The Cabin

       The delivery truck pulled onto the winding mountain road as the driver shifted the transmission into a lower gear to compensate for the steep grade.  The two delivery men riding in the cab hadn’t seen a house or store for about 25 miles at that point as they drove further up the mountain, hoping not to miss the secluded cabin they were looking for.

       “Its damn empty up here,” said the man riding shotgun, “I wonder how this guy came to have a cabin all the way out here.”

       “Beats me,” the driver replied.

       “Kind of a pain in the ass driving all the way up here with no street signs or nothing,” the man whined.

       “For the money that man’s paying us, we’ve got no reason to complain,” the driver grumbled.

       “Yeah well…” the man trailed off, as his eyes scanned the vast untouched wilderness of Big Bear Mountain.

       The condition of the road deteriorated until it wasn’t much more than a dirt trail, not too rough, but obviously untouched by maintenance crews for a long time.  The higher the men drove, the closer the woods encroached on the road, with the occasional branch whipping along the side of the panel truck.

       Soon a clearing became visible up ahead and then they saw the cabin.  The exterior was traditional heavy oak, thick to keep out the cold in winter.  They’d been told that no one had been out to the cabin for a year or more, the shudders were drawn on all the windows and the deep-set door, oak to match the cabin’s exterior, they’d been told, was solidly locked.  The roof was a steep pitch, with tin shingles, easier for the snow to slide off after heavy falls.

       There wasn’t really a yard, nor a driveway, the driver just pulled the truck up in front of the house with the cargo doors at the rear facing the cabin’s front porch.  The two men climbed down from the cab and stretched in the crisp March air.

       They walked around to the back of the truck and swung the heavy steel doors outward, revealing the plain wooden crate inside.  The shotgun-rider climbed inside the trailer and slid the crate towards the edge where the driver stood waiting below.  The crate was lying flat, about eight feet long, four feet wide, and only two feet high.  The man figured it to weight about two hundred pounds as he leaned into the crate, no doubt furniture of some kind.  He knew they’d find out as they had instructions to open it and nail it into the floor in the center of the living room.

       As the crate slid to the edge of the raised trailer, the driver said, “Hang on, I’ll unlock the front door first,” as he took the four steps up to the porch.

       He reached into this pocket and produced the key the man had given him, slid it into the keyhole and unlocked the door.  The lock operated smoothly and the door swung open without a squeak.    The driver turned back and walked down the steps to the back of the truck where his partner waited, still inside the trailer.

       “Go ahead,” the driver said, and the other man started pushing the crate over the edge.

       The driver supported the end coming out and stepped backward.  Once just a few inches remained resting on the ledge of the trailer, the shotgun-rider descended from the truck and gripped his end.  The two men maneuvered the crate out of the truck and started up the porch steps.

       They got the crate inside the living room without too much trouble, all the furniture was positioned around the perimeter of the room, leaving the center free of obstacles.  The men lowered the crate to the smooth wood floor of the living room.  The interior wasn’t quite as rugged as the exterior, the walls were dry walled and decorated tastefully by simple watercolor landscape and beach paintings.  A black leather couch sat against one wall with a matching recliner in the corner.  The fireplace was in the wall to the right of the front door, built out of faded brown bricks with a metal screen hanging from a track to keep embers from drifting into the room.

       Once the crate was on in the cabin, the shotgun-rider stepped back outside and retrieved the hammer and nails from the back of the truck.  Back inside the living room, he stuck the claw end under the top of the crate and started prying upward, working his way around until the nails came free of the rest of the box.  They removed the top and looked inside.

       “Hmm.  Now what do you suppose that is?” asked the man as he set about knocking down one side of the crate.

       “Hell if I know,” answered the driver as he looked down at the contents of the crate.

       Inside, taking up the majority of the space, sat a large, black X-frame.  It appeared to be made of wood painted black but its surfaces almost seemed too smooth for such raw material.  Its overall shape was an X but a base could be seen at one end, where it was no doubt to be stood.  At each end of each of the X’s arms, was a shining chrome ringbolt sunk deep into the wood.

       The shotgun-rider separated the side of the crate from the main piece and they set about pulling the X-frame from within.

       “Alright, he said he wanted it facing the fireplace, I’m guessing the back is the side with the base,” the driver said as he and his partner carried the X-frame to the center of the room and rotated it to face the fireplace.

       The driver bent down to examine the base while the other man grabbed the hammer and nails from where he’d set them on the floor.  Upon the driver’s inspection he saw that there was a small hole, no doubt fitted for a nail, at each corner of the base as well as at the center.  He directed the other man to these holes and the spacious room was filled with the pounding sound of nails being buried in the ancient wood.

       After the nails were driven through the base and into the floor, the driver and his partner stood up, they gave the X-frame a shake, as solidly as it was built and the efficiency of the anchor points caused it to quite literally become part of the cabin.  It didn’t shudder a centimeter under either man’s grasp.

       Satisfied, the men headed for the door, as they crossed back over the threshold, the shotgun rider hesitated and looked back at the menacing structure.

       “You don’t suppose they got some kind of cult thing going on up here or something, do you?” he asked.

       “Stop being stupid and get the hell out here so I can lock this door,” the driver snapped.

       The shotgun-rider stepped outside, the driver inserted the key into the lock and twisted to the right.  After locking the door he turned and headed down the steps, stopped and set the key under the bottom step as he’d been instructed.

       Straightening back up the driver walked back to the driver’s side door, looking forward to getting back down the mountain and back to civilization.  He and his partner climbed into the cab of the truck, he started the engine and they drove away, leaving the silent cabin alone again.

               __________________________________________

       Thirty miles away and down the mountain, Victor and Helena were bagging the groceries they’d purchased at the general store.  It was the last store, or building of any kind for that matter, up until the cabin out in the wilderness of the mountain.  Smiling and saying thank you to the old man at the counter, they made their way outside and over to the rented SUV Victor had parked in the far corner of the lot.

       He unlocked the back hatch and they loaded the groceries and supplies inside.  Victor noticed that there was still plenty of room in the back, even with their luggage and the groceries.  He got an idea.

       Victor noticed that the parking lot created a break in the trees, allowing for a view of the setting sun.  He admired the luscious, vibrant colors as he stepped in front of the SUV, leaving the hatch at the back of the truck open.

       “Helena, come look at the sunset,” he said.

       Helena obediently came around the side of the vehicle to stand at his side.  She stood to his right as she took in the quickly changing colors of the horizon, going from burnt orange to deep red, and then further into purple twilight.

       The SUV blocked them from the front of the store, he watched her, allowing her to watch the colorful display just a little longer before pulling the small length of rope from his pocket and stepping behind her as he wrapped it around her throat.  Victor was firm but did not pull hard, though Helena knew just what was around her throat nonetheless.  She made no mistake about it, her Master was done playing nice for the locals, and there would be no more pretending that they were a normal couple on a romantic getaway.  What they had in mind was romantic to them, but they were far from being a “normal couple.”

       “It seems I have quite the innocent little flower in my hands, I think I’ll take you home and play with you,” Victor whispered menacingly, “come slave, we have just a little further,” as he started dragging her around to the back of the vehicle, the rope pulling at her throat forcing her to gasp.

       Back at the rear hatch, Victor forcefully pushed Helena into the back of the truck, and then followed her inside.  He pushed her down to her stomach on the cargo area’s floor, then looped the rope around her neck.  He then reached into a bag where he’d been sure to bring a good supply of rope, he bound her wrists together behind her back with one length of the rope, then attached the loop around her neck to her bound wrists.  Producing more lengths of rope from the bag, he bound her knees and then her ankles tightly together, the course hemp rope bit painfully into her legs, totally restricting any movement.  Victor next pulled out a strip of cloth and pulled it between Helena’s teeth and wrapped it around her head.  He wrapped it around twice before tying the two ends tightly at the back of her head, the crude gag fitting perfectly with the kidnap scenario he was orchestrating.  He’d already decided against a blindfold, with her lying facedown there in the back it was bound to be pushed askew.  And besides, he’d thought of something crueler, therefore better.  Victor pulled out the small, tan colored burlap sack from the bag and pulled it over Helena’s head.  The top of the bag featured a drawstring, he pulled it snugly around her neck and tied it in place, not tight enough to impair her breathing, just enough to keep the bag in place, adding to the element of a kidnapping by not allowing her vision.  He’d checked to make sure the bag was porous, so he knew she could breathe easily, she was just disoriented inside of it.

       She lay on the floor of the cargo area dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a light fleece, bound from ankle to wrist, gagged, with a shapeless bag pulled over her head, robbing her of her sight as well as her identity.

       Caressing her compactly bound form, Victor said, “This is how you will continue the rest of the trip slave.  You will find that this is not a vacation for you to relax, but something else entirely.  You will truly learn your place where I’m taking you,” he jumped out the back of the truck, “don’t try to struggle, you’ll only succeed in choking yourself.  Just lay there and get some rest, you’re going to need it.”

       Victor shut the tailgate and walked around to the driver’s side door.  He climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and twisted the key in the ignition.

       Helena lay in the back of the SUV, her face surrounded by the dull gloom that struggled to permeate through the thick material of the sack pulled over her head.  Her hands were pinned high up her back, very little slack connected the ropes binding her wrists to the length of the rope cinched snuggly around her delicate throat.  The two tight ties at her knees and ankles may as well have welded her legs together all the way down to her feet.  Her heart fluttered as she endured the strict circumstances brought about by her stern Master. 

       She felt the vehicle start to move as Victor backed out the parking spot, and pulled out onto the road.  Distance meant nothing to her anymore, nor did time, only her predicament and her submission.

       Victor drove the SUV higher up the mountain, using the high beams as the sun had set and twilight was steadily being replaced by night.  It wasn’t long before he saw headlights ahead coming back down the mountain.

       Victor rose his arm in salute as he passed the panel truck just a few miles from the cabin.  The driver returned the wave then focused once more on the road, his partner leaned against his window, fast asleep.  If the driver’s eyes had wandered to the back of the SUV, he would have seen Helena, lying bound among the luggage and grocery bags.  Saving Victor from an inquisitive visit from the sheriff, the driver kept his eyes on the winding mountain road, wary of surprises in the dark.

       They passed the last short leg of the trip in silence, Helena’s was forced, her Master’s was contemplative.  He had been wanting for quite some time to get his slave somewhere open yet private, somewhere where he wouldn’t have to give a thought to neighbors, noise, or appearances.  The things he had in store for her would have created problems with all three had they been at home.  Not here though.  Here, he could properly train her in the ways of ultimate servitude.  Here, she would be reminded why she served him.

       With just that thought in mind, Victor saw that they had reached the cabin.  He saw that it was just as he’d remembered it, and perfect for what he had in store for his slave.

       Victor pulled the SUV up to the house, and parked off to the side to the left of the porch.  He removed the keys from the ignition and exited the truck.  Wasting no time, he walked over to the porch and crouched down by the first step, feeling underneath it with his hand.  He quickly found the key, straightened up and climbed the porch stairs.  Reaching the door, he unlocked it and stepped inside.

       Stepping into the dark living room, Victor flicked the wall switch, hoping that he wouldn’t have to fiddle with the breakers in the basement.  He didn’t, the heavily shaded lamp in the corner flashed into hooded brilliance, pushing shadows to the far reaches of the room.

       Victor’s eyes immediately found the imposing X-frame, standing boldly in the middle of the room.  He stepped over to it, felt along its smooth, lacquered finish, tested its anchors: they were solid.

       His inspection complete, Victor turned back to the front door and headed back down the porch steps.  Stepping back to the parked SUV, Victor unlatched the tail gate, the dome light came on as its hydraulics hissed, raising it slowly out of his way.  The meager illumination from the dome light revealed Helena, still bound and helpless there on the floor of the cargo area.

       Putting his hands on her, Victor lowered his mouth to where he judged Helena’s left ear to be, “We’re here princess,” he whispered.

       He untied the rope connecting her bound wrists to her throat and picked her up, slinging her bound form over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.  The young Master climbed back up the porch stairs, carrying his willing captive into the cabin and setting her down on the couch.  He then headed back out to the truck, but stopped out on the porch to swing the shudders over the windows open.  Once he’d opened the shudders, he walked down to the truck and started carrying the luggage and groceries into the house.

       The groceries he distributed to their appropriate places in the kitchen, the luggage he set in the bedroom.  Having removed two important items from his bag, Victor walked down the short hallway to the living room, finding Helena bound and waiting on the couch.  He set the selected items down on the couch’s end table and walked over to the fireplace.  The wood he’d left still sat inside, he’d even put kindling underneath it.

       Using a wooden match from the box on the hearth, Victor lit the fire in three different places, making sure the flame would properly grow and spread to the rest of the seasoned pine.  The fire taken care of and casting warm orange light throughout the room, the confident young Master stood and walked over to the light switch set in the wall.  He flicked it down, dousing the lamp, and leaving the fire to provide light and warmth.

       Then Victor walked over to the couch and Helena’s bound form.  He first loosened the draw string of the bag covering her face and hindering her sight, he pulled it off as she slowly blinked and opened her eyes, looking up at him.  Next he untied the knot he’d put in the gag and pulled it from around her head and mouth.  He then untied her knees, then her ankles, then had her lean to the side so he could untie the ropes binding her wrists.

       All her limbs freed, Victor rubbed her body where the ropes had bit mercilessly into her flesh, “Did you enjoy being kidnapped?” he asked.

       “Yes Master,” Helena said graciously.

       “Stand up,” her Master commanded.

       Helena, always an example of obedience, complied, getting promptly to her feet, then her eyes found the X-frame.  She stood stunned, taken aback by the sheer mass of it.  Victor half-turned, following her wide gaze, and gave a slight smile.

       “Don’t worry, you’ll get well acquainted with that soon enough,” he said, “remove your clothes, now.”

       Helena turned back to her Master and started taking off her clothes as she’d been ordered.  She started with the soft red fleece, pulling it over her head, her hair spilled back to her bare shoulders as she removed it.  She reached behind herself and unclasped her black bra, lowering her arms in front of her, letting it slide down to the floor.  Now nude from the waist up, Helena bent over and untied each of her shoes, and stepped out of them.  She next pulled her socks from her feet.  Straightening back up, her hands went to her belt, she unbuckled it.  Then she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled the zipper down, she lowered her pants down her legs and stepped free of them.  Helena now stood only in her black panties, she didn’t hesitate to hook her thumbs into the small waistband and pushed them down her legs, stepped out of them and stood naked in front of her Master.  Her eyes never left his as she’d stripped at his command, revealing her smooth, flawless skin to the firelight.

       Victor’s eyes hungrily crept up and down Helena’s perfectly bare skin, taking in every detail and every curve of the body he owned and controlled.  As always, he loved what he saw in her eyes, in her posture, and in the way she held herself under his gaze.

       “Kneel,” Victor said softly.

       Helena lowered herself gracefully to her knees before him.

       Victor reached over to the end table and picked up Helena’s new collar, as he brought it to her she saw that it was quite wide, not as wide as a posture collar but leaving all possibility of subtlety behind.  It was black, gleaming in the firelight.  A large silver ring hung at the front.

       “Lift your hair,” Victor commanded.

       Helena reached up and gathered her hair in her hands, lifting it above her neck and out of his way.  Victor wrapped the thick leather collar around Helena’ throat and buckled it securely at the back of her neck.

       Victor stepped back slightly to admire this new addition to his submissive.  Again, he liked what he saw.  He again reached to the end table and picked up the black leather discipline hood he’d bought for his slave.  Helena, caught completely off-guard by this new accessory, looked at the mask with shock, not in a negative way, she was just surprised.

       Victor, hood in hand, stepped behind Helena’s kneeling, subservient form.  Her eyes did not follow him as he stepped behind her, he’d broken her of that habit.  Now behind his slave, without a word, Victor pulled the mask over her head.  He checked the front, making adjustments until her eyes, nose, and mouth were centered through the contoured holes sewn into the leather.  Satisfied that it was lined up properly, Victor started pulling the laces tight at the back of the hood, securing it over her face.  Once the laces were all pulled tight, he tied them neatly at the bottom, sealing Helena’s face inside the mask.

       Victor laid his hand on top of her leather bound head and stepped around to Helena’s front.  She looked up at him from within the leather mask.  Snaps were situated above and below the mouth and eye holes for securing a built-in blindfold and leather gag.

       “This is called a discipline hood, its going to be your face while you’re here.  You are now robbed of your identity, you are no longer a slave.  Wearing this mask, you have been lowered to nothing but a fuck toy.  That is what I will refer to you as, you are now my toy.  Toys do not require clothing, you will wear nothing but this mask and your collar.  You may not speak, I have no interest in anything you have to say,” Victor said, enjoying the fear he saw in Helena’s eyes.

       Victor walked back to the bedroom and after setting up and lighting numerous candles on the dresser, retrieved the duffel bag he’d stored some of the equipment he’d planned on using.  Walking back to the living room, he dropped the duffel next to the X-frame, walked over to Helena and drew her to her feet by her arm, then started leading her to the center of the room, where the ominous structure waited.

       Helena’s eyes traveled up and down its black surfaces as the firelight danced and reflected to and fro, as if giving the unmoving X-frame life as well as malevolent intent.

       Arriving at the front of the dark construction, facing the now-roaring fire, Victor shoved Helena roughly back up against the X-frame.

       “Don’t move,” the command came out hard, as it was meant to.

       Helena stood still with her back against the X-frame as Victor riffled through the bag, from it he produced two sets of cuffs, one set for her wrists, the other set for her ankles.  Each set of cuffs sported sturdy buckles for fastening them to her limbs as well as quick snaps, like the one on her leash, for securing them to the ringbolts that were sunk into the X-frame at each of its four corners.

       Victor had been very specific when he’d submitted the order for the X-frame, it was built especially for Helena.  He saw that the specifications had been carried out perfectly as he raised Helena’s left arm up and snapped the wrist cuff to the ringbolt, it was a perfect fit.  He then secured her right arm to the corresponding ringbolt, then did the same for both of the cuffs at her ankles, leaving her standing against the X-frame with her limbs splayed wide open, the front of her body left bare and vulnerable to his gaze and whatever else he chose.

       He stepped back to take it all in, Helena, as always, was quite a sight to behold, this time naked but with her face hidden, her body spread-eagled before him.

       “I think I’ll start off by hurting you,” Victor said, walking over to the duffel bag lying off to the side, reaching down and removing his chosen implement of torture.

       He stepped up to where Helena was forced to stand, displayed on the X-frame, his free hand went to her leather-clad face, gripping her under the chin and lifting her face up to his, “I won’t be able to see the beautiful display of pain on your continence, but I’ll know its there,” he slowly lowered his face down to hers as he spoke softly, then just as the last word was spoken, his lips met hers.

       It was a new experience for Helena, just being kissed while wearing the mask.  It stirred up and brought to the surface a feeling that she couldn’t describe, but she liked, no, loved, so much.  Victor kissed so passionately and with such force, and then without warning he was gone.  She opened her eyes to see his back as he walked away, silhouetted against the fire, she couldn’t see what he’d grabbed from the duffel bag.

       The front of his body draped in shadows, she watched him set something she couldn’t clearly see on the mantle, and then remove his jacket and shirt, his bare upper torso now outlined in the firelight.  He picked up what he’d set on the mantle, she saw it uncoil to the floor from his hand, and knew what it was just an instant before he cocked his arm back and unleashed it on her flesh.

       The whip, the last foot of its length embedded with little slivers of metal that brought the already hot sting to an almost unbearable level, cut the air sharply with a tight whistling sound, just before it stung and cut her flesh, leaving a thin red line, diagonally from her mid to inner right thigh.  The pain was indescribable, it was just simply excruciating, and Helena screamed.  Then she watched as the whip was drawn back for another blow, there wasn’t enough time in the world for her to prepare for the next lash, she had none anyways, because her watering eyes watched Victor’ muscles clench and contract in the warm firelight as he brought the whip soaring at her again.  Its arc was artfully controlled, Victor chose to create a matching slash on Helena’s other smooth thigh.

       Helena’s scream filled the entire cabin and much of the surrounding forest as her left thigh was given a matching mark, as straight and thin as a razor’s edge, again stretching from mid to inner thigh.

       Tiny, fine rivulets of blood were revealed by the firelight as they crept slowly down Helena’s trembling legs.  A sob escaped her throat as Victor readied himself for another blow.  The X-frame truly was built especially for Helena, her arms and legs were drawn far away from her body, she was able to produce no leverage nor protect her exposed body from the onslaught.  Victor’ preparations were flawless, placing her in exactly the position he chose for her, rendering her powerless to his will.

       The next lash cut across the top of Helena’s sensitive breasts, so fast that she never even saw the cruel whip as it traveled before her very eyes.  She screamed, suffering her torment in the discipline mask, in anonymity.

       The whipping continued, for how long, Helena would never know.  To her, it felt like time came to a stop as the lash fell across her helpless and vulnerable form, stretched wide open on the X-frame.

       Victor was more than satisfied in how the session was going, he loved how Helena looked, her identity stolen from her, masked and bound before him, enduring the harsh whipping he was delivering.  After he’d decorated the front of her body with the beautiful bright red lines, he decided that she’d had enough, plus he imagined the vast amount of pain he’d just inflicted was acting as mere foreplay to his masochistic submissive.  Not that he was interested in what she may want, he was quite aroused as well and already thinking of just how he was going to fuck Helena like a whore.

       Deciding to mix pleasure with pain, Victor stepped up to the X-frame and set about releasing Helena from her bonds.  He didn’t remove the cuffs on her ankles and wrists, just unsnapped them from the ringbolts.

       He gave Helena a moment to steady herself, and then lowered her to her knees with a hand on her shoulder.  He then retrieved the chain leash from the duffel and snapped it to the strict collar around her neck.

       Victor walked back to the bedroom, leading his masked fuck toy by her leash as she crawled obediently on her hands and knees at his side.  They entered the bedroom, he led Helena right up to and onto the four poster bed.  The bed sported high posts that reached all the way to the ceiling and connected together at the top, it also had thin white veils that were currently pulled and secured to the posts at the corners.

       Using his hands to position her, Victor put Helena on her hands and knees, centered on the bed and facing towards the head.  He then jumped down and pulled a length of rope from one of the bags.  Before climbing back up once more, Victor moved one of the burning candles to the end table beside the bed and pulled a sleek black dildo from another bag.

       Setting the rope and phallus beside him, Victor pulled Helena’s arms behind her back and snapped the wrist cuffs together.  He then attached the length of rope to the wrist cuffs and tossed the free end over the bar connecting the two head bedposts.  Holding the end of rope now looped over the raised bar, Victor pulled down as he watched Helena’s bound hands rise up, she was bent at the waste and quite exposed with her arms pulled up behind her.  He secured the end of the rope to the headboard, trapping Helena like that, her ass thrust up and out and her masked face forced down.

       Victor took off his shoes and socks, then his pants and underwear, his eyes never left the body of the bound woman held before him, presented as if a feast.  He grabbed the lit candle and crawled up to Helena’s head.  He thrust his engorged member in front of her face and moved her mouth to it with a hand at her head.  He watched as she opened her mouth and accepted his throbbing cock, it disappeared beyond the shiny leather of the mask he had sentenced her to wear, past her mouth and into her throat as he thrust himself forward.

       Helena gagged and struggled for breath as Victor’ hand kept a firm hold on her head, forcing her to take more and more of him.  Then Victor extended the candle forward, over Helena’s back and let it tip sideways, spilling the sizzling liquid onto her unsuspecting body.

       She shrieked as the unexpected heat burned into her bare back, even as he pressed himself insistently further into her mouth.  Her Master had wanted her to feel like nothing more than a toy, something for his amusement, and he had succeeded because that is exactly what she felt like.  Masked and bound, forced to suck his cock while he dripped the hot candle wax onto her trapped form, she was only able to scream, lamenting even as she took more of him into her throat. 

       Victor truly languished in Helena’s submission, the gags and struggled gasps for air mixed with the anguished cries were sweet music to his ears, the feel of her mouth around him was wonderful, and the way she looked in the mask was remarkable.  Even robbed of her identity and forced to submit anonymously, Helena was far more beautiful than any other woman could ever hope to be.

       Soon Victor wanted to feel more of his toy’s body, he removed himself from Helena’s lips and crawled down behind her, keeping the dripping candle positioned over her back.  Noticing without much surprise that Helena’s pussy was wet and dripping, he reached down and picked up the dildo, then shoved it without warning into her slick, inviting hole.  He pushed it in and out, only to thoroughly coat it in her body’s natural juices, he then pulled it out, aimed it slightly upward and shoved it into her ass as he replaced the fake cock with his own, quite real one, thrusting himself roughly into her body.

       Helena moaned as she felt herself penetrated in both places.  She quickly started to cry out as her Master fucked her with abandon, shoving himself quickly in and out of her pussy, while still fucking her ass with the dildo, while even still dripping the searing hot wax onto her back.  She didn’t know if she reached sensory overload from all the stimulation or if she just came, either one it was, she enjoyed it immensely as wave after wave of pure pleasure crashed and careened through her body, somehow brought on by the combined pain of the whipping and the dripping wax.  She felt herself wet and hot as Victor continued to fuck her, long and hard, creating sweet friction with the long, rough strokes.  She pictured how she must look to her Master, bound and bent over, masked and objectified, and just thinking about it brought her screaming into another blinding orgasm.  The tight bondage at her wrists, the ever-present pressure of the discipline hood gently but sternly hugging her head and features, the thick heat of the candle wax across her back, the sharp pain of the lashes at her front, the feel of his body behind her, thrusting himself inside of her again and again, and the filled-up feeling that the dildo brought to her ass all just did it for her, all of it came together in one long explosive orgasm, or rather two orgasms, because Victor could hold himself no longer and came at the same moment, filling Helena with his pleasure, his passion.

       They both stayed like that for a few moments, breathing hard and basking in the glow of the amazing sex they’d just had.  Then Victor raised the candle to his lips and blew it out, he tossed it to the floor.  Next, he gently eased the dildo from Helena’s ass and tossed it to the floor near the discarded candle.  He then withdrew himself from her body.  Reaching up, he released the rope holding her wrists above her.  Once freed from the strappado, she collapsed forward, her wrists still held behind her.  He then removed the cuffs from her ankles and wrists.  He pulled a knife from one of the bags and scrapped the candle wax that clung tight to her back, revealing the matching red marks underneath the hardened wax.

       Seeing that she was exhausted, Victor led Helena down to the foot of the bed, “You’ll sleep at the foot of the bed,” he said, gently helping her lower to a lying position.

       She fell asleep almost instantly, lying across the foot of the bed, naked, wearing the discipline hood.  She was his favorite toy.

               _______________________________________________

       The next morning, Victor woke early, sat up and looked down the bed at Helena.  She still lay sleeping, stretched across the width of the bed, the wide collar around her neck, the hood still hiding her face. 

       He smiled as he enjoyed the sight of his toy, once again in the position that he’d chosen for her.  After watching Helena sleep for a few minutes, Victor got up out of the bed, pulled on a pair of faded jeans, and padded barefoot down the hallway to the kitchen.  There he prepared a light breakfast for the two of them.  Normally he would have Helena preparing the meals, but as he’d said himself, she had been lowered in status from “slave” to “toy,” and toys by nature, were incapable of doing housework and chores.  But that was alright, as he’d be making sure she did absolutely nothing for herself during their stay at the cabin.

       He prepared the two plates of fruit and toast, then made his way back down the hall to the bedroom.  As he’d expected, the noise he’d made moving around in the kitchen had woken Helena, but with the new rules in place, she wasn’t sure what was expected of her.  She lay looking up at him, he could see the expectation of chastisement in her clear blue eyes.  Normally set in her flawless face, her bright eyes were now framed by the bold black of the mask.

       He stepped forward, gripping the ring of her collar, he pulled her up to her knees on the bed, facing him.  Kneeling on the bed, Helena was level with Victor, he stood caressing her face through the leather mask, as he yet again, just paused to take in the sight of her in such a position.

       “Did you sleep well toy?” Victor asked.

       Remembering her Master’s rule that she may not speak, Helena nodded her head that she had. 

       His finger still holding the ring at her collar, Victor urged her from the bed and down to the floor, on her knees.  He picked up the leash and clipped it to her collar, then led her out of the bedroom and down the hall.

       They entered the kitchen together, him walking, her crawling.  Victor led Helena to the table, then halted her and left her kneeling beside his chair.  He unsnapped the leash from her collar and set it aside.  Then he picked up the two plates of food and sat one down on the floor before Helena’s kneeling form and sat down in his chair, setting his on the table.  He’d included finger food in the meal, so Helena didn’t require the use of a fork.

       He told her that she may eat, and they ate their breakfast there in the kitchen.  Victor looked down, watching his slave the entire time.

       When they were done, he reached down and retrieved Helena’s plate, picked his own up and stood, turning to the sink to deposit them there for later.

       Victor picked the leash up again, snapped it to Helena’s collar and led her from the kitchen and out into the living room.  He headed for the front door, Helena followed.

       Before he’d gone to bed the night before, Victor had been sure to leave the length of chain and two padlocks he’d brought next to the door.  Arriving at the front door, he bent over to pick up the metal objects, then with a tug at Helena’s leash, had her standing in front of the door.

       Victor opened the door and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. 

Helena obediently followed, barely able to breathe as she was led outside without clothes, at the end of the leash and masked as she was.  Her Master had never done anything so openly bold to her as this, in the back of her mind she knew that there wasn’t a single person for miles around, still, even thinking of that didn’t overcome the sheer rush of stepping outside in her current state.  It caused her heart to flutter ever faster and the world swam into deeper, richer colors in the most surreal fashion.

It was the perfect California spring morning, not too hot, nor too cool, the sun was shining high in the sky, bathing the world in dazzling radiance.  Victor led Helena down the steps, and then onto the lush, soft grass of the front yard, the warm blades bent under their bare feet.

Victor walked right up to a medium-sized spruce tree centered in the middle of the yard and dropped one end of the chain at the base.  Still holding one end of the chain in his hands, he looped it around the tree and secured the loop to the tree’s trunk with one of the padlocks.  He snapped the lock closed, connecting two links together and removed the key from the bottom of the brass padlock.  Victor bent down and picked up the other end of the chain, stood up and held it with one hand while the other removed the leash from the collar’s ring.  Hanging the now freed leash over his shoulder, he hooked the open padlock to the large ring at the front of the collar, then brought the end of the chain up to thread it into the open lock as well.  With an audible snap, he closed the padlock, chaining Helena’s collar to the tree.

Victor turned and strode away, only looking back once to say, “Don’t go wondering off.”

Helena was left standing there, naked in the warm morning sunlight, her face hidden behind the discipline hood.  If not for the mask, her bright blush would have been quite evident.  She stepped away from the tree, watching the length of chain lying at the base extend out, until she reached its full extension.  Her Master had given her about ten feet of freedom from the tree, she would not be allowed to venture any further until he made it possible.  Her heart somehow found a way to beat even faster as she imagined even now, some kindly neighbor, having heard that Victor was up at the cabin, coming to pay an unannounced friendly visit.  She imagined she would pose quite a mystery to someone pulling into the driveway, completely nude, masked, and chained to a tree like a misbehaving animal.

She lay down on the sun-warmed grass, the yard was actually quite comfortable.  Her eyes wandered lazily across the scenery from within the confines of her discipline hood, the glare on the windows of the cabin prevented her from seeing if her Master was watching her.

He was indeed watching her.  In fact, he was zooming in with the digital camera he’d brought and was snapping pictures of the scene before him.  It was like a nature scene, if kink and BDSM could coincide with nature.  The bright, green woods made an unexpectedly appealing backdrop to his masked and chained toy, sunning herself in the yard.  Again he reflected on how lucky he was to have come across Helena, a submissive slave most dominants dream about but rarely find.

Putting his ruminations on hold, Victor went into the kitchen and took care of the small mess he’d made while making breakfast, as well as washing the dishes.  He then went about unpacking the luggage he’d brought, mostly different implements of torture as well as bondage equipment, things he considered bare essentials.  That taken care of, Victor dressed more thoroughly, putting on socks and hiking boots as well as a plain white t-shirt.  He then packed a few things he’d need for the little hike he had planned for his slave in a backpack and shrugged it over his shoulders.

The leash again hung over his shoulder, Victor stepped out of the cabin and down the steps.  He walked toward Helena, still chained to the tree, she rose to her knees as he approached.  Putting the key to the padlock from his hip pocket, he held the lock with his other hand and inserted the key, twisted it and unlocked the padlock, letting the chain fall with it to the grass.  He replaced the padlock with the leash and pulled Helena to her feet once again.

Victor turned to his left and headed out into the woods, leading Helena by the leash at his side.  Helena felt herself again plunging into the surreal, being led by her leash, naked and hooded through this untouched mountain forest.  She never would have been able to guess that after discovering her submissive nature, she’d be in a situation such as this.  It was scary and invigorating, somehow all at once.

Victor led her a few hundred meters out into the woods, until all traces of humanity vanished, the cabin far from sight, and it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world.  He led Helena most of the way, he picked her up in his arms and carried her over some areas where he considered the forest ground too rough for her bare feet.  After a while he found a tree suitable for his purposes.

He walked up to this chosen tree, another spruce, but smaller than the one he’d chained her to in the yard.  Using his hands, he maneuvered Helena to where he wanted her, kneeling with her back to the tree, her feet extending around and touching on the other side.  He removed the leash from her collar and hung it from a low branch nearby.  He took the backpack from his shoulders and set it to the ground beside his kneeling toy, opened it and pulled out a piece of rope first.  He walked behind the tree and tied Helena’s hands tightly together behind the trunk.  Victor then removed another piece of rope from the backpack and tied Helena’s ankles together behind the tree.  Her limbs bound around the tree behind her in the green grace of the forest, Helena had never felt so vulnerable in her entire life.  The whole front of her body was open to whatever her Master wanted to do, she was trapped there on her knees, collared and masked.

Victor reached into the bag once more and pulled out the two attachments that came with the discipline hood, the blindfold and leather stuff gag that connected by snaps at four corners around the mouth and eye holes.  He crouched down in front of Helena’s trapped, kneeling form and without a word placed the blindfold over her eyes, snapping the four snaps together, efficiently sealing off all light that might have penetrated into the eyeholes.  He leaned forward until his lips met hers, kissing the only part of her face left uncovered with quiet force and passion.

Again, the kiss through the mask somehow sent Helena’s heart galloping once again, she couldn’t even understand why.

Breaking the kiss he raised the leather stuff gag to her mouth, “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

She complied immediately, he slide the black leather piece into her mouth and pressed the snaps surrounding the now covered mouth opening, sealing it and her in silence.

Reaching into the backpack again, Victor this time produced nipple clamps connected by a thin sparkling metal chain.  He faced Helena again and without warning, let one clamp close over her exposed and pierced right nipple. 

Helena’s reaction was instant within her head bondage, her muffled scream could be heard clearly from her gagged mouth and covered face.  Victor ventured to wonder how loud she would have been if she hadn’t been gagged and hooded as she was.  With that thought, he fastened the other clip to her left nipple, the chain hanging between the two was a kind of darkly unique jewelry.  He liked it. 

Unfortunately for Helena and her poor tortured breasts, Victor was not quite done.  This time when he reached into the backpack he pulled out two fishing weights, each weighing one pound.  He didn’t hesitate to hang them like Christmas ornaments from the chain hanging between Helena’s hurting nipples.

Helena screamed and cried at the constant tugging at her breasts, nonetheless enjoying every moment of her torment.        

Victor pulled one last thing from the backpack as he stood up and stepped back from Helena.  With one last adoring look at his toy, he turned and ventured further into the woods, allowing Helena to think that he was leaving her there.  She cried after him, struggling to make her panicked fear clear through the gag.

She needn’t have worried though, Victor wasn’t going far, only far enough to make her think he’d left her.  And what he’d pulled from the backpack and tucked into his waistband was a loaded pistol.  This part of Big Bear wasn’t populated by much wildlife and there was nothing, man or beast, that could get to his toy before he could, so fierce was Victor in the protection of his property that was Helena, that the dedication in which a lioness guarded her cub would pale in comparison to what he would do to protect her..  But he believed in being prepared, hence the pistol.

Helena continued to whimper at the prospect of being left there in the forest as much as from the pain from the nipple clamps.  Victor’s footsteps on the soft forest ground were silent, as he walked away, facing backwards to watch her.  He could barely take his eyes off her, such was the visual she created there on the forest floor.  Just like back at the cabin when he’d looked out at her lying in the yard, chained to the tree, the nature scene, injected with a healthy dose of BDSM eroticism, flowed absolutely perfectly, as if she were the centerpiece of a vast display.  And that she was indeed on display, his centerpiece.  All the energy that she put into submitting to him, he reciprocated in making her his number one priority.  His mind worked constantly, churning up new ideas and themes, things that bring satisfaction and release to each of them together.

Helena struggled at her bonds and whimpered into her gag while Victor looked on, enjoying perhaps the sexiest show he’d ever seen, and the sole actress was his toy.

He watched her like that for a while, then decided that she’d been “alone” long enough.  She heard him approach when he got close, but in her forced darkness she had no way of knowing that it was him.  He decided not to torture her with the prospect of being stumbled upon in these isolated woods by a stranger.

“Calm down my toy, it’s me,” he said reassuringly.

Helena wasn’t able to calm down, if anything, she became more anxious as she knew that his return meant something was about to happen.

Victor again knelt in front of his toy.  Rope and painful jewelry wasn’t the only thing he’d brought on their little hike.  Reaching into the backpack again, Victor this time produced a vibrator.  He let the hanging fishing weights, currently weighing on Helena’s pained nipples, touch the vibrator as he switched it on.  The thrumming vibrations translated through the weights, pulling taut on the chains which in turn conducted the vigorous movement up to Helena’s nipples.  She squealed into her gag at the sensation, more anguish added to the painful clamps.

Victor then lowered the humming toy, touching all the way down the center of her body, until he reached her sensitive pussy.  Once there, he tapped it lightly against her already wet outer lips and clitoris, causing Helena to moan, this time in pleasure.  He applied steady pressure with the vibrator, and Helena’s body quickly reacted, moistening her lower region quite nicely.  The high pitched whine of the vibrator’s constant movement became a deep hum as Victor pushed it up inside of Helena, entering her body with the toy.  She accepted it, her juices letting the toy shove easily and deeply as it jumped and stuttered at a manic pace.  Victor listened and watched as Helena came from the manual stimulation, her sweet juices running down the vibrator as she knelt, gagged, masked, and bound to a tree with her nipples afire.

Victor continued stimulating his toy with the vibrator, amusing himself with her gagged moans and violent thrashing within her bondage, she came three more times while bound against the tree.  He felt himself becoming more and more aroused, until he could stop himself no longer.  He pulled the vibrator from his toy’s body, it was drenched and covered with her juices as he placed it back in the bag. 

He stood up, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants along with his underwear, his cock stood stiff and erect away from his body.  Victor released the snaps holding the gag in place, removing it from her lips, and lowered himself to Helena’s still gasping mouth.  He wasted no time in shoving himself into her mouth and down her throat.  He loved watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth, framed by the discipline hood covering her face, enjoying the fact that he was enjoying her as he said he would, as nothing more than a fuck toy.

Robbed of her face and her identity, reduced to a body tied to a tree in a forest, Helena took Victor’s cock into her throat as he fucked her mouth.  She let him use her mouth as he thrust his hips forward relentlessly, again and again, showing her no mercy as she struggled for breath in the darkness of the discipline hood.

Helena was dimly aware of hearing Victor’ low moans reach a peak, and then she felt and tasted him cum hard into her mouth.  Knowing her role well, she swallowed all of his cum as his thrusts slowed, then stopped, and he pulled himself from her lips.

Victor gently removed the snaps securing the blindfold over her eyes, putting it and the leather stuff gag back in the backpack.  She slowly opened her eyes as she struggled to adapt to the light he now allowed to reach her eyes.  Then he set about freeing her from the tree.  He first untied her ankles, then her wrists.  He stepped back around the tree and gently helped Helena to her feet.  He placed the ropes in the backpack, then released the nipple clamps from her sore breasts.  Helena sucked air in between her teeth at the fresh pain brought on by the renewed blood flow.

Lifting the backpack to his shoulders once more, Victor reattached the leash to Helena’s collar and started leading her back to the cabin.  They made quick time back, and as before, Victor lifted and carried his barefoot toy through the rough spots.

They arrived back at the cabin, Victor led Helena inside and sat her down on the couch, telling her to rest for the moment.  He went to the kitchen and wet a rag under the sink, then walked back to his seated toy and began to clean the dirt from her knees and the bottoms of her bare feet.  Once her feet were clean, he checked to make sure she’d sustained no cuts from the hike and was happy to see that she hadn’t.

Victor walked to the bedroom and changed from the jeans and hiking boots to a pair of white lightweight athletic shorts and running shoes.  Once again fully dressed, he grabbed a pair of socks and Helena’s running shoes, and then walked with them back to the living room.

“Put these on,” he ordered, setting Helena’s shoes and socks down in front of her.

Helena quickly bent forward and pulled the socks, then the shoes on and tied the laces while Victor stood watching.  Her leash still hung from her neck, he’s let it lay next to her on the couch, he grasped the leather loop handle and pulled her to her feet once more. 

Helena stood, still nude and still masked, but with her running shoes added to the simple ensemble.  Victor led her back outside and down the porch steps, he headed out to the dirt road as she followed a half step behind.  Once out on the dusty road, Victor turned to his toy, standing naked, masked and leashed beside him.

“Stretch out,” he said.

Helena’s eyes widened as she realized what he had planned for her.  Victor was Helena’s Master, but he was also her personal trainer, keeping her in top physical condition at all times.  Though he trained her in two different aspects of her life, one aspect being her physical conditioning, the other being her sex life, he’d always wanted to combine the two and dominate her using both.  Sometimes when he was working on weight-training exercises with her in the gym, he would see things that at that very moment he would have liked to fuck her on, or whip her with, or tie her to; it just went on and on.

He was taking this little vacation away from the daily grind to realize some of the fantasies he’d been having about Helena but was unable to carry out because of the nature of them.  Now, here, standing on this isolated mountain dirt road, watching his slave, naked, masked, on her leash, stretching her quadriceps and hamstrings, Victor smiled at finally bringing his idea to life.  He stretched himself out as he thought and watched her, able to gaze at every single curve of her body.

After a few minutes of light stretching, he said, “Let’s go toy,” and they started off at a slow jog.

She stayed close to him as she ran down the road, naked except for her shoes, collar, and mask.  The leash hung between them, connecting them, from his right hand to her neck.

As much as she tried to wrap her mind around what was happening, Helena just could not accustom herself to what they were doing.  Being forced to remain completely naked and masked all the time was such a new thing, then having all these additional elements thrown in as well, such as walking into the forest, now getting exercised, running down the road, on her leash no less.  The experience was almost too much for her, she just relied on her never-ending trust in her Master, and in the meantime, enjoyed what was happening to her.

Victor slowed his pace and Helena adjusted hers to match his.  He steadily slowed them down until they were walking, then he halted Helena in the middle of the sun baked mountain road.  Still holding her leash, Victor circled behind Helena and wrapped his arms around her body and she let herself melt back against him.

Both Victor and Helena were in amazing shape, they were not breathing hard.  Nevertheless, Helena’s breathing did pick up a notch as Victor let his hand slowly slide between her legs.  He felt his toy react to his wandering fingers, as he had known she would.  He slid his left hand over her clit and started to tease and caress while the fingers of his right hand entered Helena, she held her knees apart to make it easy for him and started to moan quietly.

Still rubbing her with his left hand, Victor slowly pulled the fingers of his other hand from her pussy, gently gripped her right wrist and replaced his insistent fingers with her own.  As he let Helena finger herself, he slowly eased her to a squatting position, using his own body to guide her there.  Victor then eased back and straightened back up to a standing position, he circled back around in front of Helena, still holding her leash while she looked up at him from within the mask, squatting and fingering herself on the dirt road.

“That’s right my toy, pleasure yourself while I watch,” Victor commanded.

Helena had fully and wholeheartedly outgrown her apprehension, brought to this new level of acceptance by her loyalty and trust in her Master.  She found the greatest pleasure in the simply humiliating and degrading position she’d been placed into, even gently eased into.  While most women would have been appalled, Helena was aroused, to be viewed, objectified in such a way, masked and collared, looking up at her Master while she touched herself.  Soon she could take it no more, she wanted to ask for permission to have the orgasm that was fast-approaching, but she knew that she wasn’t allowed to speak, that she was nothing more than his fuck toy, and that final thought sent her screaming over the edge of the orgasm.

Not seconds after the last pleasurable shudders had racked her body, she was pulled up and forward by the leash.  Victor hustled her over to the edge of the road and shoved her up against a tree, bent over with her arms in front of her, gripping it and holding herself against it.  Viewing his toy bent over in front of him, Victor shoved the shorts down and out of the way, gripped her hips and entered her from behind.

Helena cried out as he slid himself all the way inside of her, then more as he started fucking her.  She couldn’t have kept quiet if she wanted to, as hard as Victor was fucking her.  She tried to picture what the encounter would look like if someone were to come across them, a woman, wearing nothing but running shoes and a black leather mask concealing her face, bent over against a tree, getting fucked by a man in athletic clothing.  She loved it, she wanted more, so much more. 

And she got it.  Victor drove himself forward like a man possessed, his sexual energy came directly from dominating.  While some men may get off on women kissing each other, redheads, or stewardess uniforms, Victor got off on only one thing: dominating a true submissive.  Looking down at his toy, masked and leashed, while she fingered and pleasured herself on an open mountain road, he could think of no more perfect example of a power exchange.  He loved everything about Helena, from the little he’d dressed her in, to her total focus on her own body and pleasure.  He wanted her right then, so he took her, for she rightfully was his to take.  She was his property, and he made this quite clear as he fucked her.

The session was perfect, even up to the climax, as they both reached the peak of their orgasms at the very same time.  So linked in their pleasure, it was as if they shared one dazzling orgasm instead of two separate ones that just happened to be at the same instant.  Victor ground himself forward one last time as Helena reared back to receive him and they both cried out at the sheer pleasure of the moment.

Their rhythm slowed and finally, regrettably they stopped, wishing that the moment could have been prolonged much, much longer, perhaps even forever.  Helena winced slightly within the mask as Victor slowly pulled himself from within her.  They straightened up and Helena turned to her Master as their breathing slowed.  Victor pulled the athletic shorts back up and looked down at Helena.

Victor, with a slight smile, reached up and ran his fingers down the bare skin of Helena’s body, from her shoulders, over her breasts, and down to her hips.  Helena sighed at the soft touch as she basked in her Master’s full attention.

The leash swung slightly from her collar, hanging straight down the middle of her body.  Victor pulled it up and grasped the loop handle once more.

They started back for the cabin, Victor didn’t want to delay as the shadows grew longer, the temperature was dropping.  Only slightly as they walked, but he knew before long it would be too cool to have his toy outside.  Just walking, they nevertheless made good time back to the cabin, Victor led Helena inside and sat her down on the couch while he went to the fireplace to start a fire.  The sun had lowered down past the trees and the front room was cast in soft shadows, then the fire sparked to life, throwing its ever moving orange glow across everything it reached.

The fire was only meant to warm the cabin, not to provide light to play by in the front room.  Victor strode over to the couch, and crouched down in front of Helena.  There, he untied her shoes and removed them from her feet, then pulled her socks off as well.  He then stood up, gripped Helena’s leash once more and urged her off the couch with a tug of the chain that connected them, from his hand to her throat.  He put Helena on her hands and knees and led her to the bedroom.

Once there, he halted her in the center of the room, unclipped the leash and set it aside on the dresser.  He picked up the lighter he’d left on the dresser and lit the candles sitting next to it.  They glowed to life, each throwing its own orange light just as the fire in the front room did.  The light illuminated Helena’s bare form, highlighting her nakedness as if it had a deviant mind of its own. 

Victor walked to a slightly longer duffel bag that he’d yet to touch since setting it aside in the bedroom when they’d arrived.  With a flourish he unzipped it and removed a device that Helena had never seen before.  It was a silvery brushed steel bar, about three feet in length, at each end there were cuffs and in the center the smooth, straight bar was interrupted by a deep crescent, which was turned into a ring by a black leather strap that extended from each side of the crescent and met in a buckle in the center.  She may have never seen one before but she quickly figured out what the contraption was for.

Victor set the device down on the bed, his hands then went to the collar around Helena’s neck, he unfastened and removed it, discarding it on the dresser.  He picked the contraption back up and opened the buckle at the center as well as the cuffs at either end, he stood in front of his kneeling toy and lifted it behind her head.  Victor set the now opened loop around her neck, the light device now sitting on her shoulders.  Victor cinched the buckle under her chin at the front of her throat, securing the device to her body.  He then grasped her right wrist and lifted it to the cuff extending straight out from her neck, and tightened the cuff around her wrist, securing it there.  He did the same with her left wrist on the other side.  Helena’s arms were now trapped up and away from her body, in line with the bar holding them approximately 15 inches out on each side.

Helena, her arms and head restrained in the steel yoke, had never been placed in such cold, calculating bondage before. 

Stepping back to admire his toy, Victor started to undress as he watched her, removing his shoes, shirt, shorts and underwear.  He stepped to the dresser and picked up the special gag he’d acquired for the occasion.  Stepping behind Helena’s kneeling and yoked form, he brought the ring gag in front of her face and wasn’t exactly gentle when he shoved it into her mouth.  He buckled the strap over the smoothness of the leather that covered her head and slide one finger into her forced open mouth, running it over her tongue. 

Victor stepped in front of his toy and put his already half erect dick into her captive mouth.  He enjoyed the sight of her trapped arms held out to her sides by the yoke, her elegant beauty stolen by the strict looking mask, replaced by such anonymous indignity.  He took it all in as he fucked her mouth, she looked deep into his eyes from inside her mask as she gagged.

Victor abruptly stopped fucking his toy’s face and stepped around behind her once more.  With a hand at the yoke, he pulled her to her feet.  He then stepped over to the corner and picked up the wooden paddle he’d left leaning there.  It was one of the simpler implements of pain that he owned, the only thing notable about it was that he’d taken the oldest piece of advice there was in corporal punishment, and drilled holes in the wide, flat contact area.  This made it more aerodynamic, which in turn made it more effective, i.e. more painful.  Helena knew this, and she would be reminded again.

He planted the first stroke of the paddle squarely on Helena’s left ass cheek.  Helena, her mouth held open by the ring gag, was unable to hide her cry of both pain and despair.  Despair because she knew that it was just the first of what would be many blows. 

And she was right to despair because Victor brought the paddle down again, this time on her right ass cheek.  Then again, and again, always alternating between sides of her quickly and sweetly reddening ass.  He continued with the corporal punishment, enjoying the sound of Helena’s sharp cries of distress and the sight of her crimson rear end.  Victor thought Helena had a great ass, but it always looked that much better when he brought a bright blush to its surface, whether it be with his hand, floggers, whips, crops, or paddles.  He figured sitting was overrated anyways, she’d get over it.

What made her ordeal even harder was that Helena was forced to stand upright as she endured the pain of her Master’s will.  Any flinching or drawing away would only put her in a more uncomfortable position, so she stood as still as she could as the swats from the paddle continued.

His lust not slacked from the fucking he’d given her earlier, Victor found himself wanting her again, now.  He tossed the paddle aside and stepped in front of Helena’s body.  Gripping the yoke once more, he turned to the bed and led her, forcing her to step backwards, to the bed.  Once there he gave her a rough shove, she pitched backward to land on the bed, her lower body still hanging off the bed, just the way he wanted her.

He stepped between her hanging legs and lifted them up to his shoulders, he then used his hand to guide himself inside of Helena.

Victor slid easily into his toy because just as dominating was his “thing,” Helena’s own “thing” was submitting.  Nothing could replace the firm, dominating grip of her Master.  Nor could anything replace the abuse that she lived and breathed for, that she had been afraid she would never find until she’d come across Victor.  Helena was a true masochist, pain was her foreplay.  As she screamed and cried at the growing hurt Victor pounded into her ass with the paddle, she’d felt herself growing hot and wet between her thighs.  Like two intricate pieces of a complex puzzle, Helena and Victor fit together perfectly.  They completed each other.  No one could go to the extremes that Helena craved, no one except Victor.  And no one could endure the vast amounts of pain that Victor was compelled to exert, except of course for Helena.  Two incomplete lives made whole by the fierce and brutal act that they carried out, each role as important as the other.  Helena, masked, her arms and head held within the yoke, her mouth forced cruelly open by the ring gag, splayed wide and accepting, provided the fuel.  Victor, ever resourceful and creative, constantly scheming but always with the safety of his toy in mind, now currently thrusting with abandon into the submissive form before him, created the flame.  Together they burned and seared a fire of pure heat that only grew, never died or dimmed.

Helena laid back and felt wave after wave of pleasure brought on by the rough, harsh thrusts of her Master’s cock.  Restrained within the yoke, masked and gagged, she could only endure the pleasure brought on by pain, just the way she liked it, the way she craved and needed it.  The yoke just barely allowed her to look down her body at her Master’s thickness disappearing into her helpless and willing opening.  At that moment, had the ring gag not been held firmly in her mouth, she would have disobeyed his command not to speak just long enough to tell him she would never be able to say enough how glad she was to be his submissive, that he made her happier than she ever thought she could be.  But looking up the line of his hard, sweat-slicked body and into his dark eyes, she saw that as if reading her thoughts, if not her very soul, he knew exactly what she wanted to say.  She also saw that even though no gag restricted his speech, he didn’t speak as he read her thoughts, because they so mirrored his own.  In his eyes she saw that she was his idol, worthy of devotion and sacrifice, that he revered her and held her as close to him as other men do their very religions. 

Helena and Victor were on the same wavelength, practically reading each others’ thoughts, so it came as no surprise that an orgasm rocketed through their bodies at exactly the same moment.  Victor arched his back as he came hard inside of Helena’s body, just as she came on and around his, their bodies’ juices literally hot to the touch.

After descending from the climax, Victor helped Helena to scoot back until she lay fully on the bed.  He curled and intertwined his body around hers, still held open by the yoke.  His arm draped over her, Victor’ right hand lightly traced circles on Helena’s stomach.  If it weren’t for Helena’s arms held outstretched by the yoke, the discipline hood hiding her features, and the ring gag holding her mouth open, they could be mistaken for just another vanilla couple lying together after sex.  But because of reasons they would never understand, Helena and Victor’ sex life would always be marked by the warm redness of a beaten ass, the rough and stern confines of bondage, whether it be from ropes, cuffs, or a yoke, and the total, unflinching submission of one’s body, offered to, and accepted by another.