Chapter 34

“Wait. Stop for a minute.”

There was no response from the oscillating mass of brilliant red hair obscuring his midsection.

“I mean it. Stop.” He shifted and squirmed just enough to reinforce the seriousness of his intent. A hand appeared, flipping just enough hair out of the way for a face to partially emerge from its sensuous jungle.

“If you have to pee, I guarantee I can finish you off before you do.”

“No, that’s not ... well, I mean, yes I do, but that’s not why I’m stopping you.” Her hand was still stroking his slippery and incredibly sensitive organ. If I don’t win this argument soon, it’ll be moot. “I’m actually asking you to let go of me.”

“You’re kidding,” she mock-complained, still not quite taking him seriously, but nevertheless letting go of his twitching organ and sitting up with a bewildered expression.

“I just ... look, I’ll explain in a little while,” he improvised, wiggling out from underneath her and taking a few unsteady steps towards the bathroom. She watched his retreat in disbelief. “Grab some breakfast while I shower.”

“Luke, what the hell are you... ?” was all she managed before he turned on the water, drowning out the rest.

Kathryn’s head appeared through the mist. “I’ve concluded that you’ve been replaced by some sort of shapeshifting alien replica, so before you probe me with tentacles or whatever your species uses for sex, I have a simpler question: do they drink coffee on your planet?”

“Yes, but not this morning. You shouldn’t either.”

After a long silence, she demanded, “Okay, seriously: what’s going on?”

“Later. Let me finish my shower. Don’t forget to eat, but I still advise against coffee.”

When he emerged, she was sitting at the table, gloriously naked and following his every move, impatient and intrigued. He joined her, peeling an orange while she stared daggers of curiosity at him.

“No hints?”

He shook his head, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “Whenever you’re ready, the shower’s yours.”

They sat in silence for a while. He fed wedges of citrus into his mouth while her eyes bored into him, trying but failing to capture his attention. Two oranges later, Luke murmured, “Seriously, you should shower.”

“But...”

“The longer you wait, the longer it’ll be until your questions are answered.”

Rising from the table, she quietly padded to the bathroom and closed the door. He finished his final orange, washed his hands, and crossed to the bed, sitting so he was facing that very same door.

About fifteen minutes after she’d finished her shower, she emerged looking refreshed and ravishing. At first she stared down at him, her eyes speaking words he couldn’t quite grasp. And then she drew even closer, crouching until her face was nearly touching his, lovingly caressing his cheeks.

“Luke, before we begin, I just want to assure you that I love you without reservation, and that I trust you with my body, my heart, and my life.” Mere seconds after she finished her declaration, her eyes seemed to go out of focus and she completed her descent ... kneeling before him, folding her hands behind her back, and bowing her head until she was looking at the floor, breathing meditatively but otherwise remaining absolutely silent and still.

He had to exert a mighty effort to avoid laughing out loud, for such an outburst would utterly ruin the mood he was attempting to initiate. I was a complete idiot to believe that I could surprise her. Frankly, I’m lucky I was able to string her along until now. Reaching for her chin, he lifted it until she was looking at him again. The placid, trusting expression on her face almost caused him to repent. Today is an enormous risk. The last time we did this, it led to disaster. But there’s no way to give her what she wants and avoid that possibility. I have to press on with a confidence I don’t truly feel. Not yet, at least. The way I’ve planned the day — all these steps — will, I hope, help me build that confidence. But until then...

“Have you done everything you need to do this morning?”

“Yes, Master.” She’s not quite there, but she’s close. I’m so grateful to Faith — and to Michelle — for being my guides.

“Call me Sir.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ve fully prepared myself for all the ways you might wish to make use of me.”

“Thank you. Your safe words are yellow and red. Three taps or five if you can’t speak. Do I need to explain what they mean?”

“Only if you wish it, Sir.”

“I may change how I address you depending on what we’re doing at the time. Do you understand?”

“It doesn’t matter, Sir. I’m yours to name as you wish.”

“Today, there’s only one overriding rule: there are no restrictions on your orgasms, and that won’t change no matter what else happens. You will come whenever the urge arises. Do you understand?”

“If my orgasms will please you, Sir, then I’ll endeavor to give you as many as I can.” She paused. “Sir, may I ask a question?”

“You may. In fact, today you may ask me any question at all, unless circumstances prevent it.”

“Thank you, Sir. Are my orgasms a reward or a punishment?”

“For me, they’re a reward. For you, they’re both. Do you understand?”

“Not really, Sir, but my understanding isn’t important.”

“Isn’t my satisfaction important to you?”

“Yes it is, Sir. It’s the only thing that’s important to me. What can I do to apologize for my misunderstanding, Sir?”

“How have you behaved this morning?”

Her entire body flushed. “I’ve been argumentative and defiant. I questioned you and prioritized my own desires over yours.”

“That’s right, you did. And what do you deserve for such behavior?”

“Whatever punishment you think will prevent me from repeating my error, Sir.” She was having trouble holding his gaze, and he could feel her trembling.

“I think a punishment is indeed in order. Bend over my lap, face down. Lock your hands behind your neck.” She scrambled to position herself exactly as he’d demanded. “Remember that you’re to come whenever the desire arrives. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” There was a tremulous quality to her voice that he found incredibly arousing.

“I’m about to give you something you’ve always wanted from me. Remember that while I want you to enjoy it, it’s also a punishment. Do you understand that I want you to feel both?”

“Yes Sir, I finally understand. Please punish me.”

My god, she’s begging for it. I suspect she’d do the same even if she wasn’t in a submissive state; it’s just that the language she’d use would be different. Well, here goes...

Raising his hand, he delivered a stinging slap to her buttocks. Then another. And another. His tentative initial strikes quickly morphed into a confident, forceful spanking, and as she cried out and squirmed under his corrective hand, his erection swelled to painful proportions; a state made even more perilous when, immediately after his ninth blow, she shrieked and came. Her juices watered his thigh.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she gasped through her convulsions, “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s okay, slut.” The word made her shudder a second time, and another mist coated his leg. “I know you can’t help yourself. Anyway, I’m not done.” A rain of slaps followed until he’d tallied thirty, roughly split between each cheek. Her climaxes in response numbered at least five, and it was difficult to say whether or not she was still in the throes of her last. The reddening of her formerly flawless skin was already plain to see.

Yanking her legs apart, he drove three tightly knotted fingers into her cunt, pounding them into her for the few seconds it took to drive her to a body-wracking release. Roughly shoving her off his lap, he ordered her to kneel and open her mouth. Obediently, she did so, rewarded by his fingers as they forced her ejaculate into her throat.

“Close your eyes, but keep your mouth open.” He furiously stroked his rampant cock, pointing it at her face and unleashing a wild flurry of cream that streaked and spattered her face. He could tell she was on the precipice of another orgasm as he finished, but she resolutely avoided touching herself without permission.

“Good job, slut. You will wear that with pride for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Sir. Your slut is honored by your gift.”

“You may feel differently by the time we’re done. Can you stand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you need food? Water? The bathroom? Anything else?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then come with me.” Grabbing her hair — neither forcefully nor painfully, simply using it as a convenient leash — he led her down the stairs and out of the apartment.

He looked around the boathouse, mentally ticking off the major beats of his plan. His preparations had been extensive, and he hoped they were complete. Kathryn was standing next to him, breathing heavily as she nervously eyed those very same preparations. Strings and gobs of Luke’s semen still clung to her face.

“Give me your hands.”

With one simple order, the theater began. Wrapping leather restraints around her wrists, he attached a chain to one and then raised her arms above her head, feeding the chain through a ring that was normally devoted to securing fishing equipment, and then attaching it to the other restraint. The ring wasn’t high enough to stretch her or make her stand on her toes, and she could turn or move at will, but it would keep her more or less in place. Next, he produced a pair of clover clamps joined by another small chain and attached them to her nipples. She whimpered as they bit into her sensitive flesh, though he refrained from adding weights.

“What are you standing on?”

“A metal grate that opens onto the beach, Sir.”

“Do you know why I chose this particular spot?”

“Perhaps you believe I will lose control of myself during what’s to follow, Sir.”

“That’s correct.”

“Do you... want me to lose control, Sir?” she asked with a hint of distress.

“Only if you can’t help it. There won’t be a punishment if you do. Otherwise, no.”

“Then I’ll try not to, Sir.”

“I’m about to make it difficult for you to speak. Before I do, do you have any questions or concerns?”

“No, Sir.”

“Very well. Stick out your tongue.” Extracting another pair of clover clamps, he attached both to her tongue, wrapping their connecting chain around the one that crossed her chest, and then shortening both until there was a minor tension between her tongue and her nipples. He knew that the clamps on her tongue wouldn’t stay there very long, but he wanted to begin with her under additional stress.

“Just to make sure you can still use your safe words and I know what they’ll sound like, say yellow.”

“El-o.”

“Say red.”

“Ehd.”

The centerpiece of his plans came next. It was a leather harness that, in an unadorned state, might be taken for some sort of fetish wear in an environment unconcerned with public nudity. But it was far from unadorned. Attached to the interior of its straps were two vibrators; one butterfly-style with an appendage meant to directly stimulate her clit, the other a long trapezoidal anal plug. Neither was particularly large, but each held a secret. Kathryn began squirming as he produced the contraption.

“What is it?”

“Uhing, Rr.” She was staring at the vibrator meant for her vagina with wide, almost terrified eyes.

“You’re familiar with this?”

“Ehh, Rr.”

“Does it bring you to orgasm quickly?”

“Ehh, Rr.”

“Does it eventually become more than you can handle?”

“Ehh, Rr.”

“Good.” Lubing the anal vibrator — there was no need to add anything to the other, for she was dripping with anticipation — he inserted each of the probes in their respective holes and tightened the entire harness until they were locked in place.

“Is everything okay?”

“Ehh, Rr.”

“Good. I have one more task for you. I want you to silently tally your orgasms. Can you do that for me?”

“Ll thy, Rr.”

“Very well. Now, I’m going to separate you from the world for a while.” A thick silk blindfold covered her eyes, soon followed by noise-dampening earmuffs; the heavy, canister-sized kind favored by hunters and marksmen. He’d found them on a shelf during his initial reconnaissance, and inspiration struck.

“Can you hear me?” he asked in a normal tone of voice. There was no response. “Can you hear me?“ he yelled, a few inches from her face.

“Ehh, Rr,” she answered, a little too loudly.

Stroking his hands down her sides, he brought them up to caress the underside of her breasts, placed one hand directly over her heart and held it there for a few moments, then broke contact and pulled out his phone. He’d set up and tested the remote control application for the vibrators during his preparations, and the software quickly paired with the devices. Watching her carefully, he turned both to their lowest manual setting. Kathryn moaned as the probes began vibrating inside her, and a little drool escaped her mouth and flowed down her chin, but that was the majority of her reaction.

Well, why should there be more? She was undoubtedly expecting this, after all. It’s the part she doesn’t know about that’s going to rattle her.

Both vibrators was fully programmable, but the reason he’d selected these two particular models was that the vibrations could be made to run unidirectionally or bidirectionally along the length of the shafts. Kathryn would feel like she was being repeatedly impaled in both holes. He knew exactly what that sensation, especially from the anal vibrator, would do to her — one initial thrust after another — and that the overall feeling of being repeatedly double-penetrated while restrained would assuredly send her into sexual overdrive.

Feeling just a little bit evil, he initiated the program. Her moans immediately tripled in volume and she started writhing around, spinning and twisting as if trying to escape the dramatic uptick of pleasure in her orifices. But it was no use, and only seconds later she started pumping her hips. She was coming, and not gently. A short while later she came again. And again. They were low-level climaxes at the moment, but they were rhythmic and unmistakable.

It’s working. Time to dial it up. He adjusted a slider, increasing the power of the vibrations to just below their median setting, watching with delight and an aching erection. She shrieked as each new peak washed over her. He looked on for a while longer, but when it became too much for him to watch without having to relieve his own arousal, he grabbed a handful of items and departed the boathouse, leaving the door open so he could still hear her.

At first he tried to count her orgasms himself, but it quickly became impossible as there was scarcely any break in her constant wailing and crying. Her uncontrollable tears started about twenty minutes after he first left her, and though he’d been regularly checking on her anyway, the sounds of distress caused him to rush to her side, listening closely for any sign she was trying to utter either of her safe words. Not until he was satisfied she was unharmed did he depart.

At the end of a no-doubt arduous hour, he shut down the vibrators. She was still shuddering through aftershocks, but her climactic screams subsided, leaving only sobbing in their wake. As predicted, the tongue clamps had long since detached; they bounced uselessly against her stomach. Her chin, neck, and chest were a sodden mess of saliva (and, he supposed, tears). She cried out in pain as he removed the nipple clamps and blood rushed back into the abused buds, and again when he loosened the harness and eased the vibrators out of her holes. Her anal entrance looked much as it always did, but her pussy was an angry red, her labia as swollen as he’d ever seen.

Before ending her partial sensory deprivation or untying her completely, he had one more need to sate. Lifting her leg, he slid his cock into the messy swamp of her cunt, pounding her with all of his desperate and long-delayed desire. Every five or six thrusts she came again, whimpering “Please, Sir ... please, Sir,” over and over. On the very precipice of his own release, he stopped, removing her earmuffs and blindfold and releasing the chain that bound her wrists. She collapsed forward into his arms, eyes still closed, and he gently lowered her to the floor. Kneeling over her head, he stroked his shaft until his ejaculate spewed all over her beautiful, pleasure-tortured face. Reflexively, her mouth opened and her tongue extended to capture a few streams, but most of his seed replaced that which had either dried, soaked into the blindfold, or been washed away by tears.

Picking her up like a boneless doll, he laid her head on his lap and stroked her arms, chest, and stomach. He was aware that a few tardy drops of semen were oozing into her hair, but by the time they were done he expected that to be the least of her problems. After letting her rest for a while, he asked if she needed anything.

“May I please have some water, Sir?”

“Of course.” He grabbed an already prepared bottle, feeding it to her in small doses until she closed her mouth and thanked him.

“Did you lose control?”

“No, Sir.”

“Do you need to relieve yourself now?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir. Controlling myself because you ordered me to brings me pleasure.”

“Very good. Still, when we take our next break, I want you to be honest about whether or not you need to relieve yourself.”

“Whatever you wish, Sir, but it will not be necessary. Then we’re not done, Sir?”

“We’re very, very far from done.”

“Will it be the same as before, Sir?” There was clear tension in her voice, and Luke realized that this was a crucial test for him to pass. She needs my confidence. I can’t doubt or second-guess myself. If she hears uncertainty in my voice it will elevate her anxiety.

“Some things will be the same, some things will be different. But the answer to the question I believe you’re asking is: yes, you will wear the harness again.” She took this silently, shifting around until more of her was curled against him. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“The sensations are difficult to endure, Sir.”

“Too much for you, or just difficult?”

She nervously licked her semen-coated lips. “Both, Sir.”

“Have you experienced forced orgasms before?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Another pause. “Yes, Sir. But it was very difficult then, too.”

“For how long?”

“You’ve greatly surpassed my previous experiences, Sir.”

“Then I’m proud of you.”

With a weak smile, she lifted her head and kissed him on the stomach, then lapped up the cream that she’d left there. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I’m going to continue to test your limits, but I’m also going test mine. I’m not prepared to do to you what was done to Faith, for example, so I have to use other methods. You’ll make me even prouder if you continue to wear the harness.”

She shivered once, then steadied herself. “I’ll do anything for you, Sir.”

“Good. Then there’s just one more thing”

“What’s that, Sir?” She wore a slight frown, as if she knew what was coming.

“I asked you to do something for me. Did you do as I asked?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I tried, but the sensations were so strong I wasn’t able to concentrate. I lost count.”

“I see. Just when did you lose count?”

“Thirty-three, Sir. But I’m not even sure about that.”

Jesus. She really came that often? And that wasn’t even the end of it? “Thirty-three is a very impressive number. Do you know what else it’s about to be?”

“I have an idea, Sir.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re able to concentrate again. Have you recovered enough for us to continue?”

“Yes, Sir.” Obediently, she rose to the same kneeling position in which she’d presented herself after her shower. He instead asked her to stand and led her back to the pole. This time, he pulled her arms behind her and secured her wrist restraints around it, tightening the chain until her back was flush against the pole and her potential range of movement was limited. From his collection of accessories he lifted a flogger, its leather tassels dangling about a foot and half below the thick handle. Michelle had assured him that it was the softest and least painful version available — the specific use to which she usually put it had caused his testicles to shrivel and retreat into his body — and in fact he’d tried it out on his own arms, chest, and back, just to make sure. At anything other than full strength it did little more than sting for a moment, though there was a lingering heat that accumulated with repeated use.

He’d decided not to blindfold Kathryn for this, and so she was staring at the device with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. Her nipples were rock-hard, as if they knew what was coming as well as she did.

“I want you to count again, but not out loud until I reach thirty.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Open your mouth.” He wedged the handle of the flogger between her teeth. Her verbal response was incomprehensible. With an elastic ring, he gathered her hair behind her back so that none of it was in the way of her breasts, then retrieved the flogger. She watched as he swirled and swung it around, re-familiarizing himself with its balance. For a few minutes he traced it over her chest, tickling her breasts and stomach with its tendrils, and then, on a whim, experimentally nudged the fat base into her drenched cunt. That particular part of the handle was significantly wider than Luke, though not quite matching Alejandro’s girth, and she gasped and quivered as it stretched her entrance; a reaction he filed away for possible later use.

He stepped back, letting the flogger hang motionless from his hand, staring at Kathryn but doing or saying nothing else. Her tension visibly rose as he remained silent and still. In his reading, he’d learned about the power of uncertainty; of how a regular, predictable session of impact play versus an irregular, unpredictable session could satisfy different categories of need in both the giver and receiver. After a few minutes of this, she seemed to be having trouble breathing, and to his surprise he discovered that he was experiencing his own thrill from exerting such control over her body without doing anything more than making her wait. Is this what dominance feels like? This is close to the same emotion I felt with Alejandro and Faith. Both times it snuck up on me. Could I eventually learn to summon it at will, just as I’ve learned to compel Kathryn’s submission? Is this the hidden quality that she, Faith, and even Irina claimed to see?

She was now covered head to toe in goosebumps, and visibly shivering. It’s time. Raising the flogger, he swung it in a wide arc and listened as the tassels slapped against the soft flesh of her right breast. Her entire body jerked, and her breath was a sharp exhalation through gritted teeth, but it had been a relatively gentle blow; a tease and a promise with no real force behind it. The second swing treated her left breast to the same restrained treatment, and while she flinched again, she showed no sign of actual discomfort.

The next strike was at least twice as hard, and the sharp snap of the leather against her skin forced a gasp from her throat. Four strokes later, fresh beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, though their companions on her sternum were repeatedly swiped away by the leather. He was randomly changing his target from one swing to the next, laying into each orb individually or stretching the impact across both.

One he hit ten, he started seriously ramping up the force. Soft cries issued from her throat with each strike, but at the fourteenth she suddenly yelped, writhing and struggling against her restraints.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, worried that he’d inadvertently reached her pain threshold. If I’ve already done that with such a relatively soft flogger, I’m going to have to rethink a lot of today’s plans.

“I came, Sir.” Indeed, fresh trails of female ejaculate were seeping down the inside of her thighs. “I’m sorry, Sir. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“Don’t be sorry, slut.” She shivered and blinked rapidly as the word sent another tremor of pleasure through her body. “You’re right; it is what I want. I did tell you to come as often as you could.”

“But it’s a punishment, Sir. I shouldn’t enjoy it.”

“If it’s a form of punishment you enjoy, then ... like the spanking ... it’s meant to be both punishment and reward.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She pushed her breasts out, inviting resumption. It was an invitation he accepted, lashing her at close to full strength, holding almost nothing back. Her cries and moans in response to each strike built in volume, and tears began mingling with her sweat. She continued to come, as well, and by the time she finally screamed “Thirty, Sir!” though a pinched throat, she’d drenched the inside of her legs and the grate beneath her. Her breasts were reddened and inflamed, her nipples swollen to twice their usual size, and for a moment his heart sank. I did that to her. Me! I went out of my way to deliberately hurt someone I love. Reason reasserted itself. This is what she wants, though, and I’m the person she wants it from. She’s going to be wearing bruises for a while, but there’s nothing on the surface that she can’t handle. Still...

“Spread your legs, slut.” Her eyes snapped open, but she did as he asked. “Wider.” Again, she complied. Twirling the flogger in a vertical circle, he drew closer and sent the tassels snapping into her sex. It was a relatively gentle blow, meant to test her sensitivity, and while she jumped a little, there was no verbal reaction save for “Thirty-one, Sir.” She was breathing rapidly, her tortured breasts heaving, but even he could see the yearning in her wide-eyed stare.

“Thirty-two, Sir!” she shrieked as he delivered the next stroke at about seventy-five percent strength. Fluids spattered everywhere, and he realized that once he was done, he’d have to hang the flogger somewhere so it could dry out; soft though it might be at the moment, wet leather would be a very different and much harsher experience.

Gritting his teeth, he put every last ounce of power into his final strike. Kathryn screamed, her legs snapping shut and trapping the leather between her thighs as she convulsed and cried out, seized by a body-wrenching orgasm. “Thir ... thir ... god, oh god, oh GOD... THIRTY-THREE!“ she howled as she kept on coming. It was a long time before she was able to release her hold on the tassels enough for him to retrieve the flogger.

“Sir...” she moaned, but despite several attempts she was unable to finish her thought, and eventually she gave up.

Impulsively, he rubbed the handle of the flogger against her pussy, coating its surface in her free-flowing juices while she wriggled and groaned at the blunt stimulation of her hypersensitive clitoris. “Hold this,” he ordered, and after a moment’s confusion she obediently opened her mouth and took the handle between her teeth, tasting her climax while he searched through his supplies and returned with a bottle of medicated lotion. With gentle, cautious caresses he soothed it into the flesh of her darkening breasts, hesitating when contact with her nipples caused her to whimper in pain. “Please keep going, Sir,” she begged, her words muffled by the flogger’s thick handle, and so he did, applying a little more lotion around — but not inside — her sex, then stowing both the instrument of her punishment and its relief.

“Are you ready to move on, or you do need more time?”

“Thank you for my punishment, Sir. What happens next isn’t up to me.”

Even in a submissive state, she’s a saucy, teasing minx, he laughed to himself as he prepared the harness and its devices. Another coating of lube was applied, the vibrators inserted, and the fasteners tightened in place.

“Sir?” She sounded more frightened now than she had at any time during her flogging.

“Yes?”

“May I ask how long this will last, Sir?”

His first impulse was to answer that he wasn’t sure, but he knew that lying to a submissive could irreparably break their trust. “You may, but I don’t wish to answer.”

“I...” She straightened her shoulders, steeling herself for the rigors to come. “I understand, Sir.”

“Thank you for trusting me. Don’t forget to count your climaxes.” The satisfaction that passed across her face was fleeting, for she immediately grasped the import of his demand. This time he introduced a ball gag, once again testing her ability to speak her safe words before proceeding, then slipped the blindfold over her eyes and replaced the earmuffs. Feeling that her breasts had endured enough, at least for the moment, he didn’t affix any clamps. A few minutes later he was back outside, listening to an already constant stream of orgasmic howls punctuated by explosions of misery.