0 comments/ 33245 views/ 0 favorites Down The Garden Path Ch. 1 By: _lisa_ The assignment had a broader scope than her previous ones. She was to write every fantasy she could think of for Him, and particularly focus on those which could be enacted. She had one week, from the time He gave the assignment, and her initial excitement and happiness at his interest in her private thoughts had begun to give way to a realization of the effort involved in such an undertaking. She had written for herself since childhood, and briefly entertained thoughts of being "a writer" in her late adolescence, but now, more than 20 years later, she had doubts about her ability to recreate the world in words. She still kept a journal sporadically, and had begun writing erotic stories a few months prior to being given her current assignment. Her lover, the catalyst for her return to prose, enjoyed reading her stories, but He was a main character in them. How could He not be flattered and positively disposed toward such tributes? With His permission, she posted them on a couple of websites that specialized in erotica. Her close friends made encouraging comments, but of course they would. They were her friends and would not wish to hurt her feelings, even if they thought her work was in the mediocre range of that produced by other amateur aspiring pornographers. Whatever doubts she entertained were pushed to the back of her mind as she sat in front of the keyboard now. She had promised to complete His assignment in the time given, and she had five days left. She would have to work diligently today, Easter Sunday, and after work each day until Friday to do her best for Him. She would not consider doing any less for her Dominate lover and erotic muse. Many years ago, she read My Secret Garden, the famous compilation of women's sexual fantasies, and was struck by the elements of her own "secret garden" she found in the scenarios presented. There was some of everything, soft-focus romance, wanton lust, seduction, group sex, power exchange, and all orientations; het, bi and lesbian. Now it was time for her to present her own garden to her lover. * * * * * * I. Her years of great sex were over in her early thirties, she had believed. Her once-happy marriage had ended in anger, frustration, bankruptcy and divorce. She had been contentedly monogamous with her husband for the entire decade they spent together. Her fantasy life continued during that time, but was populated by fictional characters only. To have thought "that way" of anyone she actually knew would have felt disloyal and wrong to her. Not that her husband would have cared who inspired her, so long as the desires were fulfilled in their bed, but she could not get past her feelings of guilt about "mental infidelity". Things were entirely different in her life now, and she was amazed to find that, in spite of having lost much of her youthful beauty, she had gained a degree of confidence and sexual sophistication that made her more appealing to the type of 40-something men she had desired in her teens and twenties. And then she found the world of real life power exchange enthusiasts through the Internet, and knew she would never return to the vanilla world she had once thought was so great. Her current lover, Talon, was her favorite Dominant thus far in her journey into the thrilling experience of sexual submission. Sometimes, a casual touch on her arm from him felt like an electrical jolt which went straight to her pussy, and she would feel herself growing damp immediately. He enjoyed toying with her lust in public, whispering sexy things in her ear at dinner parties, surreptitiously pinching a nipple or allowing her to feel the beginning of his erection as he pressed against her in a crowd. One thing she had discovered very early on with Talon was that, even without any physical contact, the sound of His voice triggered an intense sexual response in her. The first time he Dominated her sexually, she stayed on the edge of orgasm until he gave her permission to fall over, in the form of a command. Ever since, with only his words, he could move her at light speed toward the ecstatic release she craved. He had mentioned to her in an email that he had sent her a package the previous day, so she was not surprised to find a small, rectangular box awaiting her after work. When she removed the brown paper wrapping, she found a cassette tape in a translucent gray acrylic box. The label had been printed on his computer, in "papyrus", the font he often used when they would chat at night. She smiled as she read the label through the smoked plastic, "listen while Alone" She was glad that her job both began and ended early, so her son was not yet home from school. She couldn't wait to see what Talon wished her to hear. She stripped off her conservative white cotton sweater while going into the dresser drawer for her walkman and headphones. She laid the machine and its accessory on the bathroom counter as she kicked off the black leather mules and dropped the long black skirt to the floor, where it was soon followed by her pantyhose. A shower could wait, she thought, as she inserted the tape into the walkman, put on the headphones and pressed "play". In her underwear only, she returned to the dresser to put on a pair of loose knit pants and a sweatshirt. The faint hiss during the silent part at the tape's beginning was replaced by her lover's voice. She jumped slightly when she heard "Hello, slutkitty. I am going to give you some instructions, and you are to do as I say, right now. If you are not alone, turn off the tape and return to it when you are alone." There was a brief pause, and then the familiar voice returned. "Good, now we can begin, and know, My kitten, that as I recorded this for you I was imagining you now, hearing my words. You are fulfilling my fantasy at this moment, and you will continue to do that until I instruct you to stop." She felt the familiar rush of excited anticipation, wondering what He would require of her. "You will now touch your breasts, through your clothes. When the nipples begin to harden, you will reach under your clothes, and pinch them, making them harder and larger and more sensitive for me." She complied, imagining His hands had replaced her own as they moved under her sweatshirt and then inside her bra. "Yes, that is very nice, dear. You have lovely nipples that I greatly enjoy sucking and biting, and I know they are ready for my attention right now, aren't they?" "Yes, Sir", she whispered, closing her eyes and sitting down on the side of her bed. "Now, I want you to release your breasts for the moment, and make yourself comfortable in a chair, or you may lie down, if you wish" he continued. She swung her legs onto the bed and pulled an extra pillow under her head. "I know you are wet for me now, kitten. I want you to think about my hands on you, exploring your body in any way I desire." She sighed, remembering times he had done just that with her bound, or when she was held in place by just His instruction not to move. He could play S & M at a level that pushed a novice like herself, but he was also much more the sensualist than the sadist. Every strike was balanced by more than one caress, and the pain and pleasure enhanced each other until she was gloriously unable to distinguish one from the other. "Now, move your legs apart slowly. I want you to slide your hands down your body. Feel how warm you are right now. Cup both your hands around your pussy and hold it for a moment. Feel the way you feel to me." She was warm, as he had known she would be. The gentle pressure of her palms curving over the mound made her tingle with desire. She felt her heat and the springy softness of flesh under her hands. "Take off your clothes now, and caress yourself all over for me. Start with your face, then your neck, your chest…that's right, dear, keep moving down your body until you reach that beautifully wet pussy." She arose from the bed long enough to quickly remove her clothing, then returned to her previous position, pulling only a sheet over her naked body. "Play with your clit now, kitten. Make it swell for me. I love to feel you so wet and swollen and ready for me" "Yes, Sir", she whispered, slipping into the fantasy of his presence. Her clitoris was aching to be touched and she shivered when her finger made initial contact. She stroked the very tip with the pad of her index finger, and moaned her lover's name. "Yes, that is good. Start slow and build it up. Excite yourself for me. I will tell you when you have permission to orgasm." His taking charge of her pleasure was one of their favorite games. She loved being taken to the edge and kept there, not allowed to either back away or fall into the release her body so craved. She slid a finger down between her inner lips, to the opening. With both hands, she pulled the lips apart and felt the cooling air on her vagina. "When you are ready, I want you to slide 2 fingers into your pussy, fast. I want you to think about my hard cock inside you." There was a brief silent period on the tape, then his voice returned, both coaxing and commanding, "Do it, do it right now! Take that wet cunt for me, slut!" She felt herself lubricating even more just before she pushed both fingers into her pussy. The burst of excitement that entry produced make her gasp and her pelvis tilted up to swallow the digits to a greater depth. "Please, Sir, please", she breathed, her fingers thrusting like his cock now while her other hand moved over her erect nipples and her clit, stroking and pinching in time with the thrusts. As if hearing her, he replied "Now! Come for me!" Her body immediately responded with wave after wave of overwhelming sensation. "Feel it all for me, kitten, all over your sexy body, from your toes all the way up and up and through your pussy and through your clit and all the way to the top of your head. That is right. You know how to take the pleasure I give you, kitten. Take it all…" After her tremors had died down, she realized that she still had the headphones on, and smiled. Just as she reached for the walkman's "off" switch, his voice, returned, barely above a whisper through the wires, "You will sleep soon, kitten, and soon, you will sleep in my arms again." She waited a short time, heard no more, and turned off the tape. She pulled up the blanket, rolled onto her side and fell into a blissfully peaceful sleep. * * * * * * II. She dreamed of her lover. They were in the public dungeon where they sometimes played. Only a few other couples and singles were in the room, and no one was scening as yet. She recognized a few of the people, but most were not known to her waking mind. He said "There is something I need to do with my kitten now." She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. "Go to the last room on the right and wait for me. I'll be there in a few minutes." was his only clarification before he kissed her forehead lightly and walked toward the social area, the opposite direction from the room where he was sending her. She followed his direction and entered the room off the far right corner of the main dungeon space. It was her favorite, decorated in a Goth/medieval style she thought of as quintessentially BDSM. The St. Andrew's cross in the center of the room had been stained a deep brown and a wrought-iron light fixture hung a few feet above it. To her right, the black stocks stood, waiting for wrists and a neck to fill their openings. On the wall to her left, there was a large wooden frame across which a loosely-woven rope grid was hung. The hexagonal cage stood near the back wall, it's black metal bars looking like they had been salvaged from an Old West jailhouse. She wondered what he had in mind for her. They both enjoyed playing in this room, and she had taken her first caning from him on the cross in here. She smiled at the memory, wondering if he would wish to repeat that scene tonight. They had not yet used any of the other furniture in the room, though she had thought it might be fun to be a bad colonial girl in the stocks sometime. Perhaps he would be her Puritan minister and act on the Biblical exhortation not to "spare the rod". She was giggling at the silly thought when he entered the room, toy bag in hand. "Yes, dear? Something amused you?" he asked. "Yes, Sir. I was imagining myself as a bad Pilgrim girl being corrected by Parson John." she replied, grinning mischievously. He smiled broadly and said "it might take more than one preacher to redeem you, my slut kitten. But it would be fun to try." He set his bag on the bench just inside the door and motioned for her to come to his side. He opened the bag and removed the top layer of spanking devices, a broad, flat hairbrush, strips of leather and suede of various widths, wooden paddles. She watched and waited and wondered what would follow. "Take off your dress now" he instructed and she complied, folding the purple velvet and laying it on the bench by his bag. " I am going to blindfold you now, and finish undressing you" he said. She closed her eyes as he lowered the blindfold, and felt the soft fur lining against her eyelids. Her arms were at her sides, and he took her hands, lifting them to his shoulders and then holding her partially-nude body against him for a moment. His hands traveled to the back of her bra, unhooked it, and then he took a step away from her to slide the straps down her arms and remove the bra. She had done as he required, forgoing her usual underwear and pantyhose to wear a black thong and matching thigh-high stockings. The bra discarded, he now ran his palms from her shoulders down to the rounded curves of her ass. She shivered, more from the tactile pleasure of his touch on her bare skin than the slightly cool temperature in the room. "Very nice, dear. Now, I am going to lead you across the room. Just hold onto my arm." he said, placing her hand on his forearm and taking a step forward. She followed, anxious to learn what was to transpire tonight. After a few steps, he stopped, and removed her hand from his arm. He placed it against one of the horizontal bars of the cage. "I am going to lock you in here for a time, kitten. I want you to feel your submission and the pride I take in dominating you. I will never be far away, though you may think you are alone. Can you do this for me?" A chill of both excitement and fear went through her at the thought of being left alone, confined and without the reassurance of sight. She was torn between her desire to please him and her deep-seated fear of abandonment. "You won't leave me for very long, will you?" she asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. "No, kitten, I will always be near. I want you to trust me now. Nothing bad will happen." She heard the door of the cage open with a faint squeak and knew that, whatever her reluctance, she would do as he asked of her. He took her hand, moved her a step to the left. "Now, take a little step up, dear", he continued, guiding her into the cage. She felt the cool metal floor on the soles of her feet through the nylon stockings. "Turn around", he said, releasing her hand. As she turned, she heard the door close and latch. "I want you to hold onto the bars in front of you. Think about what I have done. I have placed you here for the pleasure I get from displaying my slut for everyone to see. Unless you use your safe word, you will stay here for as long as I choose. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sir. I understand." she whispered, her hands wrapped tightly around the bars in front of her. "Good. Just stay calm, and I will return in a moment" he said, and she heard his footsteps as he left the room. She tried not to think of his absence, and concentrated on keeping her breathing deep and even, in spite of her racing pulse. More than once, they had talked about doing this sometime, but she had not thought about it recently and was not expecting it tonight. She listened to the faint sounds of floggers striking skin in the main space, and thought she heard whispers from the direction of the doorway. She was grateful not to be able to see those who might be looking in at John's caged kitten. "Yes, come in", she heard him say, and heard a man's voice she did not recognize reply, accepting his invitation. "I am quite pleased by my slut's obedience and responsiveness", he went on. "Watch." He was next to the cage now, by the sound of his voice and she waited for whatever instruction he might wish to give her. Instead, he reached through the bars and caressed her bare breasts, gently pinching the nipples as they grew hard. "Very nice", she heard the other man comment. "Feel free to pet my kitty cat, if you wish", her lover replied, and she felt another pair of hands moving up her left thigh, then circling her ass. "Please go on. I will be right back." he said. She wanted to call out to him not to go, but she bit her lip and remembered his promise not to leave her for long. The unknown man's hands had been moved to her right thigh now, one on the front and one on the back, moving in slow circles from knee to hip. True to his word, her Sir returned only a few minutes later, and again made his generous offer to someone else. This time, she felt the dull edge of long fingernails and knew it must be a woman who was touching her. "What a fortunate girl, Sir" a female voice said while using her nails to flick kitten's hard nipples. "Oh, yes, she is tonight, isn't she?" her lover replied with a slight chuckle in his voice. "Lisa, my slut, are you enjoying this?" he asked. She was surprised to be called by name and spoken to directly, but found her voice after a second's hesitation, and replied. "Yes, I am, very much, thank You, Sir". As the dream went on, more hands found their way through the bars and against her skin. She felt her mind drift into a place beyond linear, rational thought. She became a sensual receptor, taking in every tactile sensation, hearing even the slightest sound of breathing or movement beyond the bars. He told her not to think of anything but how much pleasure she was giving him and those he allowed to touch her. "Now, when I tell you to, you will come, hard, just like you do when we are alone.", he said to her in a low voice. The hands which had been exploring her body seemed to fade away, and she heard the latch of the cage door opening. Her lover's familiar touch replaced that of the unseen men and woman, as he removed her tightly curled fingers from the bars of the door before opening it. "Step down", he said, guiding her through the door. Her feet were on the carpet again as he wrapped his strong arms around her and leaned down to whisper into her ear "Come for me, now!" Dream and reality merged as her body obeyed his command. When she awoke, she was calling his name and riding the aftershocks of the orgasm. She wondered how she would be able to wait another day to see him, and then smiled after seeing the walkman lying on the pillow next to her. "Perhaps the time will go quickly after all" she thought. * * * * * * III. Her journey into BDSM really began when she was a child, and found "certain" things strangely powerful in their appeal to her. The escape artists on The Ed Sullivan show kept her transfixed as they were bound beyond all hope of escape and yet still managed to free themselves. Sometimes she would look at, and later, read, from the World Book encyclopedias that had the honor of their own shelf in the living room. Often, she picked a volume randomly and let chance determine what she would learn from the pages. On one such exploratory day, she chose the "A" and began flipping through the last half of it for something interesting. She saw it near the end, with a long illustrated article about The Aztecs. Down The Garden Path Ch. 1 Although she knew that they were the rulers of Mexico prior to the Spanish conquest, and that they had a religion which included human sacrifice, she had not given any substantial thought to how their rituals were conducted. Her attention was caught by a primitive-style painting of a human sacrifice, and she began reading. It was both horrible and irresistible, imaging the victims being paraded to their bloody demise, up the steep steps of the temple. No swift, mechanical guillotine for the executions which would make the sun continue to shine. The priests used a dagger to cut out the victim's beating heart. In the painting, the victim appeared to still be alive, but the priest held the heart high above the body from which it came. She did not like blood at all, and was terrified of doctors because of the periodic immunizations they had given her. Still, something about the picture, and the description of the rituals leading up to the moment of death fascinated her. She looked at the picture and read the article many times over a period of several months. She tried to imagine climbing the steps, lying on the altar, wrists and ankles held by the assistant priests while the dagger was raised above her. She imagined it as a willing submission to a predestined fate, as opposed to a murder. The aspect of complete surrender, gave her the same sort of thrill she first knew while watching the aspiring Houdini's being bound. Of course, the Aztecs were not about entertainment, and escape was not an option for their victims, but, as she realized many years later, it was the extreme power dynamic that spoke to her. Now that she was long-past her childhood, she had friends in "the scene" and could finally indulge her submissive sexual desires without fear of being labeled "sick" or, even worse, thinking of herself in pathological terms. She loved the fetish attire, the open attitude about one's sexuality and the thrill of being both a voyeur and an exhibitionist in the dungeons. Most of the scenes were at least moderately interesting to her, a few enthralling, and a very few were beyond the boundaries of things she wanted to see. Needles, sutures, cutting, anything that fell into the "blood sports" category was on her list of hard limits to do and soft limits to even watch. If a companion really wanted her to see something that involved opening the skin, she could, but she would rather not. Over the past two years, she had learned how a "never" could go to a "maybe", the "maybe" to a "yes", and the "yes" to a "please". However, she had continued to shy away from anything that involved cuts or punctures. She was relieved when Talon told her that he had no desire to take their play in that direction. She knew she would not refuse to do virtually anything he would ask of her, and she most definitely did not want to see, or feel, her skin being broken. After a few months, she found herself fantasizing about being "marked" by her lover in more lasting ways than the purple stripes made by his rattan canes. Unlike many of her fellow S & M practitioners, she had stayed away from tattoos and the only parts of her body that were pierced were her earlobes. Now, she enjoyed imagining herself getting a hood piercing, with him standing beside her, telling her it was only a moment of pain in exchange for hours of pleasure for both of them. The challenge of her fear, and the desire she had to push herself beyond it made the fantasy all the more thrilling to her. She did not know whether she could ever go through with it in reality, or if she really wanted to, but the daydream had become a permanent fixture in her fantasy repertoire. In spite of his very accepting attitude about all things safe, sane and consensual, she felt afraid to say much to him about this particular thought. Whether she was afraid of his lack of interest or just uneasy with her own fantasy, she did not know. At a party, they had played Truth or Dare and his question was what he would like to do that he had not yet done. She was looking at him, but still jumped when he snapped open the switchblade she found so erotic when they did knife play. He smiled at her reaction and then said that he would like to take knife play farther and do superficial cutting. She was both thrilled and surprised, given his earlier comments about needle play. She had thought he meant that nothing in the blood sport realm held any appeal for him. Now, she had a very different view, and another fantasy. After the warm-up spanking, he would shift the scene into knife play. She would close her eyes and feel the flat side of the cool metal blade move over her face, neck and breasts. Then he would draw faint pink lines with just the point, vertical, horizontal, and curved, like the lines on a roadmap. The knife made scratches without breaking the skin, yet it felt just a fraction closer to drawing blood each time. She was not bound, just positioned as he wished and told to remain that way. She began to long for the burning pain of a cut, the chance to go somewhere new to both of them. She focused her mind on his power over her in this type of play, literally life and death. Each time the sharp edge was dragged over her skin, she felt as if she was climbing those ancient pyramid steps, offering herself not to the priests and the Sun, but to her Dominant lover and their mutual desires. "Your skin is mine, kitten," he whispered to her. "Tell me what you want right now." She took a breath to speak, then hesitated. "Tell me, kitten. Do not stop to think, just let it come out." His left hand slid between her legs, feeling how wet she had become. He moved his fingers to the entrance of her pussy, and stopped. She tried to move against him, and he took the tantalizing fingertips away. "No, dear, you have to tell me", he said. "Sir, please, go on. Do it. I want you to cut me", she said. His palm traveled down her ass again, and stopped between her legs. "And you want to come, too, don't you, slut?" he said, as he thrust two fingers deep into her. She cried out from the sudden entry, and the pleasure it brought. She knew she could come immediately, if given the command, but she also knew she would not be allowed to feel the orgasm until he ordered it. The knife was moving over her back again, and her attention was divided between the fingers she held in a steamy internal embrace and the erotic danger of the weapon in her lover's other hand. "When I tell you to let go, I want you to forget everything but how your body feels at that moment, kitten. You can go anywhere you want, and I will be here with you." he intoned, and began to move his fingers slowly out and then back into her pussy. "This is how I want you, my slut, open and wet and ready for any sensation I choose to give you." She felt the pressure continue to build, waiting on his permission for release. The speed of his thrusts had increased, as had the speed with which he was moving the knife blade over her back. When she began to fear that she would lose control, he gave the order. "Come, now!" The orgasm was both long and intense, and his fingers were buried in her throughout. Still riding the waves, she felt a sting between her shoulder blades, followed by another, and then another. "You are mine" he said each time, and she knew that she was his, completely, at that moment. Even the burning pain she was vaguely aware of now was blissfully erotic. They had crossed the boundary together. Down The Garden Path Ch. 2 "I want to know all about you" her lover had said, when giving her his most recent writing assignment. She was thrilled at his interest in her thoughts and fantasies, and, in spite of the work that she would have to put in to meet his deadline, five days from today, she could hardly have been happier. In addition to the pleasure of complying with his wishes, she was glad to be reconnecting to parts of herself which she had sealed away some years ago after a bad relationship. Sex with the man she now thought of as only "the psycho ex" had been hot, often, and kinky, but everything else had been as bad as the sex was good. By the end of the relationship, she did not want to even think of some of her previous kinky fantasies. But, for all the down sides to the passage of time, it had one wonderful aspect. It did heal wounds. Sometimes the scars were still visible on close inspection, but memories of the injuries which caused them had long since faded. "After all," she thought, "I own my imagination, and no one can take it from me. They can't steal my joy." Her life was very different now than it had been during her earlier S & M experimentations. She had learned a great deal in the past two years, and knew she had barely begun her journey into the shadow sensuality of power exchange. John embraced a part of her psyche that had always been there, but very rarely acknowledged, much less understood, by others. That he would ask her for her thoughts and dreams filled her with joy, as did the work of preparing them for his reading pleasure. * * * * * I. "Go upstairs. Strip, and wait for me", her lover said only moments after she entered his home. As much as she enjoyed their sexual relationship, she was rather taken aback that he would be so abrupt with her. She had not seen him for the past two weeks and had expected a more gradual build-up to physical intimacy. She enjoyed the time they spent talking and sitting together, reconnecting before a scene. However, she would never consider disobeying him. She climbed the stairs without attempting any further conversation. His room was dark, but she could see well enough from the indirect light of the hall fixture to be able to remove her outer clothing and hang it on the robe hook inside his door. She had worn a red bra and thong that he was particularly fond of, so she had hoped he would see her disrobe, but he obviously had other plans tonight. She sighed, smiled, and unhooked her bra. The straps came down her arms, and she removed it, freeing her full breasts. The thong followed, and she put both of them on the lid of the black trunk he used for his toy collection. "At least he will see them", she thought, with a grin. Other than to "wait", he had given her no instructions, and she wondered what her next move should be. Being naked always made her feel self-conscious, even when she was alone. Somehow she had never gotten over her uneasiness with nudity, even though she had done scenes in next to no clothing at play parties for the past year. This was not the same, though. In private, with her lover, she would be the center of attention from the person whose opinion she most cared about. It was a daunting prospect. She listened for his footsteps, and looked through the open bedroom door to see if he was on his way to her. She hated having to be so close to him without being able to see or touch him, and patience was not her strong point. "Kitten, turn away from the door, and close your eyes" he called up the stairwell to her. She was relieved. The waiting would become a torment in a matter of minutes if he ignored her entirely. She turned to face the far corner of the room, eyes closed, and clasped her hands together behind her back. The vibration of his approaching steps through the sub floor and carpet made her shift from sexual desire to lust. She was wet, ready for him, for anything he wanted from her. Her ego began the slide into spiritual submission to another. He was in the room, now, close behind her. "Very pleasing, dear", he said in a calm, even voice. Her body felt the electrical tingle that branched out in all directions from its source, her wet and ready pussy. A shiver of need raced over the surface of her skin a moment before he reached around her from behind and stroked her breasts with the flat palms of his hands. Her nipples were erect immediately, and he gave both of them a light tug between his thumb and forefinger. "I have plans for you tonight, slutkitten." he continued. "I am going to take everything I want from you." Hearing his words triggered a lightening bolt of raw need from within the center of her body. "Yes, thank you, Sir," she replied. His hands left her breasts, and he grasped her wrists. He returned them to the front of her body, then into the position he preferred, behind her neck. "You may open your eyes. Now, walk to the bed, and sit on the edge", he instructed. She felt awkward, walking with her arms bent and above her shoulders, but she did as she was told. "Good, move forward, so you are on the edge", he said. She scooted as far toward the edge as felt safe to her, and put her feet flat on the floor for balance. "Yes, that is right, dear. Open your legs for me now." She complied. "A little more", he went on. "You won't fall off the bed. I will make sure of that." Again, she did his bidding, and he smiled. "There, stay like that until I tell you to move." He was still completely dressed and that made her feel even more exposed and submissive to him. He stood directly in front of her for a moment, then turned away and opened the black leather bag which had been removed from the trunk at some earlier time. She expected, and hoped, that he was getting the leather wrist cuffs for her to wear. For whatever reason, she found those to be among her favorite things, both to wear and to see others wearing. Wrists ready to be bound, encircled by wide strips of dark leather with bright metallic buckles and d-rings, were practically a fetish to her. Before he turned around to face her again, he said "We are going to do some new things tonight, kitten, things I know you have thought about before. You know you are always allowed to use your safe word and that I will always respect it, but try to remember that I will never harm you in any way and go with the sensations and the thoughts they give you. Will you do that for me?" "Of course, Sir, I trust you and always try to do whatever you want", she replied. "Yes, I know you do, kitten." he said, turning to face her again. In his hands, she saw not the wrist cuffs she had hoped for, but a roll of duct tape. For a split second, she felt true fear, as she flashed on the many nonconsensual uses she had seen the tape put to in television police dramas and murder mysteries. She did not make a sound, but he saw the flash of fear and looked at her quizzically. "You will be alright with trying this, dear?", he asked. " I promise not to do anything you can't handle. Just relax, and we will begin." She was embarrassed to have let her moment of doubt show, and could not meet his eye when she whispered that she was fine with whatever he might wish to do. He stroked her face with his free hand, then knelt on the floor in front of her, getting an intimate view of her exposed pussy. "Very nice, and very wet, kitten. That is good." he said, as he laid the roll of tape on the bed and ran both his hands up the insides of her legs, from knee to upper thigh. His fingertips moved over her smooth and hairless skin, toward the full outer lips. He pulled them apart, exposing her inner lips to his view. She felt her physical tension building, and silently willed him to go on, to touch her more intimately. He ran an index finger up the deep pink folds of exquisitely sensitive flesh. At the top, just shy of the clitoris, he stopped. She wanted to beg him to keep going, but reminded herself that he was in charge, and remained silent. "Yes, this is how I like your pussy, open, ready to take me in", he said, opening the lips again, pulling them farther apart than before. "This is how you will stay for me", he continued, releasing her to reach for the roll of silver tape. Her eyes grew wide, realizing what he intended to do, but she did not protest. He tore off a piece of tape, about six inches long and stuck the corner to the wrought iron headboard of the bed. He tore off a matching piece, laid the roll back on the bed, and appeared to be thinking for a few seconds. "I will have better access for this with you on your back, dear. Lie on the bed, with your feet toward the headboard." She repositioned herself as instructed and waited for further direction. "Bend your knees and open your legs" he said. Her legs fell open in the position she had used during masturbation throughout her adolescent years. "Good. This will work well" he said, scrutinizing her intimate accessibility. His left hand re-opened the outer lips, and his right hand positioned the strips of tape in such as way as to holdher open. She had thought that his plan might not work outside the fantasy realm, particularly given how wet she always got with him. However, the adhesive worked well, and she was soon held open by only the tape. The air felt cool on her warm and wet pussy and she could feel the labial skin stretch with the slightest movement. "Perfect, kitten, you look exactly the way I wanted you to." he said to her, smiling, pleased with his handiwork between her legs. "This will be very nice for me to play with tonight, when I am not busy with other things." He licked his right forefinger, took it in his mouth, and drew it out slowly. The wet fingertip skated around the flooded entrance to her vagina. Her hips tilted upwards, trying to pull him in, but he denied her that pleasure. He knew that the pleasures she earned were the ones they both valued most. She needed the challenges he could provide, and she was only too happy to serve his every sexual need in order to have the opportunity to experience them. "Now, to secure the rest of you the way I want you…" he began, rising from the bed to retrieve both sets of bondage cuffs from his bag. He put them on her ankles first, and she began to daydream of times past while he buckled the straps tight enough to make them snug, but not uncomfortable. "Put your hands above your head", he told her. He then attached the smaller black leather cuffs around her wrists. As he buckled them, she thought of the intensity she had found with her Dominant lover, and smiled, both at the memories, and the anticipation of ones they would be creating today. * * * * * II. If she had stopped in the middle of a scene with John, slammed on the breaks with a safe word, she would never have gone as far into the altered state of masochistic bliss. She could turn herself into the hero, the one who could backup her words. In her mind, she became one with her Top, his co-conspirator in a highly charged dramatic performance. Somehow, by the end, she longed for physical proof of their cathartic voyage in the shadows of their psyches. The first time he caned her, he pronounced her a purple tabby kitten, and she began to conceive of wanting to be owned. There was sharp, sudden pain on the way there, but she had never felt more like a scene was "right". That night, a few minutes after he guided her to rest in his arms at the foot of the St. Andrew's cross, she thought the scene was over. He continued.. She rose willingly, still floating on a psycho-sexual high, held the smooth painted arms of the apparatus. The pain was there, but it was not important to her. Her focus was on giving herself to Talon, letting him make full use of her for their mutual gratification. When the cane had finally stopped falling on her red and bruised ass, he gave the command for her to come, and the power of both the orgasm and dopamine released into her system during play took her down. He lowered her body to the floor, placed a cushion under her head, then reclined with her. She curled into him like a wild animal seeking its mother. There was nothing else in her world at that moment. She was at peace. * * * * * III. He was tying a long, white rope around the bars at the foot of the bed when her thoughts returned to the present time and place. He gave the free end a test jerk, appeared satisfied, and threaded the rope through the D-ring on her left wrist cuff. He took the rope back to the foot piece of the bed, and tied it there. He repeated the process with another length of rope and her right wrist. He took a step back, and looked admiringly at his bondage work in progress. "Very nice, slut," he whispered, then produced two more pieces of rope, which she surmised would be used to secure her ankles. The headboard had larger bars that the footboard, and she expected him to use them to immobilize her legs in a way similar to what he had just done with her arms. This time, he tied each length of rope through the D-rings first. With one hand under her calf and one holding the loose ends of the thick nylon cord, he lifted her left leg and looped the rope through the bars at the end of the bed near where her arms had been secured only minutes earlier. He followed with her right leg, and she found herself completely exposed before him, bound with her legs apart and her open pussy higher than her head. She pulled at the ropes, not to escape, but to test her range of motion in such an unusual position. It was severely limited. She waited for her lover's next move.