The President's Club
Copyright© 2007 by NightShade
Chapter 8
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Did you hear the one about the masochist and the sadist that met and fell in love? This is a not-quite-classic boy-meets-girl love story, but with a very strong BDSM theme. Caution - this is one of my first BDSM-themed stories and I was apparently very angry when I wrote it. It is very strong and very hot. Some parts of the story may not be all that realistic - so please do not try this at home.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Teenagers Consensual Romantic NonConsensual Rape Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Spanking Rough Light Bond Sadistic Torture First Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Sex Toys Exhibitionism Needles Violence
The first rays of the sun peeked over the cabin, dulling the darkness with a muddy light. The stars winked out of sight behind the bluing sky.
Karin lurched awake with a small cry. Her chin had settled on her sternum as she slept and the spittle from her mouth had run down between her breasts. The rivulet of moisture chilled her as it dried in the early morning mountain air. She went to wipe up the dribble off her chin, but her arms wouldn't move. The memory of the night before came rushing back to her. She opened her eyes and looked at her hands. She was still suspended from the rafter on the porch.
As she slowly came awake, she took stock of the changes in her condition from last night. The gag was gone. She was not hanging freely as her feet were resting on one of the benches from the porch. What surprised her most was that there was no pain in her back, her legs or her ass. If she were not still hanging from the same hooks where he had fastened her the evening before, she might have thought it was a dream. But it had been real. Her vaginal muscles still twitched, as they had all night long, the nerves firing randomly as they tried to catch up to the intensity of what she had been feeling. There was only so much adrenaline to go around, though, so they had stored up their impulses and then fired later as her body labored to fill in the backlog of adrenaline.
John had heard her cry out as she came awake. He had debated long and hard about leaving her strung up, but in the end, her peaceful slumber was the deciding factor. She needed to rest to allow her body to recover from what she had gone through.
He had removed the ballgag and placed the bench under her feet. Then he had taken a moist towel and cleaned her up, drying her with a big fluffy towel so she wouldn't chill in the night air. After she was clean, he took some salves he had had specially made up. One of the other men in the 'Presidents Club' was a major pharmaceutical manufacturer. His research facilities were able to combine the right ingredients to get the effect John wanted. He didn't know what was in the stuff, but it did what he wanted.
The salve he had put on Karin's back reduced the pain, primarily. It had antibiotic properties, in case one of the wounds broke open. It also reduced any swelling.
Consequently, Karin looked like shit from the back, but she felt a lot better than she looked. He knew she still needed the time to heal, but wanted to wait and see how she reacted before coddling her, as he knew she would claim he had done if he showed her any tenderness at all.
Karin felt his touch as he came up and stood behind her. She automatically spread her feet on the bench, widening her ass cheeks to give him access.
"Good morning, Karin. How are you feeling?"
"This slave feels glorious, Sir. Thank you for asking. And..."
"Yes?"
"Thank you for last night, Sir. I hope I did not disappoint you. I should not have fallen asleep. I promise to do better next time."
Her words shook him. It had not been a game to her as it had to so many others. She was still his slave, still acting or pretending to be. Or she thought he had really meant that that was what he wanted of her. He was silent as he rested his head on her shoulder. She turned her face to his but couldn't focus her eyes because of his nearness to her.
"Karin. You were wonderful. Beyond my wildest hopes and dreams. I have never had a night like last night."
"I am happy for you, Sir. I, uh, I enjoyed it, too." Her head tipped over to the side and rested up against his. "Sir? I, uh, ummm."
"What is it, Karin?"
"Well, I, uh, well, are we, umm, are you going to do me, Sir? I mean, well, it's OK and all, but, uh, if you aren't, you may want to move your feet before I, ummmm, well, Sir, I have to go real bad."
With two 'clicks' her wrists were freed from the rafter. He caught her in his strong arms as she collapsed, her ankles and knees refusing to hold her weight. He managed to grab the roll of toilet paper that hung on its customary nail on the porch rail and headed with her into the brush. He found a clearing and gently settled her into a crouch.
She rested on her haunches, her feet and knees spread wide. He crouched in front of her, holding both her hands in his to give her support so she wouldn't keel over backwards. She was embarrassed by his scrutiny at first and couldn't release the fluid in her bladder. As he continued to hold her and look into her eyes, a tiny hissing indicated the release of the pent up urine in her bladder.
His eyes turned downward, his curiosity overcoming even his strong control. She urinated for several moments during which time he watched her genitals intently. When she was done, he gathered both her hands in one of his. He took several sheets of tissue and blotted her dry. He looked back up at her to see she had blushed a deep crimson at the intimacy he had taken with her.
He helped her stand up. Her legs seemed able to hold her now. He took the shovel he kept in the clearing and turned the soil so the wet tissue and the dampened ground were buried. The bacteria in the soil could break down the paper and other toxins faster when it was covered. And the smell didn't blow all over, either.
"Are you finished?" he asked her.
She looked at him quizzically.
"Number two? Do you have to poop, crap, shit, build a dung heap, dump a load, float a log... ?"
She was laughing as he tapered off. Her musical laughter was infectious and soon he was grinning, too. He had been trying to be so serious. Well, kind of.
"No, I don't. Not yet, anyway. But if you really want to wipe that, too, I can try..." she said coyly.
He growled at her in mock anger and swept her back up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled into his broad chest. As he started back to the cabin, his foot caught an errant root and he stumbled slightly. She tightened her grip around his neck. He caught his balance and stopped, swearing quietly under his breath.
"Sir?"
"Huh, what?"
"I think I can walk, Sir. You do not need to carry me."
He looked at her serious face. His mood softened. "I know, Honey. But I want to."
He stood there quietly for a moment staring at her face, memorizing its shape, the color of her eyes, and the innocence he saw there. She watched him looking at her, nervous at first. A lingering kiss to her nose, then one to each of her eyes, then one in the center of her forehead brought a contented sigh from her and she relaxed under his inspection.
She peeked out of one eye, squinting up at his face to see if he was still looking at her. He was. With an impish wiggle, she cleared her throat.
"Uh, Sir?"
"Yes, Honey?"
"Ummm, I think I could manage to go pee again. If you wanted to play with me down there again, that is..." She squeezed both her eyes shut tight, not wanting to see his reaction. She missed a very adolescent blush, having caught him out on an irresistible impulse. It had been a spur of the moment thing that, in retrospect, was probably not the thing to do. He decided to play along.
"Uh, yeah, I'd like that." He set her down and positioned them as they had been before. This time he did not look at her face, just down at her cunt. Karin worked for about three minutes before a tiny dribble emerged.
"That's it?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Sir. I'll do better later. After breakfast... ?"
He blotted her dry again, this time spending more time than necessary fondling her. Her breathing was ragged when he finished.
"Hmmm. I can't seem to keep it dry. There seems to be something leaking down here." He emphasized his point by inserting his finger into her damp pussy. She gasped at his invasion of her but stayed as she was, with her knees spread wide to give him access. He fingerfucked her until her eyes rolled up into her head. She shuddered satisfactorily.
John helped her up, and she stood, weaving from side to side. He turned and started up the path.
"Sir!" came her panicked voice from behind him.
He turned and saw her leaning heavily against a convenient tree. He cocked his head, silently asking her what was wrong.
"I-I-I-I'll take that offer of a ride, if it's still open. My legs don't seem to want to work..." Her voice tapered off as she started to slump to the ground.
He reached out and caught her before she hit the ground. He lifted her again and carried her limp form to the cabin. There he gently laid her on the cot. She felt his tears as they ran down his face and dripped on her naked body. She felt a certain sadness he was crying for her, but her lassitude wouldn't let her generate the effort to show she cared.
Over the next 24 hours, she allowed him to care for her completely, even letting him clean her ass without comment when she had to shit. He did not make love to her that night. He wrapped her in his arms and rocked her back and forth in his big chair all night long. She was feeling much better by then, but he didn't trust that either of them would be able refrain from sex if they were both in the cot. As it was, her soft hand worked down into his shorts and claimed his cock as her own. She would not give it up after numerous attempts by him to dislodge her, but she did tacitly agree not to stroke him or make him cum. She slept with his hardened cock firmly in her grasp. He was amused to see that even in her REM state she kept her grip on him. He wondered what she was dreaming of.
John only caught a couple of hour rest that night. He woke with a guilty flinch. He looked down to see her looking up at him.
"Good morning, Karin. How are you feeling this morning?"
"Good morning, Sir. I, uh, I'm fine. Really. This time I am." She was gnawing on her lower lip, a sign he was beginning to recognize. She wanted to ask him something that meant a lot to her.
"What is it, Honey?"
"Huh? Nothin... Oh!" She jumped as he slapped her lightly on the rump.
"Tell me the truth. No lies, OK?"
She buried her face in his chest as she nodded. It took her some time for her to continue. "Sir. You said you would, uhm, you know, that we would, uh,... shit!" She glared up at him. "You said you were going to fuck me. Are you ever going to? Uh, sorry... Sir?" She tacked on his title a bit late. He let it go, given the question.
"You have been through a lot. I didn't want to push you too much."
"I was ready last night, Sir. I tried to let you know by, you know, this." She rubbed her hand up and down his shaft.
"I wondered about that. But I must admit I liked the feeling of sleeping in your grasp all night long. It could be habit forming." He grinned.
"I liked holding you, too, Sir," she said shyly. "I could feel your heart beating. It felt warm and nice." She looked up at him. "But back to my question. Well... ?"
He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, hell. If I <have> to, I guess we'll just get it over with." She fell to the floor with a squeal as he stood abruptly. She was still squealing as he carried her over to the soft double bed and laid her down. Stripping quickly, he got into next to her. She squealed for a long time that morning and on into the afternoon.
Karin lay on her side, her head resting on her lover's chest. The minor twinges of pain from her bruises forgotten. She had finally been fucked. Sure they had done it before, that first night, but he had held back. This time she knew she had taken all he had to give. He was so big and strong he had to hold back with other women. With Karin, he could let go, fuck her long and hard, without the fear of injuring her. Not that she was built like a tank, far from it. But she had substance and endurance in her trim frame.
She twirled the tiny strands of hair on his chest around her finger. As she passed his nipple, she flicked it with her fingernail. He groaned in his sleep. The little nub of flesh stood up and begged for more. She leaned over and kissed it, sucking it into mouth. She chewed on it lightly. That brought more groans from him. Blowing on the moistened nipple resulted in his hand slapping sleepily at the pesky irritant. She captured his hand in hers and laced their fingers together. It fit nicely.
"I don't think I've ever been woken up as nice as that." His voice came quietly from above her head.
They lay in silence, contented, sated. They were both aware that time was flying by and that this idyllic trip would soon be over. Neither one of them wanted to talk about that.
"Have you ever been tied up before, done this kind of thing before?"
"No." She decided to skip the brutal rape by Bill and Bruce. She could tell him later, and she knew that wasn't what he meant. "I've only tied myself up with some ropes and stuff. But it never feels right, because I always have to leave a way out. That kind of ruins it."
"Oh." He thought a moment. "What about the painful stuff?"
"That just seems to be a part of it, I guess. I like not being able to do anything to stop you. Which means you can do anything, everything you want to me and I just have to take it. When you do it, the pain isn't that bad. It makes the feeling of being helpless so much more intense." She thought a minute. "You know, you could have tied my feet last night. I wouldn't have minded."
"I know. But you didn't kick your feet very much, even when I was hitting them. I was ready to tie them down if I had to."
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