Chapter 3: Touch, Smell, Hear, Sight, Taste, Imagination

"Perhaps you're wondering what I'm going to do to you next?" Klaus said in a voice so husky I almost came as I lay on the bed with only a thong between me and total nudity.

"You ... you want me to guess, Master?" I said and knew my nostrils had flared as they drank in his scented cologne.

"Yes, take a guess."

"You're going to make me scream with pain, Master, aren't you?"

"Perhaps I am, but you already expect that. Come on, think about it. What else?"

I formed an image of what he was capable of then spat it out. "You're going to force me into the street, naked and have me suck the cock of the first black man to come along."

Klaus laughed heartedly at that, and then said, "Your imagination is improving, Emily. But no, for now I'm just going to blindfold you and secure you to the bed."

Which is exactly what he did; securing each knot expertly so as not to allow me more than a foot of movement with either arm. My feet he ignored; I hoped because he was going to spread my legs apart and savage me.

I lay there blinded, hoping he would be quick in pulling my suddenly damp thong to the side and sucking on my recently shaved cunt lips. When he didn't, I allowed myself to think he was just admiring the way I trembled in expectation, and then that he planning something new ... something he hadn't tried on me as yet. Yes, that had to be it.

Time passed and nothing happened. Was he still in the room? I hadn't heard him leave -- was the floor carpeted? I couldn't remember. If it were he might have walked out without my hearing. Would I have heard the door open or close?

If he'd left, was the door still open? Wasn't one's hearing more acute when deprived of sight? I thought I recalled reading that someplace.

I sniffed to see if his cologne was still in the air. I smelled myself. I was sweating profusely. Unable to remain silent, I called out: "Master? Master, are you there?"

There was no answer.

I was unsuccessful in holding back a sob. I lost all track of time. I dozed off, woke up and fell asleep again. I woke up with a sob. A single tear trickled down my cheek.

Suddenly, and without any warning, a fingertip pressed into my inner thigh. I tried to prevent myself from jerking away from the intrusive finger, but couldn't. Seeking reassurance that it was Klaus and not a stranger touching me, I called out, "Master? Is that you?"

"I have a question to put to you, Emily," he said, breaking the silence. I could smell him again and I permitted myself to smile. In my mind's eye I saw myself breathing so deeply that the shelf of my ribs disappeared then reappeared while I looked at myself in the mirror beside the bed.

"Yes, Master," I said so eagerly into the darkness that I accidently bit my lower lip.

"Are you truly mine? Mine to do with as I want?"

"Yes, Master. Of course, I trust you Master."

I came back to life. I could now taste the blood from my lip; felt my nipples harden in anticipation of his taking me hard, anally and vaginally; in that order.

He pulled the thong to one side and my leg muscles tightened as his hot breath caressed my shaven cunt.

I involuntarily yanked on the rope holding my hands up.

"You're so very beautiful, Emily," His voice was soft and seductive as his fingers trailed over the planes of my upper thighs. "I'm going to suck your pussy till you come in my mouth, Emily."

I could only groan at the thought.

He continued in that vein, telling me that Rosalie would be doing the same with my ass, and that they would continue doing so until I was a quivering jelly-like mess; unable to tolerate another lick or suck. And only then would he deem it proper to fuck me like I'd never been fucked before.

My insides clenched with anticipation as he moved up my body and I felt his stubbled chin graze my nipples. I hissed my next breath, craving his touch and not caring where it came. I raised my hips in hopes that he would lick me, or finger me to the elusive orgasm that seemed just out of reach.

And when he sent his magnificent tongue in a gentle sweep over my clit – I came hard and soaked the sheets between my legs.

He laughed heartedly at my abrupt discharge and I felt humiliated when I heard Rosalie's six-inch heels walk into the room.

"Hello, Rosalie," I gasped still tingling from my orgasm.

"Hello Emmy, ready for some rough fun?"

"Yesssss," I hissed, only to jerk and pull back when she bit my right nipple.

"Pain and pleasure. Does it matter which comes first?" Rosalie asked with a husky chuckle as her fingertips skimmed over my ribs, waist, and hips before returning to the same nipple she'd bitten moments earlier.

I was on fire wanting more.

Then Klaus released my wrists from their bindings and positioned me on all fours.

"Now you're talking!" Rosalie barked happily as she spread my ankles apart, opening me to both of them.

If I thought I was on fire moments earlier, I was now consumed with need of sexual gratification.

"Please," I whined, "someone ... touch me!"

I felt Klaus maneuver himself under me. Then he was fingering me with a nonchalant aplomb. He started with three fingers and quickly went to four on finding me so wet as my body jerked like a puppet on a string with each shove in or out of my swollen labia.

"Oh yes!"

"Do you like this?" Klaus asked.

"Ugh ... oh yeah ... I love it!" I spread my legs wider to give better access to his lovely fingers.

I was so wet that I could hear the squish of his fingers as they moved within me.

"How's that?" Rosalie inquired.

"Need ... more!" I gasped hoarsely.

Moments later, I felt Rosalie squatting by my ass, and with Klaus's assent, began lapping away at my anus. When she considered it wet enough, she sent her middle finger in. Of course my anus had been plundered sufficiently earlier that morning so that she was able to insert three of her slim fingers in short order. I was being fingered fore and aft, as the Navy boys would say, and loving every ounce of the digital penetration. Rosalie's fingers were creating such lovely sensations that I began to wonder if my clitoris is somehow attached to my rectum. (Note: certain nerve endings may, in fact be so attached.) I also came to appreciate the reasoning behind the blindfold, as it made each touch more sensitive, each sound more acute, and each smell more fragrant; although one might argue that the aroma of another's perspiration isn't fragrant, but repulsive.

But they had only begun – Klaus had promised as much; and within a minute or two, they repositioned me so that I was sort of hunched over Klaus with his cock deeply embedded in my front while Rosalie applied her insatiable appetite for anal play by sending her tongue surging in and out of my backdoor.

In no time at all their combined efforts turned me into the quivering mess Klaus had said they would. And when Rosalie abandoned my ass to lap at my clit the very moment Master's magnificent cock almost, but not quite left my cunt, I began convulsing with a brain shuddering orgasm.

There's an expression: 'She was putty in his hands.' I knew for a fact that I was putty, and wouldn't have cared had they decided to carve me up with butcher knives after that cum. I knew it couldn't get any better. But I would go through hell to see if it were possible. I was addicted to this treatment as much as any addict to their heroin.

Klaus was laughing as he slapped my sodden twat with his billy club of a cock. Rosalie deftly avoided his swinging club and contented herself in licking the insides of my thighs and sending darting flicks of her tongue into my saturated pussy when my lord and master tired of hitting me with his lovely cudgel.

Of course, another tumultuous climax hovered nearby, and when she simultaneously nipped at my clit and held those recently ass probing fingers next to my nostrils, the combination my own scent and the thrilling sensations emanating from my clit drove me over the wall and into such a wildly satisfying cum that I was babbling in tongues some twenty minutes after they removed my blindfold and abandoned me.

An hour or so afterward, I was introduced to some rougher treatment. They placed my willing body on the dining room table and tied several turns of a rough textured rope around each ankle. Perhaps it was too tight for I still bear the marks to this day. Nevertheless, I watched with little interest while Rosalie secured her knots, and then Klaus turned me on my side and tied additional cuffs of rope around each wrist before stringing a length of rope through each cuff and down through each ankle, pulling them snug so that my arms were drawn down and my ankles pulled up against my ass, forcing my knees open in an obscene, froglike position, and leaving my sex exposed and defenseless.

I couldn't see much. My hair had fallen down in front of my face, and no matter how I twisted my neck or turned my head it continued to obscure my view of what they were doing.

"What are you doing, Master?" I finally asked.

"You've heard of hog-tying?" He answered as he continued to tighten the ropes. "Well this is called frog-tying and it's one of those things I want to demonstrate to you. Of course, Rosalie will take pictures of it as we proceed."

Then, as he fingered me to the point where my pussy was hungrily sucking back at his darling digits, I found myself panting as Rosalie took picture after picture while we both giggled inanely.

(I have since learned that the heart of the BDSM experience is where the slave is reduced to that of a sexual beast, a creature of pure sensuality. I also discovered that I enjoyed being the center of their attention; that I was experiencing something primal, more basic than even love or affection, a kind of deep sexual polarity of male and female, blind and biological.)

I stopped giggling when I saw Klaus heating a long needle and before I knew what he about, he'd pierced both my nipples. And, after cleaning the same needle with alcohol, he pierced my oh so sensitive clit. It hurt of course, but looking back it was the fact that I was helpless to do anything about it that I remember more than the pain, which was fleeting.

"Normally," I heard him say, "I don't fuck with a woman's cunt after piercing the clit, but I'm making an exception in your case, Emily."

With that, he slapped me lightly on my clit and I experienced the most excruciating pain of my life. I couldn't stop screaming ... that is until he threatened to do it again if I didn't stop.

"Accept the pain. Embrace the pain, Emily," he said soothingly, and I really, really tried to accept it. But it was too intense for me to do it.

He slapped my clit again. I think my entire body levitated off the table, at least it felt that way. I managed to keep the scream in my throat, but when Klaus repeated the slap, I nearly bit through my lip in order to keep from crying out and having to endure another blow to that hypersensitive area.

"Our greedy little cum-whore's bleeding from the mouth; you think she bit her tongue?" Rosalie said calmly.

"No, it's her lip, look there, you see?"

"Oh, yes, of course, you're right, Master."

"Would you like to cum from having that clit of yours spanked, Emily?" Klaus whispered into my ear.

"No ... please, no, Master!" I croaked.

"I can promise you it would be one you'll never forget."

"Th ... thank you, but please, no Master.

"Well then, how do you feel about a good old fashioned ass fucking?" he said with an obscene laugh.

Realizing that an anal penetration was vastly preferable to vaginal at that point, I told him I would like nothing better, and humbly asked if he would take me anally.

It was then that he hoisted me off the table, having secured the rope to a hook in the ceiling and maneuvered me until I was hovering alongside the table. Rosalie pried my knees apart and fingered my ass enough to stretch the anus until it gaped obscenely open in invitation to Klaus's member. I was already sufficiently primed for an ass fucking, but she made certain Klaus would have no difficulty in entering me.

In the deeper recesses of my mind I appreciated her effort on my behalf as I slowly spun in the network of ropes until Klaus held my thigh halting the spinning and positioned me for his anal entrance.

I caught sight of Rosalie holding a video camera and my humiliation increased tenfold. The world would soon be watching me as he fucked my ass. Was this part of my list of wants? I no longer remembered what I'd asked for and what he was adding to the list.

I squealed from the sudden bolt of pain when he split my ass again; for somehow the penetration reverberated straight to my recently pierced clit and sent a bolt of pain from it throughout my body.

It didn't top Klaus one iota, as he held me in place and drove his penis deeper and deeper into my anal channel.

Then he flicked his fingers against the piercing in my clit again and I started screaming and found that I couldn't stop. It was horrifying to know there was nothing I could do to end it, and I kept screaming as he flicked his finger against it over and over until I passed out.

Rosalie splashed some water on my face and revived me.

I later found out that Klaus had done it because of my reaction to his clit flicking had me contract on his cock, imparting considerable pleasure to him. On hearing it I discovered that I derived pleasure myself from pleasing him so. But at the time I dreaded his every touch until released from my bindings.

I can still hear his beguiling voice, "Come on, Emily, cum for me, let the juices drip from your cunt while I fuck this delectable ass of yours. Cum for me, Emmy, or I'll start slapping your clit again. I want to see the juices running down your ass crack!"

FLICK!

I heard myself screaming again.

FLICK

He continued spanking my turgid little nub, increasing the velocity of each subsequent blow: SPLAT! WHAP! SMACK!

My hands twisted desperately in the bonds, (Hence the scars mentioned earlier.) my stomach tightened convulsively, and my breasts quaked as spasms of pain and gradually, oh so gradually an iota of pleasure seeped into the mix and I began to cum for him as he wanted me too.

Somewhere in there, he began pulling on my hair, yanking some out by the roots. I was so far out of it that I failed to hear him screaming and it was only on watching the video later that evening that I heard his words: "Give it to me, bitch! Give it to me, you fucking slut!"

Evidently I had responded to his voice by clamping down on his rampaging cock, holding it so tightly he couldn't move. Then as I stared at the giant TV screen, I remembered the moment his molten seed spurted into me while he squeezed my breasts as if they were handles. I watched myself go limp on the screen, and felt faint from watching the scene played back. The room was devoid of all sound save the lewd squelching sounds of his cock and the sharp violent slap of loins against my thighs echoing like pistol shots in the room.

I heard myself croaking, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" In a mindless mantra even as he extracted his swollen penis from my body. The camera, it had to be Rosalie operating it, zoomed in on yawning anus.

A minute or so later, Rosalie fearfully inquired, "Should I take her down, Master?"

"No, let her swing for a while longer. But look at her ... she's dripping like a faucet from that cunt. I've never seen anything like it, have you?'

"No Master, I haven't."

"She's one of a kind, our Emily is," he said to no one in particular.

"She is Master, one of a kind," Rosalie parroted.

"Come on Rose, we'll leave her like this and go out for a drink."

And just like that, they left me hanging hogtied as my muscles began to cramp.

Of course I didn't recall any of this. But seeing it on the screen brought back bits and pieces. Several hours passed. The video played on and we all watched for a time. I had screamed, whined and cried until my tear ducts were dry, but no one heeded my sounds of anguish and pain. At Klaus's command, Rosalie fast-forwarded the tape to the point they returned and eventually loosened my bonds allowing me to stretch out.