4 comments/ 11729 views/ 2 favorites SubSpace By: Lady Firewalker Her Mistress was angry. She couldn't remember what she had done, but she was being punished for it now. She was blindfolded and placed on the edge of a stool. Her wrists locked onto either side of a three-foot dowel, hoisted above her head and stretched until her shoulders ached. Her legs were cuffed at the thigh and tied to the wall behind her so that her sex was exposed and opened. Her skin becoming more sensitive, she could feel the gentle movements of the air, its touch caressing her. She felt herself awaken. A quiet moan escaped her lips as the heat of her submission began to over take her. How long had she been there? She was falling deeper and deeper into the blessed darkness. Loosing her sense of self. A warm gentle breeze blew over her, stirring her hair. Her skin so sensitive the breeze felt like fire. She wanted to move. She wanted to turn to be where the breeze would blow over her, through her. The soft caress of the wind making her skin ache for Mistress's touch. Her breath slowing down, becoming deeper, more ragged as she imagined Mistress's fingers caressing her. Her hot breath on her neck. Her hands cupping her breasts. She bit her lip to avoid any sound from escaping. Yet she couldn't dismiss the feelings. Was she really imagining that? Was the soft barely discernible touch the wind or was it Mistress's breath? The faint touch of skin on hers, the gentle stirring of the fine hair on her aching arms. The heat from Mistress's body, so close, made her catch her breath. She released it shakily as she felt lips touch her neck ever so gently. Hands caressing her arms, massaging her aching shoulders as the bar was lowered just enough to allow them to relax a little. Her body shaking all over, the soft caresses continuing down her arms, over her chest between her breasts and over her stomach. Faintly touching her, teasing her sensitive skin. Tormenting her, the hands never touched where she needed to be touched. They moved over her stomach and down to her aching thighs. Traveled over the top of her dark mound, stirring only her hair. Moving down her legs to her feet and then back again, carefully avoiding the areas that needed the most attention. Building her passion. Unable to move, the torment increased. The hands were soon followed by searing hot breath as they moved over her captured body. She moaned and received a light kiss for it. The hands moved to her back and lips gently descended onto her belly. She could feel the warm body between her legs and couldn't reach it. She was shaking with desire and longing. Each touch softer than before. Each kiss warmer and wetter on her skin, burning into her flesh. Hot breath on her sex, and yet no contact. She attempted to arch her back to get closer to those lips and was unable to move. Moaning, pulling at the bonds that held her in place. Her need to put her arms around her Mistress and show her what she wanted was overwhelming. Just when she though she would scream, the hands were gone. The lips were removed from her skin. Tears welled up in her eyes with frustration and over flowed into her blindfold as she was left alone again. Tormented by the ghostly feel of her Mistresses caress. Leaving her desolate, falling back into the darkness alone and waiting. Her breathing slowing. Her shoulders shaking as much as from her crying as from the ache of being in one position for so long. Suddenly her nipples were on fire. She screamed as she struggled to move away from the searing heat of the hot wax dripped onto each nipple. Then they were frozen as the ice quickly followed. First one, then the other. Each drip of wax hotter than before and each touch of the ice, colder. The pattern became familiar, over and over again, until it was hypnotic. The wax moved, going lower and lower on her body. She tried to lay back to allow her Mistress a way into her aching sex. Her desire for anything to touch her was desperately consuming. She knew it would take a single drip from the candle to throw her over the edge. Mixing pleasure and pain into an intoxicating combination. The wax dripped down her belly followed closely by the ice. Then over her thighs and down her inner thighs. Back up her belly and then back to her nipples. Hotter and hotter and hotter. Just when she thought it was too much, it stopped. She felt the cold steel of the knife as it scraped the wax from her body. It moved gently over one nipple, then the other. Where the wax was removed, the cool air heightened the sensation making her skin tingle. The hands were back, coated in oil. They rubbed the lotion over her skin. Soothing the waxed areas. Clearing off the rest of the wax. Never once touching her exposed swollen lips and clitoris. The hands massaged her shoulders and arms as the bar was lowered again. She was allowed to lean back onto an angled form to which her hands were cuffed to the sides. She gasped as her muscles cramped from being in one position for too long. Hands massaging her. Easing the tension in her muscles. Helping the blood return and the cramps ease. Massaging down her shoulders and to her breasts. Fingers pinching her nipples. Rolling them in well-oiled fingers. She moaned loudly. Her hips trying to leave the seat. Her arms pulling at their bonds. Nothing worked. Her nipples were flicked and rubbed, rolled and pinched. Unable to move. Unable to make it stop or move to other places. She screamed. Tears flowing freely over the sides of her face. Teeth touched her nipples, biting, pulling. A tongue flicked the tip. The other nipple was still being rolled with fingers. Lips enclosing her nipple, suckling it. Then teeth. Her nipples becoming flaming points of sensation. The rest of her body forgotten. She felt the rubber of the clamps and whimpered as they gently enclosed each nipple. Putting more and more pressure on them, creating a white heat that numbed her brain. The pain eased into a dull ache as the clamps became a permanent fixture. The cool chain between them was laid on her chest. The hands were gone again. This time the pinpoints of light that were her nipples journeyed with her as she fell deeper into the dark. Arching her back, seeking some contact. Her body on fire. With every breath, her nipples ached. She moaned again and again, knowing that when the clamps were removed the pain would return different and more fierce. Lost in the darkness, swallowed by her submission, able to focus only on the needs of her body, spiraling deeper and deeper into herself. Desire, lust, pain, need, all becoming one overpowering craving. A quiet whisper called to her, pulling her from the depths of her soul. Swimming upwards through the hunger, closer to the voice. Her breath coming in gasps as she tried to hear what was being asked of her. "Who do you belong to?" the voice was asking over and over again. "Tell me." Unable to find her voice, unable to move, unable to respond. Desperately trying to find a way to say, "Yours Mistress. I belong to you." No sound escaping her lips that were moving wildly. "Please Mistress, please hear me. I belong to you." And yet nothing. Lost completely. "Who owns you?" "You do Mistress!!" Yet the screams in her mind never escaping her lips. Only inarticulate sounds pushed up from the darkness and through her lips held tightly in her own teeth. "Maybe you just need a little motivation my love" The whispers against her ear were gone. Don't leave me, she thought in desperation. Please, please don't leave me! She screamed as her sex was filled by something cool and thick. Pushing, thrusting, invading her. Setting her inner most self on fire. She screamed again and again as the pleasure over took her. Shaking her head back and forth, hands opening and closing convulsively, begging with the parts of her body that she could move. Her moans and screams incoherent. She couldn't make it move faster, harder, just as she needed. The movements slowed. Driving her into furious movement that was limited to her unbound head and fingers. Straining against everything that held her. Screaming, trying to form the words. "I belong to You Mistress! You own me!" The thrusts of the invader slowing to a gentle caress, leaving her on the edge of release. Fighting with every muscle in her body, her throat contracting, as she struggled with speech. Screaming as she found her voice and was heard. "Good girl" said the voice and the invader was thrust sharply in once more and then removed. "Please Mistress, no. Please don't leave me. Mistress, please" she begged. Sobbing, unfinished, consumed by her passion. Her entire body radiating her need to be touched. "Who does your passion belong to?" the voice whispered in her ear. "You, My Lady." "Who gave you permission to cum today?" She remembered why she was here now. It all came flying back to her. She thought her Mistress would never know. Never know that she had eased her distress from the night before when she wasn't allowed to find release. Mistress would never know she had convinced herself. Mistress had been sleeping or so she thought. Upon release, her Mistress brought her to the basement. Left her in total darkness, alone. Forced to wait on Her desires. Subspace It all started because I needed a place to land after my sister and her husband kicked me out. Lucy put it quite delicately, "Frankly Jezi, Derrick is sick of your lazy shit and wants you off our couch." Then she shoved a wad of crumpled bills into my hand and closed the front door. I had just lost my job the week before as a hostess at Applebee's and had nothing to my name but an old beat up duffle bag that Lucy had taken the time to throw onto the stained Astro turf. I stood in the rain in front of my sister's trailer and silently begged her to open the door, pleading that she would give me more time. I could hear the soft sound of the television laugh tract and the closing of kitchen cabinets. Dinner time. Today was Saturday, she and Derrick would be having pot pies on TV trays. I threw my duffle bag over my shoulder and headed out into the gray evening. The past year had been tough. After my father passed away, I had a hard time focusing on my classes and ended up losing my scholarship. I moved in my sister, Lucy and her newlywed husband with a promise it would be a short term thing... But then I could not hold down a job. Over the past several months, I bounced around as a bank teller, pet groomer, restaurant hostess... I pulled my thin jacket tighter around me as the winter rain turned to snow. I shivered as I trudged along the narrow dirt road, hoping a Good Samaritan would drive by and offer me a ride, a meal... a warm place to stay. My bag grew heavy as the sky grew black and I wondered what Lucy packed. I did not have much, a couple of pairs of jeans and some tops. My most prized possession was my book of poems by Edgar Allen Poe. His words raced along inside my head, swirling around and around until I no longer cared about the painful numbness in my fingers and toes... From childhood's hour I have not been as others were; I have not seen as others saw; I could not bring my passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken my sorrow; I could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. I approached a paved road, the soft glow from the street lights seemed to welcome me into town while illuminating the crystal flakes that overwhelmed the nighttime air. I could see Larry's Bookstore was still open, his broken neon sign blinked, beckoning me. I closed the door tightly, dropped my bag to the floor and shook off the snow that had settled itself into my dark hair. Larry looked up from his newspaper, over his glasses, and gave me a quizzical look. "What on earth are you doing out on a night like this?" I smiled quickly then dropped my eyes to the floor. I knew if I looked back up I would start crying. Larry had been a family friend for as long as I remember. He and his wife were close friends with my father, they had always been there to lend a hand, a shoulder, a dollar or two. Larry stepped around the counter and sighed as he stood in front of me. "You look like you could use something warm to eat. I was just about to order some pizza. How about if you join me, my treat? You know how I hate to eat alone." Still looking down, I nodded, grateful that Larry was not one for getting involved in other people's messes. "Why don't you go to the bathroom to wash up and I will order us a couple of hot pies." I nodded again and glanced up with slight smile then headed to the bathroom. Once the door closed, I dropped to the floor and wrapped my arms around my legs and rocked myself as I silently cried. I truly had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. After several minutes, there was a quiet knocking on the door. "Are you okay Jezi? The pizza is here..." I wiped my eyes with the sleeves of my wet jacket. "I am fine Larry, I will be right out, just changing into something dry." I opened my bag to see if Lucy had at least packed some clothes. I was lucky; she stuffed two pairs of jeans, three shirts, and a toothbrush into the bag along with several books containing Edgar Allen Poe's greatest works and my collection of Poems by Walt Whitman, all good things to lug around when one is without shelter. I changed into a pair a jeans and a red lace top. Not really appropriate when one is planning on crashing under a bridge or in dark alley, but it was the best option. I quickly wiped away what was left of my mascara, pulled my long hair back into a ponytail, and leaned into the mirror. I studied my hazel eyes and long lashes and made a promise to myself, "You will not cry, you will not surrender to this..." I put on my fake, protective smile, and stepped out into the bookstore. The pizza was there along with two plates and a couple of cokes. "I hope regular Coke is okay, you are too thin as it is." He casually smiled while handing me a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza. "Thanks Larry, this smells really good. I have not eaten all day." I took the plate and stood at the counter, watching him as he took a seat at his computer. We ate in silence, me studying the grease stains on my paper plate and him focusing on the monitor. I did not want Larry to know the trouble I was having, I knew it would only disappoint him and make him feel responsible, like he had to 'fix' it. He had enough to worry about, with his business barely making a profit and his wife dealing with the disabling effects of Multiple Sclerosis. This was my problem and I knew I could handle it. After I finished my two pieces, I cleared my throat. "Larry, would you mind if I checked my email on your computer? I am supposed to work later... I was told to check my email for my schedule." "Sure, go right ahead. I need to lock up anyway, need to get Janie her medications from the pharmacy before they close." I watched Larry as he walked to the front door and then quickly searched Craigslist for available housing options. I had not counted how much money Lucy had given me, but I was sure it was not enough to provide a motel room or rent money. No, I needed something cheap and quick. As luck would have it there was one listing: Are you a Homeless Female - Need a place to stay? I sent an email and waited. I had to stall. Anxiously, I tapped my foot and watched as Larry pretended to busy himself at the cash register. He called his wife and spoke in hushed sentences while glancing up at me from time to time. He hung up and cleared his throat. "Well Jezi, I hate to kick you out, back into the snow, but I really have to get going. The pharmacy is closing soon and Janie needs her pills." "I understand Larry. I am sorry this is taking so long. For whatever reason, my email will not load." I lied, hoping to buy myself a couple of needed seconds. In a flash a response arrived: I will pick you up at the old Shell station on Highway 17 in an hour. Do not be late. "Just in time, looks like I am working tonight," I said feeling relieved. "Thanks for the pizza Larry, it really hit the spot. And thanks too for the computer, it is next to impossible to get an internet signal at Lucy's." I put on my wet coat, grabbed my bag, and closed the door behind me. The snow greeted me by pelting me in the face again and again while the wind blew and fought with the broken zipper on my coat. I kept my head down and plowed through, cutting the air with my desperation. He said, do not be late, yet the abandoned Shell station was more than a couple of miles. Back into the darkness onto the unpaved dirt road, away from the warm yellow glow of the street lights, away from the safety of Larry's Bookstore... I shuddered and shook, wet from the weather. The temperature continued to fall as the one hour stretched into two and then to three. I huddled next to a cement wall, which provided a barrier from the wind and snow. I crouched down low and blew damp breath into my frozen hands. The falling snow seemed to muffle the nighttime air so that the only sound was that of the wind whipping through the leafless branches. Crouching, waiting in the darkness, reminded me of my favorite Walt Whitman poem, only I was the spider I am the noiseless patient spider, mark'd where on a little promontory I stood isolated, Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, I launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of myself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul. As snow collected in my hair and my hands turned blue, I began to give up hope that the merciful stranger would come at all. I was truly abandoned and was ready to succumb when I saw them in the distance, two faint beams of light searching the darkness, hopefully coming for me, to take me... home. I stood as the car stopped in front of me. He opened the door and stepped out. The snow crunched beneath his steps as he approached me and took my bag. He said nothing while he placed my bag in his trunk then returned to me and said, "Get in." I was so grateful to be warm, to have the heater on high, and to see the giant flakes careen against the glass as he headed north, further away from the glowing street lamps and Larry's kindness. Still shivering, I cautiously glanced at him. "Thanks for responding to my email, I did not know what I was going to do tonight. It is really miserable out here." He said nothing, just stared ahead into the darkness. He looked to be around mid-50s with short salt and pepper hair. Even though he was wearing a long wool overcoat, I could tell he was strong, in good shape, with large hands. I watched as he gripped the wheel. The tension was thick as his silence continued. I wanted to say something, anything to fill the space between us. "My name is Jezebel, but my friends call me Jezi..." Still nothing but black silence. My mind was racing and my internal voice was screaming, what had I walked into...I should have talked to Larry, but my pride, my stupid pride was always in the way... When he finally stopped the car, we were parked in front of a small brick house. He stepped out and walked to the front door. He opened it and stood under the awning, waiting for me to join him. Nervously, I stepped out to meet him. "Can I get my bag from your trunk?" I asked tentatively. "Go inside," he said. He clenched his jaw as he stared, locking his eyes on me. I jumped and without hesitation I stepped into a dimly lit foyer. He closed the door and locked it. The quiet click only served to remind me how separate I was from the rest of the world. "Take off your coat and shoes," he directed. He stood behind me and waited while I stepped out of my wet shoes and slipped off my jacket. "Now turn around and face me, I want to see what I am getting out of this deal." I turned around slowly as I bit my lip, afraid of what I was trading for shelter. His blue eyes locked on mine and I could feel anxiety burn through my stomach and bubble up into my throat. Everything in me screamed to run, but I remained glued to that spot. "Now take off your shirt." I unbuttoned each button slowly while staring back at his looming glare. I handed him my top and attempted to cover my wet bra with my arms. "Put your arms down and take off your bra." I took a deep breath and undid each hook. The straps fell from my shoulders, exposing my pink, erect nipples. I shivered, both from the cold and from the fear of what he might do to me. "Now your jeans. You should know I deplore pants on women and from now on, while you are here with me, you will only wear what I leave out for you." I handed him my jeans. "Now your panties." I stood naked in front of his watchful gaze. His eyes traced up and down my body. "Turn around." "You have a nice firm body, large breasts, round ass, and a nicely trimmed bush. Seems like you have not been on the street for long." He dropped my clothes to the floor and leaned in. He was tall, at least a foot taller than me. He pulled the ponytail ring from my hair, allowing it to fall onto my shoulders, and inhaled deeply. "No, you have definitely have not been on the streets for long." I fought every instinct to pull away from him. I cinched my eyes shut, held my breath, and willed my galloping heartbeat to slow down. When I opened my eyes, he was in front of me, hanging up his coat. I bent down to retrieve my clothes, both to hold on to something that was mine and to provide myself with s small layer of privacy under his intimidating stare. "Leave your clothes on the floor and follow me. I will run a bath for you." Obediently, I left everything on the floor and followed him. He led me through the dark living room into a narrow hallway. He turned on the light after entering the bedroom then walked through to the bathroom. I noted one double-sized bed and a small closet, not much room for a roommate, luckily I did not have much to move in. I followed him into the bathroom. He had already turned on the water and was filling the bathtub. On the counter was a folded, white, fluffy towel. "Go ahead and get in, take all the time you want...we have all night." He smiled and his blue eyes flashed as though he knew some precarious secret I was not yet privy to, then closed the door. I sank into the hot water and placed a wet washcloth over my face. I tried to relax, I tried to calm the scary scenes that were flashing through my mind. Obviously, this was not a regular roommate situation and I knew he was expecting a lot more than just cooking and cleaning... His silence was threatening, his glare was dangerous, something I had not considered when I answered his ad. When I was outside in the frigid air, surrounded by snow and wind, succumbing was easy, just give up and let your soul go. But surrendering to another person, resisting the urge to fight back, to fight at all...That was something entirely different. The water was luxurious, relaxing the ache out of my cramped muscles. The warm heat reminded me of my father and the time he took Lucy and me to the beach. The white sun hung in the clear blue sky while the warm breeze offered little reprieve from the humid air. He allowed me to stand in the water, but only up to my knees and clutched my small hand tightly while he watched Lucy bounce and bobble through the waves. As the warm Atlantic waves lapped at my thighs I squeezed his hand tighter. He glanced down at me and smiled and said, "It's okay Baby Girl, I got you." I sank deeper into the water so that I was completely submerged and blew small air bubbles...I got you Baby Girl, I got you...I got you ... Baby Girl... I miss him... The water was cool when I finally decided to deal with what awaited me on the other side of the closed door. After drying off and towel drying my hair, I wrapped the towel around myself and opened the door. I stood at the doorway and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I could hear his breathing and could make out his dark figure in bed, sitting up against the backboard. "Take off the towel and come to bed." I sighed, silently questioning myself and this moment of truth, could I really barter sex for shelter? Thinking about the icy conditions outside, the answer seemed simple. Cautiously, I approached the bed and dropped the towel to the floor before climbing under the covers. His body tensed and he squeezed his hand into a fist. "Get up and fold my towel. I do not appreciate my things being taken for granted." I jumped up and folded his towel and placed in on the nightstand. "I'm sorry," I said then tentatively slid under the covers, hoping to not cause him to become angrier with me. My fear kept my breaths shallow and measured and my muscles tense. I lay on my side, facing away from him, hoping he would take pity on me or grow bored and allow me to sleep. I could hear a clock ticking in the next room. The seconds announcing their departure one after another, after another, until the sound of ticking overwhelmed the room. I felt his weight shift as he turned his body towards me. He placed his hand on my hip then moved his fingers over my waist and up to my breast. "You know why I offered to let you stay here? Why I offered to pick you up tonight?" he asked while tracing the outline of my nipple before pinching it. "No," I whispered, staring into the darkness. I clutched the blanket tightly and fought the instinct to run. In order to calm my anxious tremors, I tried to focus on the feelings of the beach, the warm water, the sun, to remind myself everything would be okay, that this nameless stranger would not kill me tonight. In a flash, before I could resist, he was on top of me, rolling me onto my back, straddling me so that my arms were pinned at my sides. He slipped a silky mask over my face. The fabric stretched across my skin, keeping my hot breath trapped, until it burned and raped my throat, and struggled to break free... His breath was against my ear. "Because I like seeing gratitude. When I picked you up tonight in front of the gas station, your face lit up, like I was your savior. I think you would have fallen to your knees and sucked me dry if I wanted...I am willing to give you something no one else in the world will, and you know it. I want to see that gratitude. I want your eyes to light up, I want to see you smile, and I want you to WANT to please me, because, truth be told, your survival depends on me." Gratitude. He was right. I had not expressed gratitude in years... since my mom left. She took our happy lives with her when she walked out on us...the same summer as our North Carolina vacation. I was three. Gratitude. I was so grateful for him, this nameless stranger who came out to find me and take me home. "Now, are you going to show me how some appreciation?" he asked while pinching my nipples into tingling peaks. His hot breath moved down my throat to my breast. He nipped and bit at each nipple before taking each one between his lips. His tongue teased and tasted each one while his hands gripped and groped my breasts. I could feel his cock, rock hard, sitting on my chest, pulsing. I tried to remain still, tried to keep my breaths calm and quiet as my body betrayed me. The more he suckled and nursed, the more wet I became in the valley between my thighs. He slid off me and stood on the side of the bed. I could hear him rustling around through the nightstand. "Roll over," he said. As soon as I rolled to my stomach he switched on a lamp. He took my arms and slipped a rope around each wrist, knotting my arms together so that my breasts stood out and my arms ached. "Get up," he said while pulling the ends of rope. I maneuvered as best I could as he pulled me up to standing. "I think you will like kinbaku. I think, over time you will find it is quite relaxing. At least that is what I have heard." Kinbaku? I had never heard of it, but guessed quickly that it had something to do with ropes and bondage. He brought the ropes around each breast, highlighting them, squeezing them, separating them from the rest of my body. He pulled the ropes tight and pushed me back against a wooden beam. He wound the rope around my waist, catching my wrists, so that I was held securely to the post. He dropped down and looped the ropes around each ankle then tied one to the post and lifted the other to a hook on the wall, closest to the window. I was wide open and on display. Subspace Through the black material I could see him standing in front of me. His cock standing tall as he kissed each breast. He cupped one of his mighty hands around my throat and squeezed until I couldn't breathe. I struggled against him, tried to break free, but the more I struggled the tighter the ropes became. The more I pulled the hotter the burn, until I felt them cut into my skin. His hand traced the inside of my thigh and the room began to spin. He slipped a finger inside me just as the world went black. "You know what," he said, as I came to, "I think you will really like this. From what I have heard you will go to a special place." I knew then that he was going to kill me. This was it, my demise, tied to a pole in a stranger's house. No one would even know... I could feel him, his hunger, his lust. I knew he was making himself wait...but wait for what? "Are you going to kill me?" "Kill you? Why would I want to kill you?" he said as he tugged on a nipple. "I told you, I want to see some gratitude." "I am very grateful, please, if you just untie me, I will show you my gratitude. Please, I will do whatever you want me to do." "That is where you have it all wrong. I don't want you to do something for me because you fear repercussions. No, I want you to want to please me. In fact, I want you to beg to please me." He traced his fingers along my labia before dipping in and rubbing. My wet sounds joined the ticking of the clock and they chased each other around the room as he feverishly stroked. He took his fingers out of me and wiped my juices along my nipples, and then took each one into his mouth and sucked. I could feel myself bruising from his suction, but all I wanted was for his hand to return to my pussy. "That will do for tonight. We will see how you feel tomorrow." I heard him click off the lamp. Then I heard the creak of the bed as he returned to the warm covers. I stood, balanced on one foot as the darkness passed into grayness. The winter sun splashed through the slight opening of the curtains and I wished more than anything that I could break free and run away, into the snow, ice, wind, it didn't matter. My arms had long gone numb, my hip ached from the pressure of standing in one place while on one foot. My mind struggled to find something to hold on to. A splinter of yesterday... The warmth of Larry's bookstore and the scent of paper and books...Walt Whitman... I celebrate myself; And what I assume you shall assume; For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you... I could not remember anymore. The more I struggled to recollect, the further it slipped away, underwater. The scent of bacon and eggs passed as well as the escaping ticks of the old clock. My stomach growled but I cannot say I felt hunger. I felt like I was drunk or high, no longer feeling the pain of the ropes or their obvious wounds. I was light as air and free as a dried autumn leaf... floating by... I had not heard him enter the room, but I could smell his cologne. "When I take this mask off I want to see that same level of gratitude you had when I picked you up. In the glare of the headlights, I could see that you wanted to show your thankfulness—no rather your indebtedness. I know that if I had wanted it, you would have dropped to your knees and sucked my cock right there." I nodded. He slipped the mask off and touched my lips with his thumb. I inhaled deeply while watching his eyes, hoping to gain something, approval maybe? "See, that is what I am talking about. Your hazel eyes say it all, you want me, you need me. With your almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and dainty lips, you look like a feline, a beautiful sleek cat...your name is perfect. I bought you a collar today, as you can see the little pink charm says 'Jezebel'." After he untied me, he fastened the thin leather collar around my neck. My body felt weak, my legs wanted to buckle and my arms ached with the sudden rush of blood. "On your knees and keep your eyes on me," he instructed. Down I went, grateful to have the floor cradle my weight. I kept my eyes locked on his. He embraced my head and brought it toward his cock. He was between my lips as my tongue traced and tickled the ridge of his bulbous head. It was pink and swollen. In my mouth he throbbed and I swirled my tongue around and around his thick shaft until I felt him pulsing. He wound his fingers through my hair and forced me to swallow him. Deep into my throat he plunged. He pulled my hair, forcing me to gag and drool. I did not care about a need for oxygen, all I cared about was him. He exploded in me, shooting his warm salty mess down my throat. I sucked and licked and felt his girth grow. He slipped out of my lips and pulled my body up to him then gently placed me on his bed. He was on top of me, between my thighs. His fingers busied themselves, rubbing my clit into a bonfire. I began to grind against his hand, my slippery sounds filled the small, chilly bedroom as I threatened to cum. In an instant, he was inside me, rocking back and forth, holding my arms, sucking my breasts, my nipples. He plowed into me again and again then gripped my hips and hammered deep within me. I gasped and grunted and returned the thrusts. I was ravenous for his attention, his affection, his cock. Before I knew it, he had turned me over. He continued fucking my pussy while fingering my asshole. He grunted, pushing deeper inside as his thumb circled my tiny brown pucker, tracing each fold of skin. "I know this part of you has never been touched-I will be your first." I tensed under his body. The idea of being taken so roughly scared me. As he continued ramming me from behind my little charm jingled and I remembered the feeling of calm and peacefulness that came with the ropes and the sexual fire that came with being released. "You can have my ass if you tie me up first." With that, he exploded inside me, filling me a second time. He pulled me close, but only for a moment, then pulled me out of bed. "I got you, baby, I got you," he said, taking hold of the rope and the black silk mask.