0 comments/ 10187 views/ 1 favorites Meeting Master Ch. 02 By: ScottishChieftan He throws his jacket over your shoulders and reaches an arm behind you, wrapping it around your waist as he leads you down the street. Walking amid the scurrying throng of people, you feel a sense of security and protection that all but overwhelms you. Yes, your hands are firmly clamped behind your back and that should make you feel vulnerable, exposed and wary. For some reason though, you feel the exact opposite. You feel as if you are on a pedestal high above the shoving and hustling crowd, like you are beyond reproach and out of the reach of anything that might possibly harm you. This, you realize, is the gift of submission. This breathtaking sense of safety, security and belonging is what your soul has been crying out for. His sense of ownership over you strengthens you, in some odd way. Submitting, is in essence, empowering. You allow him to guide you through the crowd and deep inside of the core of your soul, you revel in his Mastery over you. Coming to stop in front of a hotel, your heart leaps into your throat again, as you realize he is leading you inside. He takes you through the lobby, stopping in the very center of the room. He leans down to kiss you lightly on the cheek and whispers to you, "I'll take back that jacket now". Your heart hammers what feels like a million beats per minute and you know everyone around you can see the handcuffs. You swallow and try to calm yourself and then a feeling washes over you. A feeling that would have been unexpected a day before and that you could never hope to convey to anyone that hadn't been through such a dizzying experience. Pride. You feel proud to belong to him, to be in his control and to know that anyone can see he has his attention centered on no one but you. That is another epiphany that washes over you with the brilliance of a million illuminating suns. You have his complete and undivided attention. Even when he is seemingly ignoring you, he does so intentionally and with great care. Your gift to him is simple. It is your submission and surrender. His gift to you, is even more complicated and far reaching. He gives you much more than you bestow upon him. His gift is unique and with an intoxicating affect, he gives of himself. He reaches his arm around you once again and leads you into an elevator. As the doors close shut with the familiar "thunk", he pushes you gently back into the corner and traps you there. He leans down to kiss you gently and whispers "look at me, little one". You slowly lift your eyes and when you meet his that are burning into you with such intensity, you feel faint from the euphoria of it. His lips close softly onto yours and he gives you a kiss of such gentle and delicate tenderness it makes you go weak in your knees. The elevator hums to a stop and the doors once again slide open as he leads you down the hall and comes to a halt in front of the door of the room. He spins you around with your back to the door and leans down to kiss you passionately and as his arms wrap around you he frees the handcuffs from your slightly aching wrists. Still kissing you, he takes your arms and pins them high above your head, towards the top corners of the door. Helpless and trapped, your heart once again starts to race and then you feel the soothing caress of his hands as he massages away the ache left from the metal cuffs so long clamped onto your wrists. "My GOD", you sigh inwardly, "this man is so much more than I ever imagined." Contentment and peace overtake your body, mind and soul. He reaches behind you and slowly swings the door open and then he pushes you gently into the room. "Enter my lair, slave." His voice seems to rumble from his chest with a near haunting echo. Standing in the open doorway, you wait for your next instructions and are surprised not to hear the door close behind you. His voice once again growls at you, "A sub is not allowed to wear clothing in my lair, little one, not unless I have given her permission." "Neither is she allowed to stand in my presence." You fall quickly to your knees and slide out of your clothes so quickly that you are awestruck when you realize you are nude on your knees in an open doorway and exposed to the world. Your hands fly to cover yourself and just as you do so, you realize the error or your ways. His hand threads into your hair and he gives a firm jerk, tilting your head backwards, but not so rough as to cause great pain. "Did I SAY you were allowed to hide yourself, little slavegirl?" A tremble courses through your naked form and you quietly whisper "no Master, please forgive this girl." He ruffles your hair and leans to gently kiss your forehead. He steps inside and allows the door to close behind him. Darkness overtakes you, the room is still, quiet and totally dark. You feel his hands cup your face and then sigh at his gentle caress on each cheek. He slides something over your head and then a soft velvety blindfold settles onto your eyes. "Stand, little one" his firm voice commands. Quickly you rise to your feet and stand silently awaiting your next instruction. You hear a "click" and then sense faint bits of light probing around the edges of your blindfold. He takes you lovingly by the hand and leads you to the bed. "Sit" is his sole order and you gracefully slide into a sitting position. Then his hands grasp your shoulders and he forces you onto your side and rolls you onto your tummy. You are now lying facedown on the foot of the bed, positioned right on the very edge. As your predicament settles in on you, a million thoughts go through your mind. It was completely DARK when you entered. You have no idea what KIND of room you are in and absolutely no way of knowing if there is anyone else in here with the two of you. "What if he has an audience or is going to try to sneak someone else in on me?" You can't stop that thought from reverberating in your mind. The unknown torments you and then you relax and let absorb the thrill of it. "What if", gets tangled up with "who cares" in your mind. You hear him walk to the end of the bed by your head and a gasp escapes you as you feel padded leather straps fasten onto your wrists. Then he walks to your feet and again the coolness of padded leather straps greets your anxious flesh. Now you are exposed and nude in an unknown room with GOD knows whom or what, on top of that you are firmly bound and helpless, blindfolded and utterly alone. So many emotions toss about your mind that the turbulence is enough to make you dizzy. Fear and excitement battle for supremacy in your chaotic mind. Then you feel soft leather tendrils seemingly float over your skin. His voice explains to you that what you are now feeling is the beginning of a dance between souls. You are learning the feel of leather and the intoxicating rush that can be brought on by the caress of a whip. "This whip", he explains, "is a cat-o-ninetails, and as you can feel it has nine soft fingers of cowhide to seduce your body and mind." He tells you how you will learn to appreciate it's kiss and it's sting as he lightly trails the tickling straps over your feet and up your calves. He drags it up your thighs and wiggles the tails as it nestles into the crevice between your thighs and asscheeks. Then he drags it sloooooowly up and over your ass and the middle of your spine. The soft tendrils drift off to the sides and caress your ribs and the plump edges of your breasts where they are smashed out to the side from lying on your stomach. Then the fingers float to your neck and dance on your throat and back of your neck. Stopping when they are delicately teasing your ears and sides of your face, they slowly reverse and retrace their way back down your body. The process is repeated a few times, all of the while his gentle voice soothes and reassures you. Now he lifts the whip and lightly slaps the straps against the soles of your feet. Then it creeps up your calves. Slap, slap, slap. A rhythmic caress sings to you, the music being provided by the sounds of your flesh kissing the soft leather with a popping sound. Your thighs greet the straps with the same song. Slap, slap, Slap. Your ass sings out in reverie, slap, slap, slap. When the whip dances on your back and wraps around your ribs, the song raises to a crescendo as your soul joins in on the chorus. Up and down your naked flesh, the whip dances and sings. Harder and harder, a sting developing with sensual delight, but certainly not pain. It is a delightful, mesmerizing and soul consuming sting, but isn't what you would call painful. Then you feel his gentle lips close to kiss the little dimple at the top of the crack of your ass. You feel his lips close there and a slight suckling as his tongue caresses the delicate spot. His hands massage and knead your quivering ass and his fingers tease along your inner thighs. Then, he very slowly unties you and rolls you onto your back, then quickly re-fastens the straps. Now you really feel exposed and vulnerable, but it is such a delicious and intoxicating sensation that you just wallow in it. Once again, the soft and gentle voice begins to narrate the dance of your new-found lover, the whip. The song begins with the same hushed tones of soft leather dragging gracefully and elegantly over naked flesh. The tempo builds as the whip sings it's glorious song. Slap, slap, slap. A melodic orchestra of feelings builds inside of you in harmony with the loving ballad being sung by the dancing whip. When the whip kisses your pussy, the music blares so loudly inside of your head it begins to sound more like thunder. Up your tummy, wrapping it's embrace around your ribcage and hips, the whips dances a jig and captivates your spirit. Lightly and with gentle refrain, the music dances around your breasts, over your tight and hardening nipples as it speaks with eloquent and hushed tones on the more delicate pieces of your flesh. On the sides of your throat and over your face, soft fingers tickle and tease and then creep lower to dance with increasing vigor as the crescendo builds. The sensation of the stinging whip on your pubic region and hip is beyond anything you could have imagined. The bliss of the soft tendrils dancing over your swollen pussy defies description. Meeting Master Ch. 02 Chapter 02: Newly Submissive "Gentle? You say I'm gentle even as I'm flogging you?" Master laughed. "Well, maybe not exactly then but overall yes…lol." Sage replied. Master and Sage critiqued the session from the day before. Sage had been nowhere near her pain limits but as it was their very first excursion into the wonderful world of BDSM, Master had no idea what Sage's limits were so he had to ask. The one problem she had, and she would find out later that it was common to new subs, was that she could not marry the pain=pleasure concept. They were two very distinct entities in her mind and her mind was not able to let go of it yesterday. "It will come in time," said Master. "But this is good; I need the feedback from you of what is working and what isn't so I know how to carry on." "Do you want it at the time or after?" "Both. I need to know how close we are getting to your limits or if something doesn't feel right. Afterward, you can tell me how you felt about the whole thing." "Ok, Sir, I'll try. I didn't cry and scream during childbirth though so my reactions may not be the same as someone else's." "That's okay. I'll learn to read you in time too." Master said. This would be the first of many critiquing discussions they had in their relationship. Master needed the feedback from Sage about how it felt, what was good or not so good, how close to her limits they were getting. This way he could adjust his technique for the next time, add something new or use a different toy. He could add a level of pain in one area or lessen it in another. Sage had mentioned before to Master that she didn't like pain and that she would like to concentrate on that issue for awhile. He assured her that it also would come in time and that they would work on it and try to bring it to the same level of pleasure at the sexual parts of their playing. And Sage did like sex. During the two months between meeting Master and declaring her submission, Sage was still dating other men and would continue to do so even after being collared. After leaving her husband in September, she was posted on an online dating site by the middle of October and she felt just like a kid in a candy store. She had to wonder where all these men came from and why she didn't become single years before so she could have been having fun all this time. As soon as she posted her profile she started receiving 6 – 8 emails per day on both sites she listed with. The second site also had an Instant Message screen and she would have to scroll through 100-120 at a time to check them out. It didn't take long with all that attention for Sage to set down her criteria. Firstly, she read the profile and email. If it wasn't well written or if it contained spelling, grammar and punctuation errors, she politely declined any further contact. After all, she figured, if they couldn't spend time and attention on details such as their public profile, they likely wouldn't be the type to spend time and attention on more important things, like her. Between emails and chat, they must be able to carry on a decent, halfway intelligent conversation and have a sense of humour: they needed to possess a brain above the belt. They also must be at least fit, if not athletic or slim. Sage herself was a personal trainer and really was not attracted to fat or un-health. That was one of the ways she realized her marriage was over: her ex was fat, about 80 pounds overweight and she just couldn't bring herself to have sex with him. She thought to herself one day that if she really loved him, that wouldn't matter because love sees through different eyes. It was obvious then that the love was gone. When she married him, he was about 150 pounds at 5'11", not scrawny but wiry and fairly muscular. She loved it and all the perks that came with it like the toned legs, nice ass, defined chest and shoulders. She had that for all of three years. Once he quit smoking the first time he flew up to way over 220 pounds. She remembered the day he saw a picture of himself with his face turned away and gave her shit for having a strange man laying on her couch, and a fat one at that. He started smoking again but only dropped to about 180-190 and it wasn't a healthy drop either: it was still flab. The last 2 years of marriage he quit again and topped out at over 240. Having sex was only bumping bellies and if she was on top, she couldn't even reach either side of him on her knees. Sage herself had not been an angel all the time either. She had also put on weight, over 40 pounds worth in her late 30's after retiring from the military. Her life until then was spent trying to keep weight on. At 110 pounds, even after having two children, Sage was tiny. So the extra weight and size was not only unappealing to her, it also caused health issues. The difference between Sage and her ex was that she didn't like what she had become and so joined a gym to fix it. When they took the initial measurement, she found that was exactly the same size and weight as when she was 9 months pregnant with her son 17 years before. At that time, she remembered feeling thankful that her dilemma was only temporary and she didn't have to stay like that. This time, she just felt disgusted. It took a little over a year to lose her weight the right way so it would stay off. She ended a size smaller than she had been in her 20's but 10 lbs heavier. She was now 120 lbs of solid muscle, strong and fit but not unsightly or steroidal looking. So being fit and intelligent with a really off the wall sense of humour, Sage wanted the same thing in any man she saw. Was that such a bad thing? Not a bad thing no, but difficult to find. From 50 emails would come 10 positive replies although she answered every contact thanking them for stopping by. Maybe 4 of those 10 would progress to chatting. If the chats started out with "u got pics?" she deleted them without a word. If they couldn't talk about anything but their sexual prowess, they got deleted. One day Sage's son's girlfriend told her that she would probably have more success if she stopped talking like she had a cock. They got a huge laugh out of it but it was true. Some guys were so blunt and obnoxious Sage couldn't help being obnoxious right back. The one in particular that sparked K's comment had been crowing about his 9 inch cock for almost a week, telling Sage all the things he's like to do to her with it but not committing to a date. One evening he was pretending she would drop everything and rush over for a quick fuck and he said, "Oh btw, I want a blowjob tonight too." Sage had had enough of his big talk, no action so she replied, "Hey, another thing we have in common – so do I." The guy signed off and was never seen again. "Hah, no loss there," Sage thought. Usually about 1 in 50 contacts made it to a coffee date – a meeting in public to be safe. Not all coffee dates were successful either for one reason or another. The conversation lagged unless it was about sex, the conversation about sex lagged, the guy blatantly lied on his profile about being fit and his beer belly gave him away, or there just wasn't that certain spark. The coffee dates that were successful and led to another more intimate encounter sometimes ended up a one shot deal as well. No matter how much you're attracted to someone and can talk all night, if the sex isn't good there won't be a second time. And it was amazing how people can be sexually incompatible. A long time later, Master came out with the perfect description: "singularly unremarkable". Sage remembered fondly, and will always remember, her first coffee date and the man on the other side of the table. His nick on the site was TT which was meant to imply that he was masterful at cunnilingus. When he approached her online during her second week there and found out she'd only just separated a little over a month before, he yelled at her, gave her holy shit for being there. "This site is full of weirdoes and you are too vulnerable!" It took a while for Sage to assure him that she was just fine, not grieving, not vulnerable, not on the rebound. Her marriage had been dead for a long time and she had been anticipating the separation for almost 2 years and she was the one that did the walking. Then she asked TT if he was one of the weirdoes that was going to prey on her. That clinched the coffee date – that very Sunday on his way home from church. What a sweetheart he turned out to be, and his picture definitely didn't do justice to his smile. It was brilliant and lit up the entire room. When they got together a week or so later, Sage found that he came by his nickname very honestly for he did have a very talented tongue. Sage and TT didn't see each other again for about 6 months but were just as comfortable then as they were the first time. They kept in touch by email every so often and there was never any pressure on either side. Shortly after meeting TT, Sage met G and theirs was a turbulent relationship. They were intimate for about 4 months and remained special friends forever after that. G was married when they met and Sage had a hard time with that at first. But as their friendship grew stronger, she was able to detach herself a bit more and grew to love the man, not romantically but with a deep abiding Divine love. When she met G, he was where she had been the year before: knowing deep inside that the marriage was over but still there, not in denial but the acceptance stage. The hardest part of all. That's where one does their grieving for something that has died and then faces the realization that life has to go on. G picked up on a phrase Sage had used to describe her own last year before leaving. She called it "tactical patience". Make the decision, make all your plans and preparations then when the time is right, leave. Sage wished she had had a close friend to help her through that period. She had close friends yes, and they did help her through yes, but more as a supportive loving team. With G, Sage was more…available is a good word. He knew he could, and did, call her in the middle of the night to talk if the day went badly. He could vent on her, cry on her shoulder, be sheltered within her arms and know that there was honesty and support and caring there. And G helped Sage to heal inside. He provided the handsome male attention, lots of sex, the ear, the shoulder, the massages. She could vent on him too and take shelter in his arms when the going got rough. From him Sage got support and a devil's advocate. From Sage, G got support and the glimpse of what a nasty breakup could be. Just about the time Sage made her declaration of submission to her Master, she was trying to back away from G. He seemed to be getting possessive and a wee bit too serious for her liking. He's already tried to tell her he loved her but she wouldn't allow it. She could understand where he was coming from because she was giving him all that a wife should and that his wife wasn't. But she knew that his love for her was the love of a victim for his saviour. And she didn't love him back, only as a friend. So when G started talking about his future with her in it, Sage got the willies and knew it was time. They stayed very close in person and by phone but the intimacy stopped. Sage got to grieve with him when he told his son what was happening, she got to rejoice with him when he found his apartment, she sent him light on the weekend he was to talk to his wife, she reveled with him in his newfound freedom and she got to congratulate him on his first new girlfriend. They remained special friends, Sage and G, for in each other they had found a kindred spirit. They retained that rare kind of relationship where they could tell or ask each other anything, anything, and get total honesty and acceptance in return. Sage was not so lucky in the other men she saw during that period. She chatted with a lot and went on coffee dates a lot and even managed a few intimate encounters but none were memorable. To top it off she started getting flak from her kids, both biological and strays, and her ex. Her son believed she was out hopping into somebody's bed every time she left the apartment: to go for coffee with a girlfriend, a lawyer's appointment, even when she came home loaded with groceries. Her ex began harassing her because the son was calling her a slut. Sage finally just gave up on all of them; she didn't even bother trying to defend herself. In fact, she laughed one night and said, "Man, I wish I were getting laid even half as much as you think I am." She had never really cared what others thought of her and it was no different now. She could sleep at night and look at herself in the mirror in the morning so she was okay within herself. All the rest could go to hell. Sage found herself changing, becoming freer, more confident. She was a desirable woman again. Inside, as her angels were telling her, was a different story. She was still locked into her tower, hiding her soul away and repelling all their attempts to get through. She had had to do that for awhile in order to heal but her time for self-isolation was through. She needed to start tearing down her walls and let others in, let her angels in. Looking back months later at this stage of her life, Sage felt it was meeting all these new people, learning to live and have fun again, and re-establishing her self worth in her own eyes that helped her to grow. Her tower lasted a while longer for it was strong and built to last – it had had to get her through the past couple years. But she was finally coming to a place in her own mind and heart where she could start to find peace within herself. She was ready to start growing again. Changes were happening in her sexuality as well. She had already started taking down those walls and was discovering a whole new world out there ripe for exploring. And her new Master had her by the hand to lead her through. One day while chatting, out of the blue he asked how she felt about bi-sexuality and did she realize her duties as a sub would require her to be with another woman. Sage said that yes, she realized and was open to the idea. "Great, your task tonight is to tell me about your first bi experience. How you see it unfolding and the role I am to play in it." "Ok, Sir. But this isn't going to happen for awhile, right?" "lol…no, not for awhile." Having absolutely no idea what to expect, Sage tried to dredge up memories of porn films she's watched and looked at pictures on the Internet. Also not knowing how she would react to being present with her first pussy to eat, she decided to fall back on what she did know. She figured that if a woman entered the picture while she was bound and blindfolded, she would have no choice and therefore, no chance to refuse. It was amazing how being tied up and blind makes it so much easier to accept and do things you may not normally do freely. Meeting Master Ch. 02a Chapter 2A: Her First Woman Blind and bound she waits. Master had stepped out after this last round of training. He had given her a drink of water before he left and then set her back up on the bed. It was different this time though. Her head was propped up with arms out and up to fullest extension; her legs were lifted straight and spread wide. There was no spreader bar there but she thought that her ankles were hooked to the same anchor as her wrists. A slight movement and yes, she could feel her feet. Her great flexibility allowed her to relax in these weird positions Master thinks up so she wasn't uncomfortable at all. "And definitely not modest, either." She chuckles to herself. "Quite a view for anyone walking through the door." As if the thought produced the action, she heard the door open and then close. And silence. This didn't alarm her because Master is very quiet anyway. He makes almost no noise at all except to ask if she's okay. She appreciates that he does it often; makes her feel safe. Still silence. No sound of movement even. Then a slight rustle and she felt a weight come onto the bed down at the foot and move upwards, coming closer to her wide open legs. She felt hands on her legs, lightly stroking, long caresses up and around her ankles then down. They stopped at her knee and there were a couple fingers tracing circles on the ticklish spot behind her knee. Around and down, then back and flat palms on her ass. Light dancing at the juncture of her thighs, then back to her ass. Up, down, around went these warm hands, sometimes kneading, sometimes tickling. But always back to her ass. Once she thought she felt feathers flutter across her pussy but then it was gone so fast it could have been a waft of air. She was wet now. She felt the need to squirm, to move, but could not in this position. Then the hands were gone. She imagined she could still feel the light touch. The weight shifted a bit, still in silence. Then, crack! On the left cheek of her ass. It felt like a vicious horsefly bite, but horseflies don't go crack! And another on the right cheek. Then the left side again. Back and forth, slowly, each touch accompanied by a hot burn, the sharpness not having time to fade before the next one came. Her ass felt like it was on fire and she tried to squirm in earnest. As suddenly and silently as it started, it stopped. She knew her ass must be red as a flame hung up there in the air; it sure felt like one. She felt hands again but this time cold and wet. Something cooling and oozy was being rubbed on her stinging ass, and boy! It felt good. The rubbing turned into caresses and fingers started straying. Up along the crease of her thigh, around and across her belly. Back down fluttering over her pussy, just barely touching. Over her still hot ass, the touch, even so gentle and light, still hurt. Not unbearable, the pain was just enough to send her nerve endings into a jitterbug dance. The feather touch became so light that it felt almost like real feathers. Then she realized they were real feathers. She wondered how Master did that, turned his fingers into feathers. Before she could pursue that, even the feathers left. What a weird feeling to go from massaging to pain, burning, through softness caressing to light strokes to feathery tickles to nothing. Every inch of skin, ever nerve cell was confused, twitching, still feeling something not there. And still the silence. There came a tentative touch on her pussy and gone same instant. She might have imagined it except it came again. And again a little firmer. It probed once between her lips as if to confirm what was hidden there. Ah! The fingers were back, stroking lightly the soft skin just outside her pussy lips. No, not fingers: one finger doing a funny tapping up one side then the other. It took a minute for her to realize that it wasn't a finger either but a tongue flicking, small laps like a cat drinking. A long lick between inner and outer lips, and another, as if opening her to view. A gentle poke at the opening and a broad swipe up the middle ending in a tiny hook at the end just on the underside of her clit. She was still very aroused from the training that hadn't allowed her to cum yet, and her clit did a little jump of surprise. Introductions over, the tongue began the conversation in earnest. Up and down, around in circles, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, it never varied in tempo. It kept up a methodical assault on her pussy, flicking, lapping, nipping. There were no fingers anywhere, no other touching at all, serving to concentrate all thought, all sensation on one little area. And it was maddening. A warm hand closing on her breast made her jump. She settled as it began a comfort rub. Breasts, ribs, throat, all around the chest area was rubbed and stroked, nipples were rolled and pinched. With the tiny part of her mind that still had coherent thought she realized a few things. They came in no apparent order but made sense to her at the end. The hand was large and roughish, and so must be Master's. But it was moving angled at the side. Yes, she could feel his weight on the bed beside her. How had he got there without her knowing? Concentrating on that talented tongue between legs, she guessed, and oh! It was driving her mad. So small the tongue and so soft the lips sucking at her pussy. At that, answers and questions came all at once -- soft lips, no beard, can't be Master...then these are his hands up here...then who is down there. But she couldn't keep up any train of thought, her mind was melting, down into the same pool as the rest of her body. The fire on her ass was gone to be replaced with fire in her belly. She could feel the heat and throb and fullness like a boiler ready to explode. She couldn't feel the ropes anymore, couldn't feel the pillow under her head, couldn't feel Master beside her, she was floating. She was off the bed and hovering above herself with the only contact to earth that object that was tormenting her pussy. She could hear nothing, even the sound of her own ragged breathing was silenced. She could see nothing but the tiniest pinpoints of light bursting inside her closed eyes. She could feel nothing, she had no arms or legs or tits or sore ass. She was weightless and formless, blind, deaf. She was a cunt. She had imploded upon herself to where there was nothing left but a cunt. And it was ready to explode, shatter into nothingness, leaving no trace of the being that once was. She was cruelly yanked back toward the earth. Her body twitched and spasmed trying to stay aloft but the thread holding her up had been removed. The tongue was gone. Sinking, she felt abandoned, tantalized and tortured then dropped. There was still a small fire lit but it had moved back up inside to bank and wait. And the silence went on. The bed jiggled as the weights moved on and off and around. Her head and her legs were lowered somewhat and she felt her ass lifted. A soft wedge was placed underneath which really displayed her almost as an offering. She felt the weight on the bed move up toward her. She felt hands on her ass and she recognized them as the ones from her breasts. They were rubbing, kneading, fingers digging in and spreading her even wider. She felt something warm and wet slide up and down and then the finger pushed into her ass. Slowly, giving her time to relax, it rotated back and forth, moving ever deeper. When it was buried to the last knuckle, another mimicked the move into her pussy. Already soaked and smeared, her pussy swallowed the finger immediately. The two digits started a dance, moving together, briefly touching then turning around to waltz off as if to seek another partner. In and out, wiggling and rotating, performing a sensual dance, almost a mating ritual inside her body. A quick waft of warm breath and a mouth descended on her, lips to lips. The tongue joined in to the slow rhythmic movements of the fingers. All three working in unison to fan the embers deep in her belly back into full bright flame. She was burning hot and getting so close to exploding. She concentrated on breathing deeply, relaxing her legs, clenching and unclenching her teeth, anything not to give in. "The Master's Touch" was an apt statement, she was thinking. Guaranteed to bring the strongest down. Finally, and yet regretfully, the torture ended and she knew the unique feeling again of going from totally full to totally empty in an instant. Her ass was mollified in the next moment with a small plug, bring back somewhat the feeling of full. Master wiggled the plug playfully and then the other finger was back. It played too, lighthearted, flicked and tickled, waggled and stroked, snapping against her swollen clit every so often. There didn't seem to be any pressure, she had no desire to cum, no feeling of rising or heating or burning. She just floated as if on a raft of comfort, in heady subspace, with not a care in the world. She felt the bed move farther up and a weight descended on each side of her ribs, and something slid under her upper arms. She felt skin on skin and realized they were feet and legs tucking in. She sensed something lowering toward her face and felt a momentary panic. Then, smelling a sharp sweet tangy sultry salty, she lifted her chin and opened her mouth. Her tongue touched soft silk and warm wet and stayed there a moment, resting on velvet. As she began to explore, her mind spun, a thousand thoughts warring for supremacy and recognition. "Oh my God, I'm eating pussy! Hey, it tastes kinda the same as mine. It's so soft. I wonder who this is. Lips are kind of rubbery...cool. Is the one who ate me? I hope I do this right. What if I do it wrong? Mmmm, this is different. Uh, oh...forgot about my other end. Mmmmm, feels good. I can't do both ends at once! Leave the other end. Sweet taste. I hope I do this right." She tried to remember what the tongue did to her a little earlier coz it felt so good. Down and around, up and flick at the opening. Stop and explore, it's kind of tucked up behind that muscle, gotta stick a point tongue to get in there. She didn't know who was doing that moaning, her or the woman above her. Her face is becoming soaked, smeared with pussy juice. The woman moved gently, rhythmically, but easy to stay with. She suddenly realized that Master had stopped playing with her pussy. He shifted and she felt his cock at her entrance and smiled. The change in her mouth and tongue caused a slight start in the woman but she didn't pull away so it must not have been a bad thing. So she did it again. She made a mental note to remember that trick. She felt Master slide all the way in and begin to move, every thrust jiggling the plug in her ass and causing delicious ripples up inside. She could feel the wet friction of his cock pumping in and out on the thin membrane separating pussy from ass. She thought he must surely feel the pressure of the plug, stroking him from beneath. Master's tempo changed slightly, a little faster, a little harder, reaching that oh so sweet spot on every thrust. The angle she was at caused more friction on the bottom of her opening and more pressure along the top length of her vagina. She could feel the head of his hard cock scraping along the wall as if trying to dig a furrow to ride in. Whatever the reason, Master's hard pumping was having the desired effect. She tried to match his thrusts but could not move her hips, so used her cunt muscles instead. It felt so good to squeeze and release, increase the pressure. Oh, he was so hard it was like trying to squeeze a rock. A rock now pounding her cunt without mercy, his balls slapping against the butt plug, driving it ever deeper. She realized that her mouth had also picked up the increase in tempo and the woman was moaning and rocking above her. So many sensations happening all over all at once and they all felt so good. She felt the woman lean forward and shifted her head to follow, still lapping, sucking, nipping at lips. She felt fingers slide down over her mound, searching and probing. They dipped down into the lake that was her pussy and stroked upward following the smooth track between swollen lips. They dipped again and again until they had smeared juice in a wide arc. They moved quickly but with no urgency all around and down each side. She was clenching fists and straining at the ropes, trying so hard to keep from exploding. She saw stars of all colours bursting behind the blindfold, she heard her heart pounding and blood singing in her ears, she heard a woman's moans and a man's ragged breath, she felt a fire in her belly building to a towering inferno. The woman was quivering, her legs shaking, her ass clenching. From somewhere far away, she heard Master's voice. "Cum with me, sub." At those words, she found the woman's clit hood and nipped it between her lips. Sucking gently, she flicked her tongue out at the hard, swollen clit. She felt the fingers between her legs find her own clit and begin hard circles. Master thrust in hard, harder, deeper. She felt the floating starting again, she was rising out of her body. There was no physicality, only sensation. She was nothing and everything but she was not she. The liquid fire started to rise from her feet and ooze like lava down her legs up to her belly finally to erupt and flow and surround Master's cock with heat and wet. Her cunt pulsed as if to rid itself of this fluid. Master's cock started its own pulsing in time with hers, pumping his own heat and wet deep within her as if trying to put out her fire. The woman ground her pussy down, and she hung onto that clit and sucked and licked until she felt the pussy open above her and release its gush of warm wet onto her face. She gentled her touch on the clit but held on while the cunt opened and closed and opened and closed and the woman bucked. As the woman slowly stilled, she put her lips between the other lips, mouth on other mouth and sucked out the salty sweetness, digging with her tongue to release it all. The woman groaned and went still, Master stayed still buried deep, and she floated back down to earth on a cloud of satiety, gently this time, safe. The woman collapsed then, her whole weight resting on the cum-smeared face below. Master seemed to collapse and leaned forward. They met and held each other up, resting for a moment. And the silence reigned once more.