Special Delivery

 

Part I

She was there. In my bed. And I didn’t know how she got there, who she was. But she was there just the same. And she was stunning. Not just stunning, either, exquisite, spectacular, a one of a kind specimen…at least in my book. I turned around quickly and looked at the door as it closed behind me. I stepped back through it and looked at the numbers on the door. 4-C. Yes. That is my apartment number, or at least it was when I left this morning.

I stepped back in the room and bolted the door behind me. I looked at the bed again. Her big blue eyes blinked back at me. Big, clear blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, cloudless, pure, innocent and they were aimed right at me. Oh, dear. Who the hell was she? And more importantly, how did she end up on my bed…in the state she was in?

Let me explain what I’m talking about here, for this is not your ordinary find. In the middle of my small loft, a one room, airy, artistic studio, smack dab in the center of my bed, lying spread eagle upon the hand sewn quilt was a woman wearing nothing more than a red camisole top, at least as far as actual clothing goes.

A bright blue bandana, matching the crystalline blue of her eyes, cleaved her mouth. Black leather cuffs circled her wrists, another pair, her ankles. Chains were attached to the cuffs, stretching her limbs wide, binding them to the corners of my four poster bed. Her hair…oh my…a shiny, lustrous blanket the color of burnt sienna flowed around her, providing a heartbreakingly beautiful contrast to her pale, translucent skin.

I had stepped into my apartment expecting to find life as normal, as I had left it just hours before…but found heaven instead.

So I stepped closer. I am not sure if I expected her to vanish into thin air, a trick of my eyes that would go away once I came to my senses, or what. But every step I took just reaffirmed her presence…her very real and unaccountable presence in my home. Not that I was about to complain, mind you…oh no. I was not. This was a dream come true. And I was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I was curious though…Who exactly did I have to thank for it?

She continued her steady gaze at me, watching every move I made. And I didn’t blame her. I mean, she was tied up, helpless, in my home, on my bed…who wouldn’t be concerned? And if she knew anything about me…hell, my mother was afraid of me and she didn’t even know the half of it.

I reached the foot of the bed and reached out a shaky hand. I had to know…I had to know if she was real, if she was flesh and blood. I still couldn’t bring myself to believe it. I hadn’t told anyone about my hidden desires, my secret fantasies. Yes, it was my birthday, but no one knew! No one knew about this part of me. And I expected cards and cheesy gifts…but this? Nothing in my life had shocked me more than this sight…nothing. I was caught completely off guard…and this was not how I liked to be.

She flinched at my touch and in that moment, with that one slight gesture, I knew. This was not a trick, this was not a figment of my imagination, the drinks I had at dinner, courtesy of my co-workers, had worn off and I had nothing to blame this specter on.

To my credit, I did go to the phone and pick up the handset. Who was I going to call? I’m not sure exactly, the police, social services, the press. I wasn’t thinking all that clearly, still stunned by the magnificent picture she presented. I even placed my fingers on the number pad, but I couldn’t dial. My hands were trembling and I only had one thought as I replaced the handset back in the cradle: Possession is nine tenths of the law.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I challenge anyone, everyone to do the right thing. But then again, right and wrong are subjective things, as I had just learned. With that one statement, I had managed to completely rationalize her presence in my home…and everything that I was going to do to her. Ah, yes. Possession. I was very familiar with it.

I went back to the door and checked the locks. They were secure. I went to the windows and shut the blinds and even dropped the drapes closed. That was something that I had never done, as evidenced by the deep crease in them from the tie backs. But I never thought to check the answering machine, if I had, my self conscious would have been eased. It wasn’t in bad shape, mind you, I had made my decision, but there was still a slight niggling in the deep recesses of my mind.

I pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. Damn her wide, blue eyes. They were still looking at me, had never left me. They were haunting, beautiful, heady, and much too direct. I laid a hand on the exposed expanse of her thigh and it was as soft and smooth to the touch as it looked. So soft, so creamy, like spun silk through my fingers and I savored the sensation, softly stroking, caressing.

I broke the silence and spoke to her quietly. “You are here in my home. I don’t know who you are or where you come from.” My hand drifted down and caressed her calf and I looked her in the eye. “But I don’t care.” I felt her tremble and I smiled. My hand continued on its course and cupped the arch of her foot, so small and dainty in my work roughened hand. “For tonight at least, you are mine. I don’t know what the morning will bring, but I do know what tonight will.”

For the first time since I stepped into my apartment, her eyes wavered. A small sound escaped from the sides of her cleaved mouth. It could have been a whimper, it could have been a small oath, it could have been anything. But as I said before, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Possession was nine tenths of the law, and she was in mine…

I rose and lit a host of candles that were scattered about the place. I hated the harsh light of the fluorescent lamp overhead and I wasted no time in dispatching it. And, truthfully, despite my hidden, darker desires, I was a hopeless romantic and I liked a nice, soft stage to perform in. It was a special day for me…it was my birthday, and yet a vain part of me wanted this to be a night for her to remember, for as long as she drew breath.

Once that chore was out of the way, I went back to the bed and checked out her restraints. Fortunately, the chains were not locked in place. They were attached with a quick connect that I could easily remove. Given the way she had been stretched, there was no way for her to remove them, but it would be no problem for me. I nodded my thanks to the gods and bent to undo her ankles.

She stayed perfectly still; the only movement she made was a slight twitch of her big toe. I walked to the other end of the bed and bent over her wrists, then stopped. I went over to a cedar chest flush against the wall and opened it. I removed a pair of sturdy, stiff leather suspension cuffs and a few heavy locks. I pocketed the locks and the key ring hanging on the side of the chest, the jangling stirring all of my inner needs and fantasies. Soon, I told myself…have patience…go slow.

I went back to her and looked at her sternly. “Do not move.” Her eyes got wider and she nodded slowly. I undid her wrists and to her credit, despite the nervous tremors skating visibly along her skin, she remained in position, even after the chains were released. I took her two small wrists in my hands and pulled her to a seated position, and then continued pulling until she was standing before me.

My, but she was a small little package. She barely reached my chin and I smiled in glee. This night was looking better and better. She was still and quiet and she merely watched as I removed the cuffs that she was wearing and replaced them with the heavier version in my hands. She watched as the locks clicked shut but I did notice the extended time her eyes remained closed on the downward part of a blink. She was affected. She’d have been a fool not to have been.

I led her to an open corner of the room, positioning her in front of a closet door, face to the closet. I reached into my pockets and withdrew two more heavy locks and copped a squat next to her. “Spread your legs.” She did. She was very compliant…at least so far. “Wider.” I nodded in satisfaction as she got her ankles positioned in front of the eye bolts conveniently placed at the corners of the closet door. I locked those delicate ankles in place, not able to resist stroking her calves in the process.

I stood back up, letting the hand on her calf follow my progress, skimming over her thigh, her full, heart shaped bottom, coming to rest on her lower back. I caressed there, running my hand in slow circles, feeling her soft quivering flesh. I pulled myself out of it. She was not ready yet…almost, but not quite.

I took her hands in mine, turned them over and kissed her palms, taking a moment to look at her in the process. Her eyes were a little turbulent now, emotions beginning to simmer and boil within their depths. And I liked it…I really liked it. I stretched out and, withdrawing two more locks from my pocket, I locked first one of her wrists, and then the other, to the corresponding eyebolts in the upper corners of the closet door. Well, not the top most, for she was much too tiny for that. But I had a wide variety of play partners of varying heights and there were several rows of eyebolts for that purpose.

I stood back to survey my work and nodded in deep satisfaction. She was stretched out, naked as the day she was born, her creamy skin showcased by the dark paneling of the door. Her hair cascaded down her back, a decadent, sinful blanket around her. Her buttocks winked and dimpled invitingly at me, her flanks quivered. Oh, yes. Now she was ready. And so was I.

***

 

Part II

 

Looking down, I realized that I was not dressed appropriately for the evening that was quickly unfolding around me. I would need to take care of that, but first I needed to check on my prize. I leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Do you need something to drink, my dear? Use the toilet? Hm?” I caressed her cheek. “You will be here quite a while, you now….”

She mutely shook her head, her eyes wide with a bit of worry at my last proclamation. Part of me was tempted to remove the gag so that I could hear her voice, but it matched so nicely with her eyes, that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Oh well. It mattered not. She made her answer known. I patted her head but I couldn’t resist running my hand through her silky tresses as I turned and walked towards my armoire.

What to wear…now that was a good damned question. I wanted to make a statement, an impact, but I didn’t want to scare her. Well, ok. I didn’t want to scare her too much. A little fear is a great tool, I’ve found. Hmm. I rifled through the items hanging in the armoire and then my face lit up as I spotted the perfect item. I love it when that happens.

I pulled out the hunter green bustier and the matching velvet frock. The frock was medieval in design, soft, flowing, and yet rather authoritative, with its gold braid trim, it’s smooth lines, its luxurious fabric. The bustier worn beneath it enhanced my ample assets, lifting them up, causing them to spill forth from the bodice of the frock. I dressed quickly, deftly, not wanting to waste much time with logistics. I wanted to open my gift…wanted to tear into actually.

Dressed at last, I closed the armoire and smiled softly as I saw my hanging goodie flinch at the sound of the heavy wood door swinging shut. I walked back to her, feeling my palms sweat in anticipation. I was anxious, I was excited…I was trembling, too. Reaching her, I took a steadying breath. Her bottom was too inviting for her own good, really, it was. And I didn’t see any reason to resist.

I ran a hand along her quivering flanks, closing my eyes on the warmth, the softness, the vulnerability of it. It would require a lot of concentration to go slow. For all of her quietitude, her compliance, something kept telling me that she was not going to be an easy one. I really hoped that to be the case. I didn’t like a quick conquest. No. I liked a measure of chase, of challenge, pitting my will against hers. I grinned, a silly lopsided smile. I couldn’t help it. Already my blood was boiling, the hair on my arms on end, my nipples tight in the sheer exhilaration of the moment.

My toy chest was open wide, waiting silently for me, but I didn’t think I would need anything from it for a few moments. I wanted to touch…skin to skin, hand to…well, hand to whatever I damned well pleased. I ran that hand down her sides, along her back. I smelled her hair, breathed into her ear. She was trembling, her eyes were half shut, she was quiet and still. I shifted so that I was standing off to her side, still stroking her, still touching her, still absorbing the sensations.

My hand lingered on her butt cheek, my nails lightly scratching the creamy surface, my hands squeezing and plumbing the softness. It was such a ripe bottom. I was a fortunate woman, indeed. Whatever good deeds I had done this year to merit this kind of gift, I wish I knew. I would repeat them over and over. I reached a hand around to her front and pinched a nipple. I smiled at her muffled squeal. Ah. That got a reaction from her. Good. About time.

I twisted her nipple and at the same time, raised the other hand high into the air. I smiled as my hand whistled sharply before connecting with a resounding SMACK on the once pristine white of her ass. Her body twisted and her eyes swung open. A strangled, muffled sound that could only be described as a cross between a shocked gasp and a pained whimper emerged from behind the soggy bandana filling her mouth. I reveled in it.

My hand rose again, and fell again, not once, not twice, but ten times more, as I twisted at her nipples, turned her fanny bright red. My hands were as warm as her bottom, or was it the other way around? I didn’t matter. The result was the same, a warm tingling in my palms that warmed my soul even further.

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes, but still she managed to hold them back. Pain was evident in the color of her eyes, once blue, happy and sweet, now grey, stormy and savage. I was impressed with her. But I wasn’t finished. Oh, no. I was just getting started. This was only the first course of this feast. She might be strong now. She might be able to hold them back now. But she wouldn’t be able to later. I broke them all…sooner or later. It was what I did. What I loved…and consequently, what I was good at.

I released her nipple with one last brutal twist and saw her gritted teeth, saw the ragged release of breath. No. It wouldn’t be too much longer. Everyone had limits. Everyone. Apparently hers were a good bit further than I thought. She seemed pure and fresh when I had first spied her on the bed…maybe that was part of her appeal. But she was a fighter. She was not going down easily. Oh, yes. What a great gift!!! Splendid!

I flexed my hand and eyed the cedar chest, still open, still waiting. I smiled, slow and wide. She would need a bit more…help, a bit more convincing before she handed me what I wanted. And that was ok by me. More than ok, in fact. This resistance, defiance of hers was only whetting my appetite. Poor dear. She would learn. I shrugged. Or she wouldn’t, either way, it mattered not.

The phone rang suddenly and I glared at it. Let the machine get it, I muttered. I wasn’t about to break the spell I was working on. I heard it continue to ring and I stroked the warm surface of her buttocks. She flinched, slightly. I grinned slightly back. I ran my nails, grazing across the glowing swath. I chuckled quietly as I watched her tried to bite back the groan I knew she wanted to give voice to. Ah…my little fighter. You just keep fighting, dear…You just keep fighting…I’ll keep dishing it out and we’ll see who breaks first…

The answering machine picked up, the caller hung up. Good. I didn’t want or need any distractions. I squeezed her fanny. She bit down an answering grunt yet again. I applauded her. I admired her in that moment. I did. I didn’t want a weakling. What fun was there in that? What pride could I take out of breaking a twig? I wanted to fell an oak! Now that was something to write home about!

I smiled and touched her cheek, smiling at her. Her eyes blinked open and regarded me. “Still doing ok, my dear?” My hand softly stroked her face, soothing her hair back out from her eyes. She nodded shakily and I kissed that crinkled, creased forehead of hers. A little tenderness never hurt any, and I really was a softie…once you got past my need to inflict a little pain, to control, to bend my subjects to my will, I really was.

Something about her though, still didn’t quite fit. She was defiant…she was sweet…she was determined…she was innocent. No. Something just didn’t ring true. I looked at her quizzically, a thoughtful frown upon my face.

What was that in the air? My nose detected the barest hint of a musky, sultry scent wafting through the air. No, it wasn’t my own. Hell yes, I was excited, but that is not the aroma that was barely present, tickling my nose lightly.

I reached between her legs and as my fingers walked up her inner thighs, she jerked and twisted and tried to close herself off to me. It wouldn’t work. She was bound wide open. Silly girl. They all did this…and that’s when it hit me. She wasn’t new to this, oh no. Not new at all. She only looked innocent, unsure, lost, helpless. She had that “Take care of me, please” look, and I certainly had responded. Only so far, sure, but I had bought into the image that she had projected just the same.

My hand reached the juncture of her thighs and I could feel the heat kicking off of her little furnace, could feel her moisture, her damp heat washing over my fingers. Oho!!! We had a player here! What fun! I giggled in unbridled delight. She thought she was getting the best of me…she thought to manipulate me! Me! But now I knew better. Alright, my devious little fuck toy, let’s see just what you got!

***

 

Part III

 

I rummaged through my toy chest…the kid gloves had come off and I was going to have some fun now. I was still chuckling to myself for getting taken in like that when my hand closed around what it was looking for. Ah, the power of pretty blue eyes! She certainly knew just how to use them, too! But I knew how to use the crop that I had wrapped my fingers around and how to use the Plexiglas paddle that I also grabbed.

I grinned and made my way back to her, where she eyed me warily. Hmm. Perhaps she had figured out that I had her number, that I was getting ready to call her bluff. An inner voice reminded me that she hadn’t gotten here by herself. I didn’t know her from Adam, and she certainly didn’t know me. Though, we were certainly getting ready to become better acquainted.

As I stepped up to her, I lifted the paddle and swatted her glowing cheeks with it. Oh, it wasn’t that hard, mind you, just a little tap so she wouldn’t forget where she was, as if she could, really. But it was sudden enough to cause her to grunt and narrow her eyes at me. That’s right, little one, you aren’t going anywhere and I’m just getting started!

I stood on the other side of her and she went to turn her head so she could watch me. I didn’t let her. I forcibly pushed her face back around.

“Not so fast, dear. Leave your head right like that.”

I felt her stiffen and bristle. She didn’t like to be man-handled, did she? She had best get used to it. I nodded and lifted the paddle to stroke the redness of her bottom. I always liked this paddle. It was clear, see through, and I could see the intended target all the way through the downward stroke, could see the flesh as it made contact with the cool Plexiglas surface. It also had numerous holes drilled through it, lessening the air resistance, giving more force behind each blow. And the best part about those little holes…if I hit hard enough, I could create polka dots!

Her breath grew more labored the longer I stroked her fanny with the paddle. She had no idea when I was going to strike, or how hard I would hit her. Truthfully, I didn’t either. I was simply enjoying her struggle, though she did her best to conceal it. But she couldn’t hide her delicate trembling, she couldn’t stop the light flinch every time I lifted the paddle, just to lay it softly back down on her skin, she couldn’t stop her breath from becoming ragged and she couldn’t mask the scent of fear mixed with arousal wafting through the air.

Finally, I reached the end of my endurance; my stores of patience had been depleted. I spoke to her as I turned the paddle so that the smooth edge scraped the skin of her flanks.

“It’s my birthday today. Did you know that?” I continued pulling the paddle along her skin, in long deliberate strokes. “I’m 43 today. I’m owed 43 spankings. I think I’ll give them to you instead.” I felt her twitch and began a light tapping of the paddle on the crease between her fanny and thighs. “Quite generous of me, don’t you think?”

I chuckled as her arms pulled a little at the cuffs. She had no slack. The eye bolts were very secure. Bigger girls than she had tried and failed. No, she wasn’t going anywhere that I didn’t want her to go. I set the crop down on the floor and stroked her back with my free hand. I applied a firm pressure on her lower back, holding her flush against the closet door. I raised the paddle.

THWACK!

She jerked and I heard the sharp intake of her breath. ‘That’s one. 42 more to go.” I chuckled softly. Her arms tensed over her head.

“Hm. Do I use this,” I lifted the paddle and smacked her a bit harder with it, “for all 42?” She grunted loudly at me, “Yes, yes, of course you’re right dear, only 41 left now. That was 2.”

I stroked her back some more, my hand climbing high, touching her neck, playing with the delicate shells of her ears. “I do hope you can count better than I…We’re liable to be here all night, if not.”

THWACK! THWACK!

Her body pulsed forward, slamming brutally into the door. I heard her shrill yelp. Yes, I had put a good bit of arm behind those two. That was three…”

“Mmphur! Mmphoor!”

“Huh? What’s that you say? Four?” I paused, deliberately, before laughing merrily. “Yes. Four. I hit your poor fanny twice more. Quite right, my dear. See what I mean?”

Her breathing had grown choppy, coming in tight little pants as I raised the paddle and put the full measure of my arm behind it.

WHACK!

She howled and chewed at the sodden bandana in her mouth. She stayed taut and tense for a full 30 seconds before sagging against the door. No doubt, she was trying to ride out the waves of pain that I knew that blow must have caused.

“That would be…um…five? Yes, five.” I laid a palm on that abused cheek and clucked my tongue against my teeth. “Oh, dear! You are getting quite toasty. Are you going to last for all 43?”

She whimpered and pulled down on the cuffs some more. I smiled wickedly. She could pull until kingdom come; she wasn’t coming down until I was damn well good and ready. But I didn’t think that would be for some time…quite some time.

I walked around her and stood on her other side. I was facing her now and I got a glimpse of the anger simmering in her eyes. My, my, my…she was a fighter. “Let’s knock this number down, shall we?”

I didn’t give her time to answer. The question wasn’t really about her preferences. I rained the paddle ten times, one after the other, each consecutive one a fraction harder than the last and by the time I was finished, she was howling, a sheen of perspiration breaking out across her brow.

She leaned heavily into the closet, her limbs shaky and she closed her eyes to mine. She didn’t want me to see the pain that she was trying so hard not to feel. She had her pride…not for much longer, true…but she still had a good bit of it left.

I chuckled and walked back around her to stand on the other side…the side that I had started with and gave her five sequential smacks to balance out the cheek count. “There. 20. Almost half way, my dear.” I heard her grunt and smiled. Half way, my ass! No, not for this morsel. She was obviously capable of so much more. But it was time to up the stakes just a bit.

Hmm. I set the paddle down and pressed my front to her backside, running my hands along her very warm bottom. I dropped one hand lower, letting it dip between her legs. She stiffened and mmph’ed softly. I stroked her labia, taking satisfaction at the moisture coating my fingers. She was very nearly dripping onto my hand, despite her obvious reluctance. I brushed her clit and felt the tremor ripple through her, felt it swell beneath my fingertips, felt the folds of her sex open.

“My dear, I have just resurfaced this floor. Do not mess it up. Do I make myself clear?” I twisted her clit between my thumb and forefinger. She couldn’t bite down the groan that escaped from behind her gag.

“You may very well be like Maxwell House, “Good to the Last Drop”, but as with my coffee, I don’t want to see it on my nice hardwood floor.” My other hand squeezed her buttocks as I continued to tease and manipulate that hard nub of nerves centered between her legs. I felt a small droplet let go and hit my palm. Oh, my, but she was a treasure!

I stepped back, with one more twist of her clit and with one gentle, lingering caress of her fanny, I picked up the crop and brought it down on the back of her thighs, just above the crease at the back of her knees. She hadn’t been prepared…the sudden blinding pain caused her to gasp sharply and her knees to buckle. I watched her arms grow tense as she struggled to get her legs to support her weight again.

As she struggled, I brought the crop down, zinging through the air and caught the lower curve of her buttocks, right there where it joined the upper portion of her thighs…the most tender of spots. Her wobbly legs buckled again, her body going limp, and the sound that emerged…ah…it was music to my ears. What number was that? I chuckled softly as I very nearly lost count myself. I quickly added it up…five, then ten…then five…one…and then one more…for a total of 22.

I grinned. How appropriate. I looked down between her legs, her whimpers exciting me beyond mere words, and saw the starting of a juicy trail, slowly running down her inner thighs. I gauged the distance to the floor…oh, about three more blows, if I wasn’t mistaken…and I rarely was. 22. Yes. Very appropriate. She was definitely in a catch 22 situation…there was no way that the floor would be clean and free of her juices. Nope. I would see to it…personally!

THWACK

I watched the droplets travel a few more inches…heard her weak moan.

THWACK

24. The fluid edged down passed her knees. Her body still hung limply…her arms must be killing her.

THWACK

25. Here we go, I thought as the liquid slipped down towards her ankles. I knew she felt it, could see the way she clenched and unclenched her fists, wiggled her ankles, could hear the frightened despair in her muffled grunts and groans. So, I gave her another, for good measure…to push her over the edge.

THWACK

The nearly silent drip drip would have been missed by just about anyone else, but it was not by me and it wasn’t lost to her either. She began trembling as I stooped down.

I ran a finger through the miniscule puddle on the floor. Oh, it hadn’t been resurfaced in ages…but she didn’t know that, didn’t need to know it. It was enough that she feared. I stood and approached her face. I held the drop up and looked accusingly at her.

“What is this?” She looked helplessly at me, shaking her head back and forth, her pathetic whimpers, incomprehensible words, each was a separate and distinct gift for me.

This was shaping up to be the best birthday…ever!

 

***

 

Part IV

 

I silently giggled in glee. It was an effort to keep my face schooled in a stern mask and I wondered briefly if she had an idea of the effect she had on me. Somehow I doubted it. If she did, she would fear so much more, she would give in while the getting was good. It was the only way to slow my course, stop me dead in my tracks. But she wasn’t giving in…at least not yet. Good girl!

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. And we had reached 26, I think. More than half way there. Hmm.” I stretched my hand out and smeared that musky, sultry drop right there under her nose. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. I grinned shamelessly. “I think a fitting punishment would be to start over…what do you think?” I cocked my head quizzically to the side.

“Mmmphhhnoooo!” She jerked on her cuffs in protest.

“Hm. No? Well, I think that it is the perfect punishment. Each time you mess my floor, I will begin at zero again. I hope for your sake that you’re a fast learner. I hope you have more self-control than the last gal that hung there.” She howled at me and her eyes turned into glacial slits. She was not happy to hear this and yet her arousal, an intoxicating scent, grew stronger with every passing minute. She may hate it, but it was there, and I couldn’t help but notice it.

I stepped behind her and decided to just savor the moment. I had a bad year and she was my sacrificial lamb, the balm to my tired soul. I wasn’t about to waste it. Oh, no. Give me a little more credit than that!

I started a good rhythm, alternating swings of the paddle on each cheek. I paused at twenty, the blood rushing in my ears drowning out all other sounds. I stared at her long and hard and then bent to check the floor. So far, so good. Her anger was helping her resist. I stepped up to her and blew softly across her cheek. She flinched and closed her eyes to me. I might have her body in my possession, but she was bound and determined not to let me get too close. Good for her. Good for her. A conquest worthy of the name, worthy of my time and effort.

I dropped the paddle to the floor, letting it hit the hardwood with a loud, dull, thud. She jerked. Yes, my pretty. It’s a substantial paddle, isn’t it? And the crop, though much lighter and much more delicate looking, isn’t too shabby, is it? Let’s find out, shall we? If she could only read my thoughts…if she only knew.

I trailed the crop up her inner thighs, teased the apex of her sex. Her eyes, still closed, tightened even further. I could see the way she bit down on the bandana…her desire to resist the pleasurable feelings evident in the rigid lines of her body, in the way her skin bristled. But I knew better. I knew her type. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t. She was wired that way, much to her dismay and my eternal delight.

I tapped that oh so beautiful gateway to her most inner recesses…once, twice, three times did I tap the leathered tip upon her. And three times did she grunt softly and three times did she steel herself for another. Before she had time to second-guess me, I brought the crop out and slapped the back of one of her deliciously curved calves. She howled in pain, unable to control it, unable to bite it back. I bent forward and chuckled knowingly in her ear.

“Weren’t expecting that, my dear?”

Her head tossed in defiance. I brought it down again on her other calf, and again and again. I rained blow upon blow on those calves until they were streaked a deep crimson color. I think I was somewhere near thirty strokes now…I wasn’t really sure. But I didn’t think she was either, so it was rather a moot point.

Drip….drip drip…..drip…

I looked down and grinned ferally. “Oh, dear…this just won’t do. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. This won’t do at all!” I bent and, noticing that her eyes were fixed on me worriedly, made an elaborate show of running a finger through the new drops on the floor. I smeared the wetness around and around and then made a smiley face. I couldn’t resist that impulse and upon seeing it, she growled…yes, she actually growled at me.

I decided that while resistance is a good thing, an exciting thing for me, disrespect was not and she had just unwittingly crossed the line. I stood up quickly and smacked her face. Much to my surprise, tears welled up in her pretty little eyes. Tears. I was momentarily taken aback and I stood back on my haunches wondering just how hard I actually hit her. And then, I deciphered the look in her eyes…humiliation.

A slow, face splitting grin spread across my face. I had it…found her button, that thing that would open her up to me…open all of her up to me, for my use, my pleasure. So, I did what anyone would do when presented with such a key…I used it. I slapped her again and she blinked fast and furiously. She didn’t want me to see it…didn’t want me to guess…to know. Too late, I thought in mock sympathy for her. It was much too late. She was mine…and in a few minutes, she would know it, too.

I grabbed a fistful of her lush tresses and yanked her head back painful. She yelped and squealed, the saline pools in her eyes growing, threatening to spill forth. “You little whore! Do you have no self-control whatsoever? What kind of slut are you? That you can stand there and mess my floor…MY floor? For what? Because of a little spanking?” I humphed loudly, disdainfully, letting scorn paint my features. “And to think I thought better of you. I mean really, carrying on like that…it’s, it’s vile!”

With every hateful word I uttered, her eyes grew rounder and rounder, filled nearly to brimming with unshed tears. Soon, those tears would splash onto her cheeks…she would feel shame…and I would rejoice. The sight of tears is such a heady thing, an intoxicating picture. Shame is sweeter to me than any confection, any perfume. Combine shame with the scent of arousal…well, that simply couldn’t be bottled, didn’t even compare to those $100 an ounce exotic fragrances distilled by hand in small labs across Europe.

I trailed a hand down her sides and lower. I cupped her shaven mound and squeezed…hard. She bit down on the bandana, sniffled and even whimpered. I had her…right where I wanted her. She was poised for the great fall. This was my favorite moment. Oh, how I loved to watch the mighty tumble. I did and I made no bones about it. None. Excitement gripped me as I prepared myself for her final spark of resistance. There would be one more…there always was. It happened a split second before the capitulation. It was brief and fleeting and easily missed. But I wouldn’t. Oh, no. I would wallow in that millisecond, sucking the marrow out of it, savoring it and storing it away to relive over and over during the next coming days, weeks, months and if it were spectacular enough, even years to come.

It would be years, I decided a few minutes later as she slumped in defeat against the door crying for all she was worth, her body taut with shame and misery, her eyes glassy with tears, her nose red, her cheeks burning hot. I had correctly surmised her greatest fears and weaknesses. And I had ruthlessly used them. And she didn’t disappoint…she…was…magnificent, splendid to behold. And to think it wasn’t a paddle or a crop that brought her low…but a few inconsequential words…inconsequential to me and perhaps many others…but not to her…not to her…

“You are pathetic…not worth my time or trouble. You cheap, two-bit pain slut. Is that all you got?”

I could still see it…hours later, reclining in my bed, exhausted, replete, but renewed and rejuvenated. Oh, what a gift! Her eyes stared unblinkingly, uncomprehendingly…she gasped, a painful, hurt sound. So small, so little, so…lost. She jerked once and then twice against her bonds, trying to distract herself with a measure of pain, of physical sensation to override her emotional agony. She failed, and in her failure, I saw the glorious woman beneath her feisty façade, the little girl devoid of fire and fight. I saw her as she was meant to be seen…small, fragile, bare…her soul and spirit exposed fully…nothing hidden…nothing held back.

And then her crumbling…her gut wrenching sobs…her muted cries…her whimpered moans, her twitching flesh, her shaky limbs. It undid me. It had been so long. I grabbed her and held her tight, cumming right then and there as she broke around me. The storm of that moment consumed me and I don’t even think she heard my whispered “Thank you.” She was lost in her own world, and I was blissfully lost in mine. Life didn’t get any sweeter than that. Oh, what a day! Oh, what a gift.

After the storm had passed, and her sobs had quieted, turning into mere ragged, indrawn breaths, I got her down and led her to the bathroom. I cleaned her up a bit not at all concerned by her vacant stare. This usually happened with the strong ones. She was in shock and locked in her own narrow world at the moment. I had no doubts that the spitfire would re-emerge and it was because of that, that I still had her hands cuffed, only this time in front of her. I was still feeling the effects of the epic orgasm, but I wasn’t that far-gone.

When I set her one the toilet, she relieved herself right away and didn’t even kick up a protest when I wiped her. I kept touching her and stroking her and smiling at her. I was powerless to stop myself. She had just given me a greater gift than I had received in a long time, and yes, dammit, I was grateful. If you only knew what it was like, you would feel the same, trust me.

When I removed the gag, I was fully prepared for a torrent of angry words…but none was forth coming. She just stood there, head lowered, still as a statue. I brought a glass of water to her lips and she drank, steadily, but not greedily, until it was empty. I then led her to the foot of the bed and at the foot of the bed I chained her, wrists to one post and ankles to the other. I pulled a blanket up and over her, and the soft, tender part of me won out and I placed a pillow under her head. I crawled into bed, rested my feet against her back and fell into a peaceful sleep.

But the night was not over and I was not finished with my prize. I did not know how long I would have her…if she would fade away in the morning light like the dream I had counted her as being. Now that her pride had been stripped away, she could enjoy…or rather I could fully enjoy everything that she had to offer. And she gave it. In my mind, I fancied gladly, but the truth is probably far from it. Fighters were never glad to show their weaknesses…were never happy facing their needs. Their happiness came afterwards, lying there, helpless and lost and being taken care of…being treasured for those same weaknesses, those same needs that they despised in their own selves.

My little prize would feel the crop, the paddle, the flogger, my hand, clit and nipple clamps and every other item in my toy chest before I collapsed in sated exhaustion on my bed, ready and needing to finally give in to slumber. She experienced bondage above and beyond the call of duty, rope, chain, scarves…anything and everything that I could find to immobilize her. I even used a coat hanger at one point, but I hesitate to relay the particulars of that.

She bore it well, crying prettily, begging loudly…even when I refused to grant her release. It was my birthday…she could have release tomorrow, I reasoned. Though if I had been honest with myself, her expressive eyes…mmmmm….they showed everything and her frustration was a wonder to watch flit across them. Her eyes would change color from an excited blue shade, to a stormy gray hue. I had never seen eyes such as hers. Oh, I hoped that I could keep her. She really was such a dear.

***

The pounding of a door woke me with a start. I sat up in the bed and looked about groggily. And then my eyes alit on her…and I smiled, the loud rattling of the doorframe lost in my joy at seeing her. She had been no dream after all, at least not in the literal sense. I wiggled my toes on her legs and her clear blue eyes blinked steadily back up at me. My little fighter was back. Sleep had strengthened her and had brought her back to the land of the living. Oh, what fun! Another day of such wicked delights. The gift that keeps on giving…

“Audrey! Open the door this instant! Or I’m calling the cops!” A voice boomed from outside my cozy loft. Muted, grumbling voices of the neighbors called out for quiet and it snapped my world back into focus. Sam? What was he doing here? What time was it?

I rolled out of bed, slipping on a robe. “Just a damned second, Sam. Geesh!” I stopped at the foot of the bed, stroked my precious prize’s hair and leaned down to kiss her brow. She turned her head at the last second and my lips grazed her ear instead. I chuckled. I bent low and whispered. “I’ll take care of that in a minute, dear.”

I opened the door and Sam pushed me forcibly out of the way. “Where is she?” He barked and stood, arms on hips, scowling down at me. “Don’t you answer your phone? Don’t you even check your messages?”

The hazy, well pleased smile that had been plastered on my face since the night before faded as the awful realization dawned….Oh, no….I whipped my head around and stared at the lump huddled under the covers on my bed….Ye Gods….What had I done???

***

 

Part V

 

I heard Master’s voice from where I laid under the covers.  Only one thought went through my mind…”Busted, Bitch!”  Oh, she had broken me there for a bit, but a good night’s sleep did wonders for the constitution.  And she wouldn’t get the drop on me again.  I knew Master would be coming for me, and I knew that what she put me through went way above and beyond what he had in mind.

 

I schooled my face into a blank mask.  Think she had my number, did she?  Well, I’d show her.  Time for a little turnabout, I thought.  Every muscle in my body ached.  My backside was a mass of sore welts, and judging from the tenderness I was experiencing just laying there, a fair number of deep bruises as well.  Oh, I knew she was proud of herself and even I would admit that she wielded a mean crop.  And her paddle arm was nothing to sneeze at either.

 

I heard Master bellow and I smiled wickedly.  The fun was just about to start.  And boy, did I know how to play Master.  I might not know how to play her, but him…a year with him and I knew every trick, how to play ever nuance to my advantage.  I took a deep breath and waited.  I didn’t have long.  Before I knew it, Master’s face was hovering over mine, staring down at me with a mixture of concern and trepidation.  I played it to the hilt.  I stared blankly off into space, not even giving him any indication that I recognized him.  I blinked a few times, but other than that…nothing.

 

He turned accusing eyes at his dear friend, Audrey and internally I smiled.  “What the hell did you do to her?”  He stared her down hard but softened instantly when his gazed turned back upon me, his slave, his precious little one.  He clucked softly and stroked my face tenderly.  I whispered weakly, “Master?”

 

I winced at how small and pathetic I had managed to make my own voice.  I felt a moment’s of guilt seeing the pain lance his eyes, the crack in his voice as he told me that he loved me, hoped that I could forgive him and that he would never let me go again.  He gathered me up in his arms and rocked me gently, as only my Master could.  It felt so good.  But what felt even better…was when I caught her eyes over his shoulder.  Oh, I didn’t give myself away, as much as I wanted to.  I maintained my vacant gaze and stared off into the distance, but I noted the very real concern in hers.  She was truly worried.  And dammit, she should be.  What she had put me through…well, there were very few words that could encapsulate the whole sordid affair.

 

Master drew the covers back, and laid me back down.  He inspected his pet, turning me this way and that and I could feel his anger grow with every mark that he found, with every bruise, with every welt and stripe from her “tools”.  He was shaking with the force of controlling his fury.  I did not envy the meeting that would surely take place between them at some point when I was not around.  Oh, he wouldn’t make a fuss in front of me…he would deal with her later…much later.  Right now, all of his attention was focused on me.

 

He lifted me up in his strong arms, cradling me against his chest.  “Sam, let me explain…”

 

He cut her off quickly.  “Save it, Audrey.  I’m in no mood.  Would you be so kind as to get the door?”  The look he shot her…well, let’s just put it this way…she withered and that’s saying a lot.  She never backed down; she thrived on challenge, on confrontation.  She wasn’t so big and bad now, was she?

 

She hurried to the door and opened it up slowly, still trying to catch his gaze, but he only had eyes for me, for his abused pet, his treasure.  In the doorway, he shifted my weight and regarded her.

 

“Happy Birthday, Audrey.”  His tone indicated the truth to be far different.  “If I ever see you near my pet again, I’ll kill you.”  Oh, and I didn’t doubt it, not for a second.  As we stepped out of the cozy loft, he paused once more in the corridor of the apartment building.  He shot her one more look that would have melted steel.  “I’ll kill you.”

 

My Master then pivoted and began walking away, heading towards the main door to bring his baby home.  Over his shoulder I saw Audrey standing in the hallway, wringing her hands, and I could no longer resist the impulse.  It wasn’t what you knew…it was what you could prove…and she had no witnesses.  I had all the cards stacked in my favor.  I glared at her and stuck out my tongue.  She gasped and stared in open mouth shock.  I smiled, dimpling cutely, half tempted to wave…but I didn’t.

 

Just before we rounded the bend and disappeared from view, I mouthed “Happy Birthday” and winked.  Let her stew on that!  I chuckled heartily to myself and snuggled in my Master’s arms.  We were going home and I knew that for at least this weekend, I could get away with murder.  Life was sweet indeed!

 

The End.