Part XII
The look of absolute horror that crossed her face as she climaxed was a knife to
my heart. I had pushed her. I knew that she would fall over the edge. I knew it.
But she needed to feel the utter loss of self-control before I could
proceed...before we could proceed. She just liked to hold onto whatever shreds
of control she could find and I had to take them away. I hated it...I hated
watching her body arch in a pleasure so painfully intense while her face
contorted in a mask of misery and shame. Orgasms were meant to be enjoyed. It
was a hard lesson, but a necessary one.
But I didn't stop there. I couldn't. I punished her, shamed her for taking the
orgasm that I knew I had forced her into and I wasn't nice about it, I wasn't
soft on her. I slapped her, spanked her, wrenched her swollen clit, and pinched
her puckered nipples. Her pained cries, her unceasing tears all begged me to
stop, but I didn't...I couldn't...I wouldn't. My gut caved in on its self, my
heart broke with every humiliated scream that came from her throat. On the
inside, I cried tears of innocence forever lost as I watched, as I listened,
unforgiving, stern, and unrelenting.
I uttered cruel things, cold words. I wasn't conscious of what I said, only the
feelings behind them, inspiring them, propelling them forth. And I knew they hit
their mark. The emotions splayed across her face, a dark mural against her fair
skin. I could feel her agony, taste her shame. This was the final
reckoning...the bridge between the life she knew before, the life we knew
before, and the one where we were heading, the one I truly believed belonged to
us. It was all or nothing. Anything less would have cheated us both. She had to
yield. She had to. Or there was no place for me in her life...and no place in
mine for her.
There comes a point where to do any more defeats the purpose and I had reached
it. My hands left her body and my mouth shut, closing off the stream of ugly
words that had been spewing forth. At this point, she was deaf to them, lost in
her own world, a world where she didn't know the rules, didn't have the power,
the control...defeat was in every line of her body and she was unused to the
feeling. Her screamed torment echoed throughout the room.
"I BEG you....please....please....please forgive me....please forgive
me....please forgive me...."
Her screamed plea slowly lowered in pitch, turning more into an incoherent
babble, desperation coating every syllable and in those two words, "I beg" hope
bloomed eternal. The cracked and broken and despairing manner in which they were
spoken did break my heart, but in as much as it was broken, so too was it
restored and made whole. I reached down and touched her face gently, taking a
seat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes blinked away the tears clouding her vision
and she looked at me.
"Would you like to try this again, my pet?"
A spark flared in her red-rimmed eyes, a flicker, nothing more and then she
nodded her head. My hand drifted from her face, traveled the length of her body
and then upped the vibe's settings, pressing it firmly against the forbidden
sweet spot nestled within her. I turned more fully to face her, holding the
vibrator with one hand, and with the other, I began stroking her body. As
tightly strung as she was, I knew it would not take long, so I took comfort with
my thoughts, with thoughts of our future as I waited for the final capitulation.
***
I jerked at his touch, at his words....a second chance? Could there be such a
thing? Would I really be given a chance to redeem myself? To show him just what
I was made of? Of what I was willing to give him? My heart sang and my spirit
lifted just a bit. I could do this...I really could. I had to. I couldn't let
him walk away without a fight...and a fight it was...a fight against myself,
against all that I knew, against all that I had been taught, a war against my
pride, my ego, my illusions of self respect. It was a fight I had to lose in
order to win.
The vibrator pulsed with a new vigor, it pushed enticingly against my inner
walls, against that spot, that spot that he knew would drive me over the edge.
My heart beat raced and nearly flew out of my chest, more from the prospect of
redemption, of being able to prove myself to him than anything else, than the
speed of the toy lodged within. His hand pressed the toy deep...his
other...stroked me and the fires that were hardly banked, hardly under control
raged and burned unchecked. But that was the point...I was finally beginning to
see that...to understand a small iota of what I was really giving up. I would
not last long...and for once I was grateful.
My body was in a vortex of pure sensation. I had no center save him and I stared
at him through a haze of passion, of receding shame, and a glimmer of hope.
Every moan, every whimper I made drove him into a frenzy, drove him relentlessly
forward, one hand manipulating the vibrator, the other my flesh. I could feel
everything but that moment slip away, nothing mattered except the man next to
me, touching me, wringing response after response from me, nothing mattered
except that crescendo that I was building towards....nothing, not even my pride.
That realization took my breath away. My mouth opened on wordless wonder, my
body arched with the feelings that swamped me, the acceptance of what I was
becoming, the transformation that was taking place. And still, the toy hummed
on, his hands stroking and cajoling my willing body into submission. My desire
to be one with him took care of the rest.
The toy buzzed to greater life and I knew the moment had come...the defining
moment, that moment that would shape all of my tomorrows...shape them...or doom
them. Every nerve ending I possessed screamed for release, glorious and sweet.
Every muscle in my body demanded ease from the strain, from the quivering, the
twitching, the bunching and pulling. There was nothing in me that didn't crave,
that didn't thirst, that didn't need.
"Milord, please...." My throat was dry and my voice sounded scratchy and raw. He
quirked a brow at me but made no other indication that he heard my plea. He
needed more from me. I shattered and splintered and reached for the strength and
courage to give it to him.
"Milord, please...." I licked my lips and looked him in the eyes, the effort
costing me more than I could say, more than I could have ever imagined. "Please,
please, Milord. Please may Your....slave....," The word got stuck at the back of
my throat...I felt the toy pressing deep, wiggling now in and out of me. I heard
my desire slurp and gurgle around the toy's gelatin like surface. I knew what he
needed to hear...and I knew that I needed to say it. I took a deep breath, as
deep as my burning lungs would allow. "Please may your slave...cum."
Tears began falling down my face as the words, as the fully formed plea came out
on a broken gasp. I couldn't deny what he did to me...the dark, hidden longings
he brought out in me. I watched as pride and dignity fled and need and desire
took their place. I couldn't look at him. My eyes fluttered closed. A painful
tightening occurred in my chest, a buzzing in my ears drowned out all other
sound...the bed beneath me disappeared; the walls around me tumbled to the
ground. I was frightened. I was euphoric. I was larger than life...and smaller
than ever.
His face bent down...his eyes hovered a mere heart beat away from mine...the
buzzing in my ears grew louder, the world around me, dimmer...the only
light...the light shining in his eyes. His mouth parted...his tongue peeked out
to wet his lips...and then...they moved...
***
I wasn't sure that my answer registered...but my actions did. I killed the
vibrator pulsing inside of her and removed it with a quick swipe of my hand. The
other hand dropped away from her body as I stood and took a few backward paces.
Her face twisted into an ugly mask...first shock, then hate, primal and dark. A
low, guttural howl of soul deep pain cut through the air, whistling eerily,
completely at odds with the warm and inviting atmosphere of the decadent
chamber.
I knew she didn't understand. I knew she couldn't. The only thing she understood
right then was that she broke, that she had tossed aside her long cherished
pride and submitted. And I had denied her. Me. Her Master had denied her. Her
eyes betrayed her hurt, her anguish, her confusion. I could read the questions
flowing through them easily. Why? Why now? Why when I finally gave you
everything you asked? Everything you needed of me? Why?
In time she would understand, would come to grasp that the control was mine,
that I couldn't and wouldn't be manipulated. She had denied me first, had denied
me all that was mine, had made me question and doubt and ache in pain and
sorrow. Like begets like. I hoped that she would also come to understand that
saying no hurt me as much as it did her. It wasn't the same kind of pain, but it
hurt just the same. She needed this lesson much more than she needed release. I
would help her understand, make her understand. But not now. Not now.
I removed myself from her presence, her choking, gut wrenching sobs too much to
bear and maintain the course I had set. I sat by the fire in the main sitting
area and again contemplated what had brought me here, had brought her to my side
and had now put us both here together. The thoughts were punctuated by her sobs,
her whimpers and the pounding of her heels on the bed in frustration, and both
physical and mental pain.
When the suite grew quiet I rose and went back into the bedroom. I spared a
glance her way to assure myself that she was ok...she was. She watched my every
movement with a mixture of sadness, shame and quite possibly regret. I only
hoped that she was regretting her stubborn pride and not coming to see me. Time
would tell soon enough.
I went to the bathroom and disrobed, stripping down to what God gave me and
chuckled softly as I realized that my passions were still very much unattended
to as well. Hopefully, that would be taken care of in the near future, and
hopefully by the woman that I longed to call slave.
I banked the fire and doused all the lights and candles basking the room in
their warm glow save the one by the bed. The collar, resting there forgotten in
the maelstrom of emotions, caught its dancing light and twinkled. I proceeded to
unchain her, leaving her ankles encased by their supple leather bands but
completely removing the hand cuffs which had held her wrists fast for many
hours. Only a faint red line circled her wrists. The cuffs had not been locked
too tightly and for that I was glad. But I rubbed them briskly anyway, bringing
warmth back to her slightly chilled fingers. I then sat on the edge of the bed
and picked up the collar.
She remained still as a rock, only her eyes moving to follow my actions. I sat
on the edge of the bed cradling the collar in my hands and regarded her.
"You have a better understanding of what this means now, I think."
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small "o". Yes, I could see that she
did. Her eyes darted back and forth between mine and the collar I was holding.
Back and forth. I could hear her brain chugging along, trying to process this
information. The heat of her gaze plumbed my depths.
"Will you accept it? Will you wear it knowing all that it entails? Good and bad,
pain and pleasure alike?" The grandfather clock in the corner began to chime out
the hour...
DONG
I held my breath and waited.
DONG
My future rested upon her answer.
DONG
My grip tightened on the collar, my knuckles going white with the force of it.
DONG
I squirmed in my seat.
DONG
My palms grew cold and clammy.
DONG
Sweat broke out along my brow.
DONG
I did something that I hadn't done in ages...I prayed.
DONG
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly.
DONG
My heart stopped in my chest.
DONG
A smile to rival the sun broke out across her face.
DONG
She nodded.
DONG
A new day...a new life.
***
The End.
