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By C. A. Taylor
4 Disobedience
Two months had passed since William had last seen his mystery woman. She still haunted his dreams, and no other woman seemed to appeal to him. He often thought back on their encounters with an inexplicable fascination.
But he had been busy, working long hours on a very complicated settlement agreement involving property in two foreign jurisdictions. Most evenings he left the office late, and headed straight home. Only his gym schedule varied his routine.
He had given up looking for her, assuming she had lost interest in him. Then one evening as he was leaving his office a police car pulled into the space behind his in the parking lot. William was just reaching for the handle of his car door. He stopped, elated and chagrined, and turned to see the blonde officer exiting the familiar police cruiser.
Annoyed at her long absence, and at his pleased response, William snapped, “Can’t you be a little more discreet? I work here. There is no telling who might see me being cuffed and taken into custody by a cop. How am I supposed to answer those questions?”
Smiling at his belligerence, she said, “Don’t fret, William. I plan our sessions better than that. Get in your car and follow me to Nicholson Street. When we arrive, pull around to the back, and park next to the loading dock. Do not deviate from my directions, William. You don’t want to irritate me.” With an evil grin, she got back into the cruiser, and waited for William to start his ignition.
The Mistress was glad to see William’s anger. If he didn’t have the spirit to stand up to her he would never make a successful Candidate. She knew it would make for fireworks tonight, but she was prepared for that. In fact, she was eagerly looking forward to continuing William’s testing. Though he hadn’t seen her in the last two months, she had kept close tabs on him, and felt everything was progressing nicely.
During the drive, William rehearsed all the thoughts and arguments that had been plaguing him the last several weeks. He vowed to himself that tonight would be different. Tonight, he would turn the tables and take control. Let’s see how she liked being ordered around and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Yes, tonight was going to be different. He was looking forward to seeing how she looked in just a pair of handcuffs…and finally learning her name.
Arriving at Nicholson Street, William recognized the warehouse he was brought to the first time he encountered the policewoman. He stepped out of his car and waited for her to approach. Leaning one hip on the hood of her car, arms crossed in front of her, she said, “William, don’t make me wait for you. You know the drill. On your knees, hands behind your back.”
William refused, shaking his head. Walking toward her he said, “I think I’ve had about enough of that. Turn about is fair play, and I think it’s my turn to see you on your knees.” The passion in his eyes promised she wouldn’t be disappointed.
“No, William. That’s not how this works,” replied the officer, drawing her weapon. “Now, on your knees, hands behind your back.”
Aghast, William looked down the barrel of her revolver, then at the steady, determined look in her eyes, and quickly decided to follow her orders. Sinking slowly to his knees, he allowed her to cuff his hands. Again.
The Mistress breathed a mental sigh of relief. William had no way of knowing the gun was not loaded. She knew what a dangerous game she was playing until he accepted his submission, and she was not eager either to be raped or to lose such a good Candidate. Fortunately, he had not called her bluff…yet. Hopefully by the time he did, she would be prepared to handle him. She didn’t relish the risk, but the stakes were high enough that the risk was justified.
The Mistress used a key on the back door and they entered. The cavernous space was cloaked in shadows, with filtered daylight slipping in through the high windows, and fluorescent tubes high in the rafters weakly lighting the central area. The warehouse had been a shipping and storage facility for large machinery at one time, and the ceiling was traversed with industrial-grade hoists, pulleys, and other riggings.
Directly in front of William was a steel sculpture consisting of two welded poles about four inches in diameter. The upright was about five feet long and the crossbeam fifteen or twenty feet in length. They were attached at the center with wire cables wound around them; small metal sails or wings arced out from the horizontal ends. Suspended from the ceiling by a winch and two large, thick chains, the sculpture was centered directly over a platform four feet off the ground and thirty feet square. The platform was covered in gray, industrial-grade carpeting, with a wooden staircase leading to it. At the foot of the steps, the Mistress again ordered William to kneel.
This time, William balked. “I know you aren’t going to shoot me, and I’m sick of your constant orders. You can’t make me do anything.”
She looked up at him with a half smile on her face, then lashed out with her foot at the back of his knee, toppling him over. He fell hard against the steps, unable to break his fall. She was on him in an instant, pulling a large wad of white cotton from her coat pocket and pressing it over his nose and mouth. William lost consciousness almost immediately.
* * *
He woke to a strong, bitter odor and a headache. Instinctively he pulled his head back, still muzzy and reeling from the effects of whatever drug she had used on him.
“No, William, I won’t shoot you,” she said softly, discarding the smelling salts. “You’re right. However, I will hurt you or drug you as I see fit. I’m trained to handle guys a lot bigger than you, and I can make you do what I say. So why don’t you save us both the effort—and you the headache.”
As his head began to clear, William discovered without surprise that he was naked from the waist up. He was also bound to the large metal sculpture, which now lay on the platform under him. With both arms brought up under the crosspiece to either side of the upright, his wrists were secured in leather cuffs in front of the point where the two sections met. He lay face down on the platform, sprawled uncomfortably over the metal cross.
Suddenly, the Mistress reached down, lacing her fingers in his hair, and pulled his head back. As he opened his mouth to protest, she forced something into it. It was a red rubber ball, about an inch and a half in diameter, with leather straps protruding from opposite ends. She drew the leather straps tight behind his head, buckling them in place and forcing his mouth open. Gagging, William tried unsuccessfully for several seconds to spit the ball out. The straps held it in place, however, and he was unable to dislodge it. Beginning to panic, he writhed as his muscles tensed and twitched while he tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath.
The Mistress knelt down in front of him, and took his head in both her hands, holding him still. “Look at me, William. Calm down. Take deep, slow breaths in through your nose, and breathe out through your mouth. You are not choking, and you are not suffocating. This is a ball gag, and, believe me, it is much more comfortable than many other designs.”
William tried to do as she said, and slowly regained his breath. After a few minutes, he had mastered the ability to inhale through his nose, and exhale through his mouth, while keeping the ball firmly braced against his teeth with his tongue. Regaining his composure, William looked up at her. There was hurt and uncertainty in his eyes, and she caressed his neck reassuringly.
“This warehouse is supposedly unused, and we don’t want to be interrupted by a concerned citizen, or some of my colleagues, should someone decide to call 911,” she explained.
“Now to business. William, I’m going to raise the chains attached to the sculpture, so I need you to get up and move with it.”
William glared at her, but as the Mistress pressed a switch dangling from the ceiling, he had no choice but to move. William scrambled along in a half crouch, trying to avoid being dragged as the assemblage swayed and was lifted off the platform. When the upright was raised up above the floor and William’s shackled wrists were in front of his face, it stopped.
Coming up behind him, the Mistress first slid her hands along the tender skin under his arms, then down his ribs, raising gooseflesh as she went. Finally circling her arms around him, she ran her hands up and down his firm chest and taut abdomen. Nuzzling his neck, she gently nibbled and sucked the tender skin just below his ear, eliciting a moan from William. Circling her hands lower, she reached down between his legs and cupped him through the fabric of his trousers. William sucked in a sharp breath, he then sighed and relaxed as her hand strolled up the fabric to rub his shaft.
“So, what have we here,” teased the Mistress. “It looks like a package for me. I think I’ll just unwrap it and take a look.” William tensed and mentally cursed himself. He had forgotten that he needed to talk to her before she undressed him. This was not working out as planned. He tried to duck away from her hands, but she was standing right behind him, her hips pressed against his.
“Stand still, William,” she said calmly.
Resigned, he did as she demanded.
She unbuckled his belt, leaving it hanging from the belt loops, and released the zipper of his pants. Sliding the grey flannel down his slim hips, she halted as she saw—white jockey shorts. Glad she was standing behind him, she quickly suppressed a smile. He was right on schedule, complete with this calculated rebellion.
“Well, well. It seems Billy has been a bad boy. Yes, willful disobedience, that’s what this is,” she drawled sarcastically. “Well, William, disobedience must be punished. So much for my pleasant evening; it seems I have to go to work.”
So saying, she walked around in front of him. She removed her uniform cap and slowly unbuttoned the long dark coat she was wearing. Shedding the coat, she stood in a short, black, v-neck dress. Her golden hair hung loose around her shoulders. High-heeled leather boots encased her strong, sturdy legs, and disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Around her waist was a wide, black leather belt with silver rings and ornaments, and dangling from the left side of the belt was a long black leather fringe.
Her arctic blue eyes assessed him as she moved to him. Pushing his pants down, she secured his belt firmly below his knees, effectively immobilizing him. Walking around behind him, she reached for a knife sheathed at her belt, and proceeded to cut off the offending underwear. Vulnerable and exposed, William’s gut tightened in trepidation. No, this evening was not going at all as he had planned.
His body didn’t seem to realize there was anything wrong, however, and responded to her as eagerly as ever. Smiling at his erection, the Mistress reached around him and smoothly applied a condom, and then removed a black circle of leather about two inches in diameter and one inch in height from her belt. Loosening the leather lacings, she slid it over William’s engorged shaft and settled it at the base of his cock. She carefully tightened the leather thongs until he was snuggly encased in a leather ring. Crossing the laces behind his balls, she pulled them up and forward, securing them to the base of his shaft. Satisfied with her preparations, she raised the sculpture until William’s arms were extended over his head and he was dangling about a foot off the floor. Feeling the pull on his shoulders, William flexed his arms to take part of the strain.
“All right, William,” she began. “Part of the reason for punishment is to teach. You were told to get rid of your briefs and you did not do it. This is to teach you that when I give you an order, it is to be obeyed.”
William groaned around his gag, wondering how long she was going to leave him hanging here, and how much worse the strain on his arms and shoulders would become before she relented. Believing this to be the extent of his punishment, he was totally unprepared for the sharp sting of the flogger as it connected with his rump for the first time. Nor for the speed and fury with which successive blows fell as she ruthlessly wielded the black leather whip. He cried out behind the gag as the first blow struck.
The whooshing sound of air parting and the startling smack as the thongs connected with his skin made it worse. Shocked to his very core, William was unable to process what was happening to him. As the stinging blows continued raining down on his shoulders, back, and buttocks, he slowly realized that he was not really being injured, or even hurt. The noise and unexpectedness of the contact startled him and the leather thongs stung as they snapped against his skin, but the real ravages were emotional. Engulfed by a wave of shame and helplessness, tears sprang to his eyes. He had never felt so defenseless in his life, bare all the way down to his soul.
The Mistress continued to ply the whip, covering him from thighs to shoulders in an even blanket of pink. The sweet torture snapped his nerve endings into overdrive, causing shuddering waves of sensation to engulf him. Through it all, the leather circlet bit into his shaft, as he throbbed, stiff and erect.
William quickly learned that the pauses were worse than the strokes with the flogger. Each irregular break in the rhythm caused him to tense, waiting breathlessly to learn when and where the next blow would fall. Also, without the whipping to distract him, the fire burning through his arms and shoulders surged to the fore.
The Mistress continued her assault, seemingly tireless. Breath ragged and eyes wet, William gave himself over to the pain. The stinging blows ran together, and he closed his eyes, in his own private world. Pain and humiliation mixed with his growing arousal. Vowing to go out and purchase new underwear that very evening, William promised himself never to disobey her again.
Finally satisfied, the Mistress hooked her flogger back on her belt, and flipped the switch to lower William to the floor. She caught the top of the crossbeam and helped guide it and William safely down until he was lying prone atop it. Then she leaned over to inspect his back. An even bright pink covered him everywhere from shoulders to thighs. There was a welt mark on one thigh and two more on his shoulders, but the Mistress was pleased to see the skin was unbroken. This was his first beating, and she had been gentle with him.
William groaned as the fire in his shoulders finally lessened. Tears were glistening in his eyes, his breathing was ragged, and his limbs were shaking. She unshackled him from the sculpture and dragged his unresisting arms behind his back, where she once again applied the handcuffs.
Carefully, she rolled him over onto his back away from the sculpture. Moaning in pain, William raised himself onto his elbows to protect his tender back from the rough carpet. Legs still bound together, he lay under her as the Mistress leaned back, and impaled herself on his stiff erection.
Dimly, William noted she was not wearing any panties. Though his backside burned from the pressure of her weight on top of him as he was rubbed against the carpeting, his body responded to her tight slickness, engorging his shaft painfully.
Unbuckling the strap behind his head, she removed the gag and kissed him, plundering his mouth as she rode him. Groaning deep in his throat, William tried to shift his position, relieving the strain on his shoulders. She continued to ride him to her own orgasm, then stopped, still impaled on his straining erection.
“William, are you sorry you disobeyed me?” she asked.
“Yes,” William sighed.
“No, William,” she chided, “remember your manners.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he dutifully responded.
“Then you may beg me for forgiveness, William.”
“Please, Mistress, I’m very sorry I disobeyed you, a-and I won’t do it again. Please forgive me,” William pleaded.
“Your ass hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, it does,” he said.
“And your cock is about to explode, isn’t it?” the Mistress observed.
“Yes, Mistress,” William replied, grinding his teeth.
“Very well, William,” she said, “I forgive you.” Reaching behind her, she released the belt confining his legs. Then she unlaced and removed the leather cock ring. William sighed in relief.
“Honesty should be rewarded, so lie back, spread your knees, and find your release.”
So saying, she pushed William down on his back and leaned forward with her hands braced against his shoulders. With his legs free, William lifted his hips up to encase himself fully in her sleek wetness, driving himself into her as far as he could. She rocked back, riding him, meeting him with each thrust, as she drove him inside her even further. As he quickened the pace toward a frenzied conclusion, she came again moments before William growled low in his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him weak and sweating.
William lay on the dais, breathing hard, amazed at the blending of pain and pleasure surging through him, as he stared up at the high ceiling of the warehouse. He watched as the Mistress got up, adjusted her clothing, and donned her cap and coat. Bending down, she planted a searing kiss on his lips, and placed the key to the handcuffs in his hand. “See you, lover,” she said, and walked out the door into the darkness.
Lying there, his back and bottom burning, William caught his breath as he tried to sort out what had just happened to him. The Mistress was the most maddening and bewitching creature he had ever encountered. She was leading him into a new world of discovery, and he was following eagerly, if somewhat painfully.
Eventually, with much struggling, he managed to get his hands uncuffed. Finding his clothes, he slowly dressed and went out to his car. Bemused and disoriented, in pain and yet relaxed, he drove first to a department store, then home, thinking of Her.
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