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Chapter 2: Red
She had no idea how much time had passed. The shades of light and dark flickering through her blindfold were mesmerizing. Master had chosen a deep red strap of silk this time, and the flood of the candles illuminated her vision through the fine fabric. The varying intensity of the flickering flames bombarded her with multiple shades of red, constantly changing. She envisioned the wetness of her pussy, and she felt the heat of it. They seemed to be connected; the burning red that she saw and felt further fueled her desires. It was a never-ending cycle that caused her to continually leak her wonderful juices, and the chair’s wood surface was saturated with her cum and urine. She had been unable to control the release of her pee during one particularly wicked orgasm, and now she was forced to sit in a puddle, as the chair was concave by design. She felt humiliated knowing that she was confined in her own urine and that Master would discover her in this state. She couldn’t be sure it would happen, but in the past Master had severely punished her for this sort of incident. She reveled in the opportunity to orgasm. It seemed that Master was being especially generous, and he had not restricted her from cumming. He usually gave her explicit instructions in the past, when she could go, how many she could have. Her face flushed under the blindfold. Thinking of his control made her warm inside, and she felt another wave of ecstasy approaching. God, how many is this; she thought to herself.
She ached all over. The handcuffs annoyed her to no end. Master had snugged them tightly around her wrists, and she had very little mobility in turning her wrists to transfer the contact of the cuffs. Her back ached from being in a static position, perfectly erect for an indefinite amount of time. Her breasts had a slight numbness to them, as the brassiere seemed to press further into their softness and the unsupported weight of them seemed to work against her, pulling the brassiere into them. She growled in frustration at her body’s own betrayal. Though she couldn’t see them, other than as a constant shadow of red, she imagined that they were turning a shade of purple. She also reveled in the feel that her breasts seemed impossibly large, much bigger than her normal size. While master had always complimented her breasts, she worried that she didn’t have enough flesh in that area to provide Master a proper tit fuck. Humiliated by this, she felt it was her responsibility to make up for her ‘deficiency’ in any other area that she could. Ironically, Master had instantly refused the discussion of her having an operation when she mentioned it to him. The look in his eye had quietly discouraged exploring the topic further. She had resigned herself to the idea that she would never be able to please Master’s tool physically with her breasts.
Slowly and with a soft moan, she stretched her jaw open. She forced a smile and a frown, opened her mouth wide, and pursed her lips, attempting to exercise her facial muscles to alleviate the psychological bondage that assaulted her. Since her Master had left, her saliva had slowly dried on her face. The silk had absorbed some of the spittle, but this was no relief. In contrast to the rest of her face, which was dry and tight, under the blindfold, her soft tears had maintained moisture and there was an ever-present slickness between the silk and her skin. She wished with all of her being that he had wiped her face before leaving. This was a recurring state for her since meeting him 2 years before. She was usually allowed to clean herself throughout the night, but she was subjected to throat exercises that continually made a mess of her.
At times, if Master were tired, she would be instructed to sit on the couch with some of her toys and entertain herself through the night. When she wasn’t catering to Master, she was allowed to watch TV and listen to music and chat on the phone with friends. She spent a lot of time on the Internet chatting and browsing forums, and she had built several relationships with various other women. During her exercises, even if he wasn’t always watching, she wanted him to know that she liked her assignments. She would see an occasional smile on his face as he looked at her during an intense outburst, and she quickly learned that her Master liked for her to be vocal. She tried to be aware of where he was at in the house and adjusted accordingly so as to be heard but not be a nuisance.
As she reflected on the past and moaned with pleasure with the idea of how lucky she was, she was brought back to reality with the constantly growing discomfort around her ankles. The shackles truly frustrated her. They were a reminder to her of Master’s darker side. She reveled in days like today, when he had gentleness about him. As the shackles chafed into her skin on her anklebones, she was all too aware that Master seemed quite willing and able to offer her severe punishments on his whim. She could never figure out which punishments were worse, the ones that she had caused or the ones when Master just needed to teach some general discipline. All she knew was that on some of the more extreme ones, she felt that she would be maimed or cripple as a result of her beatings. But somehow her Master always seemed to know when enough was enough, and during her 2 years of time with him, she had usually achieved a full recovering within a few days. Those were the best days… the ones that followed her beatings. Master was always at his gentlest at those times. He would bring her flowers occasionally, and she was allowed to shop online for whatever struck her fancy within reason, of course. He would prepare gourmet meals for her, and treat her more like a princess than she had ever known. Master never let her out in public after the heavier beatings. After discussing it, she understood that it was the best way to avoid the potential unwanted questions about her physical condition. Too many people would just not understand. She had quickly come to terms with harsher beatings, because of the wicked attention that he showed her while they happened, her intense desire to experience them, and she yearned for those blissful days that would follow.
Suddenly, she was brought out of her revelry with an odd sensation. The constant, never-ending buzzing that had relentlessly assaulted her anal cavity, abruptly stopped. Her anus, which was totally relaxed, began to fill with sensations. That intruder in her rectum that Master had deviously planted had caused her non-stop worry and frustration. Having lost all concept of time, she had difficulty in remembering what her cavity felt like before it had been buried in her ass. Just as the candlelight flickering through the blindfold consumed her, the massage and tingling of her plug was relentless in its assault on her senses. It always seemed that Master knew when to aggravate her. Anytime that her anus would adjust and become comfortable with the constant buzz and vibration of her phallic lover, its pulse rate would suddenly change. The spasms that would result would often send her over the edge. Her pussy and anal walls would clinch. Her anus would grab and push at the plug, but being of superior quality, it did not easily slip out without aide. Meanwhile, her pussy would grab at nothingness. The torment of it seemed to push her close to insanity at times. What she wouldn’t give to have that vibration and fullness in her pussy for a time and satisfy its longing for fulfillment. Initially, when the vibrations stopped, she let out a sigh of immeasurable relief, but within seconds, her mind started reeling from the absence of the buzz in that she could feel and hear. Her anal walls began sporadic convulsions and she cried out from the sharp pain that she felt deep inside her. Not believing that it was possible, she became more aware of that intruder in deep within her. It felt like a lump or log, and she longed for its removal.
She cried out in agony “Oh please, Master, come back. I can’t take it anymore.” She desperately moaned knowing the futility of it all. Salty tears were absorbed into the silk blindfold as she released her pitiful sobs. As it had happened throughout the evening, the silk became saturated with her tears, and slow trails of sweet emotions crept downward along the contours of her beautiful face, channeled along the occasional bumps and ravines created by her dried saliva.
Many times, she had cried for her Master, but she knew that he would come only when he determined it was time. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. Every time through the evening that the speed shifted on the vibrator, she had satisfaction knowing that her Master was nearby, remotely adjusting the speed. He was paying attention to her, and that idea aided her during her numerous orgasms.
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