even harder as he saw the key on its chain come over her head. She fondled his balls for a while then, fumbling a little in the shadows from the spotlights, found the padlock and turned the key in the lock. The feel of the sheath of the device sliding off his stiffened cock was almost more than he could bear. He helped her get the rest of the device off then sat back waiting for orders – his cock fully erect. She was hungry for it and just had him lean back, bracing himself with his arms before climbing on to him, guiding his cock into herself. She held him tightly, pulling his face into her breasts and slowly slid up and down his shaft. He gritted his teeth and focused on not coming inside her but it was almost too much. He started to beg "Please Mistress, please may I come. I don't think I can hold on." "Yes you can, if you try," she said, "I just want to feel you in there a little longer." She continued to move up and down on him. He was moaning and biting his lip. "Please, please Mistress." He gasped completely unable to resist the orgasm overtaking him. "Yes, you may come," she said, standing up just as he started to spurt. Come sprayed out into the empty cage and even as he shook and gasped with his pleasure he was sure he would be put back inside to lick it up but he didn't care. She stood above him watching him as his orgasm subsided and he pulled himself up to sit straight, still trembling. "Good slave," she said, "You were very good – you would have let me brand you again even after all you had been through, just to let me show you off. I am proud of you. Let's go home now. We can leave the cage and your spunk as part of the exhibition." She helped him to his feet and he tried to pick up the clothes she had discarded but she said, "No, leave them." So he put them down amongst the straps that had held him to the bars and his dismantled cock cage, lying around the cage as a show of their performance for the rest of the exhibition. They went back to the office where she had left her gear. She saw him looking at the branding iron with a sort of horrified fascination, marveling that he had survived it. She sent him out to leave it on the cage with the other discarded gear. He carried it out gingerly, eager to put it down and not have to touch it any more. "Be careful with that," she said, "I will have you branded on the front with it one of these days, you know." And he was too full of pleasure for having pleased her and the future was too far off for him to care. "Yes Mistress," he said and she kissed him on the mouth. She turned out the lights and turned off the camera as she led him downstairs to her car.