textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/screams.txt

                              His Slave Screams
                             Written by subjukate

                      Chapter One of Seven: An Escapist

     Screams. The most lovely screams ever heard emanated from the loving
demonstration on the auditorium floor. Interested yet disembodied faces
peered down behind the wall of darkness at the young man who labored his
flogger over the backside of his dripping wife. It was obvious that she
was grateful as she hung there. The spectacle had gone on for over thirty
minutes, and she hovered on the brink of orgasm, but still she did not
come. The watching eyes waited in hopeful expectation that soon she would
come, but she did not. The flogging continued.

     Way up at the top of the circular auditorium, back behind everyone
else, sat a singular young lady with her legs crossed. The room was filled
with couples, yet she sat alone and silent. She knew what the young wife
needed that this husband did not. He could not push her the way she
needed, and if she did not come soon, the masters would stop him, to
protect her. The young man was a shaky novice dominant whose wife had
begged for the flogging. He felt insecure at the prospect and so he had
arranged for this private session with their group. He felt that she would
be safer if he received guidance this first time. The elders were deeply
moved and granted him this one session. The young woman up in the back
wept sweet tears. How romantic that he would care for his submissive so
much that he would not risk harming her, how beautiful, how blissfully
perfect. She felt the strange heat she usually reserved for lonely moments
in the back of her closet, bound amidst the smell of leather. She felt
certain that given the proper circumstances, everyone in the lecture hall
could easily fall onto one another in the heated frenzy this demonstration
inspired. Perhaps later, in someone's well appointed home, they would.

     She was lost in thought when Lord John stepped up to the tired young
husband and took the flogger from him. John spoke words of encouragement
to the wife and sent the husband forward so that she could see his face.
Thirty-five minute--that is the limit; no more than that. The time stood
at thirty-three. She would have to come soon if she would come at all, in
her first flogging. They all wanted her to come. They all knew the cutting
pain of the first flogging. The bodies of the audience were poised on the
edges of their seats, and each hoped that Lord John could work his magic
once more.

     "Maggie," John said, "You are doing very well. Do you feel the heat?
The one in your loins?"
     Her voice came back ragged and hard, "I do."
     "You are too tense; your body is too tight. You cannot come if you
will not submit. Relinquish control to the whip."
     He gave her a light flick on her reddened backside. She acted as if
she did not feel it. He did it again, only the mark was longer this time.
She moaned. Her husband encouraged her; he touched her breasts and teased
her nipples.
     "Let go, Maggie. Give me what I want."

     He laid into her harder this time. Her breath became more labored and
her body arced against the bonds. Her moaning became louder. He struck her
one last time. A mark to the lower quadrant of her magnificent ass, and
she came. She did not scream like she did before. It was a high pitched
reaching that brought her husband to tears.

     The audience erupted in thunderous shouts. Master John returned the
flogger to Maggie's husband and stepped down into obscurity once more.

     The young lady up high in the darkened part of the audience returned
to her reading by book light, and did not notice as everyone left for the
play party afterwards. She did not notice as Master John sat down in the
row behind her. His cologne was her first clue that she did not sit alone.


     She looked up at him and smiled. "Good evening," she said. She had
the most adorable smile. Her hair framed her face in a classic blunt cut
that flattered her thin brown hair. Everything about her screamed
femininity, though at the same time, she seemed androgynous. She wore
almost no makeup, and in the thin light John could see the steel
submissive's ring in her ear. The lapis bead held captive indicated that
she had had formal training in her slavery, probably from the Academy in
France. He looked a little harder at her. Her lovely face was a study in
serenity, the trademark of the properly trained slave. Someone else would
not help but wonder why she would be alone. A slave such as this should be
kept in irons hidden away from the unappreciative eyes of common men.
     "Please allow me to introduce myself. I am John Dermont. I am in
charge of locking up the building tonight. I have seen you in the back of
these meetings occasionally. We usually restrict our membership to couples
only."
     "So why do they let you stay?" she asked. She had a point. Clearly,
he hadn't a slave.
     "I started this group," he replied. "I can do what I want," he added
simply. "May I ask your name?"
     "You don't remember?"
     "No, I cannot say that I do."
     "I am Laura Suttersfield. I am in your Victorian Sexuality class at
the University."
     He studied her face still harder. Yes. Laura Suttersfield. Fifth row,
eighth seat, B minus in the class. "Please forgive me. The lighting is
dim. However, even in this dim light, I can see that you have your legs
crossed. Surely it would displease your masters, Laura, to know that you
dishonor them. You disgrace your education and training as a slave by
being disrespectful to your masters. If one of your trainers were to see
you like that they would surely beat you to within an inch of your life.
Doesn't that frighten you?" The words fell from his lips without malice.
     "No," she said carelessly. "A master from my school has never so much
as walked on this continent. They will not know, sir."
     "Surely your master will punish you..."
     "No, he will not."
     "Why? How can you be so sure? Your markings speak of several years of
formal training. Don't tell me you have forgotten to fear your elders."
     "I fear them. Yes. I do. But I don't have a master."
     "Why not?"
     "I have escaped him."


                              His Slave Screams:
                             Written by Subjukate

                       Chapter Two of Seven: Aural Sex

     The next day in class, she pretended that she had not seen him the
night before. She did not speak to him, as usual. She did not look into
his eyes like she did the night before, and when she sat up above him in
the raised seats, she opened her legs as good slaves do. Usually Laura
wore really long dresses with full skirts and petticoats. Today she sat
with the skirt drawn up. When he first realized what she was doing he
considered making her leave, but it pleased him so. His baggy pants hid
his raging pole, and he prayed the prayers of weak men in light-colored
pants. He made the entire lecture to her shaved cunt. He could see every
curve and color. There was a strange magical gleaming between her thighs,
like stars. He could practically smell the scent from where he stood a
mere twelve feet away. His mouth watered for the taste of it. He could
humiliate her by announcing to the class her transgression. He marveled at
her courage and pondered the lengths he would make her go to in order to
please him. He would make her beg to be bound. In the back of his mind he
began planning a session in which he would bind her legs open and stare at
her cunt, unencumbered by privacy considerations. Perhaps he would let his
tongue taste it. Perhaps he would make her suck his cock. Perhaps he would
examine the stars between her legs.

     Once the class was dismissed, he hobbled to his office and locked the
door behind him. In the privacy of his secluded one room, amidst the old
Italian antiques, he bared his raging hard-on and sat down to his desk.
The leather seat felt cold and smooth against his bare backside, and he
reveled in its familiarity as he gazed at the manhood between his thumb
and forefinger of his left hand. Precome had begun to dribble from the
slit in the top of his fat prick. The mere caress of his hand soothed him
and he laid his head back against the headrest of his black leather chair.
The movement of his hand quickened as did his breath.

     Suddenly there was a piercing ring that surprised and frightened him.
He made a small yelp that distracted him from his self-ministrations. His
eyes flew open expecting to see someone standing at the door.

     It was the phone. The phone was ringing. It had never seemed so loud
before. He made a mental note to himself to find a way to creatively use a
sudden startle in a session. It rang. It rang again. It rang several
times. He could not concentrate, so loud was its ringing, so he picked up
the receiver.

     "This is John." He said brusquely.
     "How does it feel?" asked Laura's sexiest voice.
     "Laura, just the girl I was hoping to hear from. I have a handful of
things that I'd love to share with you."
     "So, I guessed. Did you like what you saw?"
     "Why, yes. It has inspired me to great lengths."
     "How great?"
     "It hurts."
     "I could help you relieve that pain. I would think that serving you
would be a wondrous thing. It would be frightening though. I have trouble
these days, serving in person. I break down and cry. It has put a
tremendous damper on my servitude. Let me serve you this way, please. I
promise that I will not do it again without your permission. I don't
normally go about raising my dress. I have always had trouble fucking
strangers."
     "Someday, I will tell you why you cannot fuck strangers."
     "Could you tell me now?" she asked timidly.
     "No, not yet. I have something else I want to show you first. Where
are you now?"
     "I am in the back of my closet. I have blindfolded myself and bound
my feet."
     "Have you disrobed?"
     "I have."
     "You are a good girl, and I am very pleased with you. Don't be afraid
of me now. If you do as I say, I will tell you why you don't enjoy sex
with strangers. Do you want me to help you?"
     "Yes, sir, I do. I was afraid to ask you to help me. I do not wish to
be a burden to you."
     "Laura, silence. I want you to focus on the things I tell you to do.
You will need to resort to simple 'yes' and 'no, sirs' until I tell you
not to. Understand?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "Are you comfortable? Can you wiggle your toes? Are your feet going
cold?"
     "I feel fine."
     "You are nervous, as you should be. Lay down for me, please. Present
your sex to me as you have been taught."

     She lay down on the closet floor , placing her hand beneath her ass,
raising it a bit. With her legs spread wide she could begin to smell the
faint beginnings of the impending torrential flood that would soon pour
from her cunt.

     "How does that feel?"
     "I am comfortable, sir."
     "Good. Now tell me about your first experience with your favorite
trainer at the Academy. Do you remember the name?"
     "His name was Sir Gus."
     "Sounds like a good man. What did he teach you that first time?"
     "He taught me about withholding."
     "Go on," he encouraged gently.
     "It was in my first month. It was one of my first training sessions
and I was painfully shy about my sexuality. I endured many beatings
because of my reluctance. One of the elders decided that my reticence was
caused by my own awkwardness with myself. Gus was sent to familiarize me
with the pleasures of my own anatomy." She paused, took a long breath and
asked, "May I touch myself?"
     "You may, but do not come. If you come, I will give you a formidible
punishment. Continue with your story."
     "Thank you, sir." She gathered her thoughts. "I met him in an
examination room. He made me lie down on a wooden table with my ass on the
edge. He would name the parts of my sex and touch them, and make me repeat
them. Eventually, he would touch something and I would have to tell him
its Latin and slang terms. Of course, I became highly aroused, especially
while he explored the G-spot. He manipulated my sex until I was about to
come and then left me for three of the longest minutes of my life. Then he
instructed me to make myself come."
     "And how did you do that? Vibrator? Manipulation, penetration?"
     "I massage my clitoris, protecting it with the hood."
     "Ah, clever girl! Are you doing that now?"
     "I am."
     "Good."
     "Sir, my fingers are wet. May I taste them?" she asked.
     John began to stroke his cock, slowly at first. "Yes, my dear, you
may. However, you must dip your fingers deep inside you. Tell me what it
tastes like."
     "I am sweet today, sir. I taste like sugar and salt." She made
sucking noises that caused his dick to get harder than before. He shifted
his weight in the chair and moved back a bit from beneath the desk.
     "Laura, my good little slave, tell me how you wish to serve me. I
ache to know."
     She swallowed hard and said, "I have these fantasies, sir."
     "Tell me." His left hand was moving faster now.
     "I want to be allowed to suck your cock until you cream in my mouth,
sir. I want to know how you taste."
     "It is good for us to want things, Laura. I want to hear you come. Do
you think you could do that for me now? Tell me the steps you will take."
     "I can? I can come? Your are going to let me come?"
     "Yes. Does that surprise you?
     "Uh-huh..." Her voice trailed off as she began to quicken the
movements around her clitoris. Her legs began to hump up and she used her
legs to lift herself off the floor as if to attempt to give him relief in
absentia. She began to moan softly and there were audible squishing noises
as the muscles in her cunt gripped his imaginary cock. Her breath came in
ragged rasps and her moans became a little louder.
     "'Yes sir,'" he reminded her. "You are such a good slave for obeying
me. I know that you will do the things I tell you. Right now, Laura, I
need you to massage your breasts with your free hand. Are your nipples
hard?"
     Her reply was an unintelligible gasp. He continued, "Yes, I thought
so. Your nipples want to be sucked. Your cunt wants to be sucked. You need
to be fucked. You need to come when I tell you, and not before. I am not
ready, so pace yourself."
     "Master, I am so close. My canal is dripping and... I... Oh, please
fuck me. Give me every inch of your fucking cock. I need to feel it inside
of me. I want you to drive it into me. Master, please..."
     His hand flew against the hard red skin of his fuck pole and he
thought about what it would be like to drive his dick deep into her
pungent slit. He wanted to fuck her really hard, so that her whole body
moved when he drove into her. Now his breathing became gasps and a thin
sweat covered him as he felt his come begin to boil. He was raising his
ass off the chair. Raising his dick up into her, straining to feel the hot
bliss on the other end of the line.

     Abruptly he noticed that she was crying, begging to be allowed to
come. "Not yet, you are not ready. A little more. A little more," he
directed her.
     "Master, please, help me; I can't stop myself."
     "Laura, try to relax. Breathe. You may not come. Hold yourself there
a little longer."
     She sat at that heightened state, and he held on with her. She was
wailing and crying, until finally he said...
     "Go ahead. Let me hear you come for me. Laura. Let go. Come."
     No sooner had he said the first two words than he heard a loud
release. Her voice echoed the crashing waves that rolled through her. It
was more than he had hoped for. As the hot jizz boiled up through his
raging member, he raised his ass up and flexed his asshole, hard. Come
fountained out of his dick in great long spurts showering the seat with
his semen. He muffled his verbal response in a long deep breath as he came
and came and came, thinking about her fuck channel, about its tightness
and heat. When the boiling sperm had finally ceased its rocketing, he
spoke again.
     "Are you okay? You are awfully quiet."
     "I am. I had not come in a long time. I am shattered."
     "Good. I am pleased with the way you held off. I am certain your
trainer would be proud. I would like you to rest now, and think about this
experience. I want you to write down your feelings, and get the paper to
my office by tomorrow morning."
     "I understand. Thank you, sir. I am not worthy of you, sir."
     He laughed and said, "Oh, yes. Yes, you are. Laura, the reason you
feel uncomfortable fucking those you do not know is because they are
beneath you. You are a queen who chooses to serve. You choose who you'll
serve."
     There was a long silence and then he asked, "Will you serve me
again?"
     "Yes, I'd like to."
     "Good. The society has a presentation on Thursday in the auditorium.
I hope you'll be there."


                              His Slave Screams
                             Written by subjukate

                   Chapter Three of Seven: Laura's Liaison

     The next time he saw her, she was sitting in the back of the
auditorium. Again her skirt was open as he addressed the happy couples
dressed in suits, ties and dresses. He covered the minutes of the last
meeting and announced the address and accompanying dress code of the next
play party. The first time he looked up at her she was smiling at him from
behind her book. The second time he glanced at her, she was fingering
herself, and staring at him. She held her legs open, and again he felt the
strange helplessness as he glanced at her shaved cunt and the little
stars. As he covered the new additions to the bylaws, she silently began
to bring herself off, her legs wide and her fingers working furiously. Her
head was held back in the throes of ecstasy, and she started the labored
breathing of a woman about to come. It was all he could do to read the
second clause on the fourth page, knowing that she was about to come
without permission. And she was. It was apparent by the flush in her
cheeks and the delirious unfocusing of her eyes that her orgasm was
imminent. No one saw; no one noticed.
     "Laura, stop," he said from the podium, suddenly. He then continued
speaking without explanation and presented the night's speaker on anatomy.
Laura stopped as she was instructed, but she wasn't happy about it.

     After the main speaker had begun the presentation on the female
anatomy, John made his way to the seat behind her.

     "I called the school today," he whispered threateningly into her ear,
ignoring the scent of her little love box. "They said that there are five
associates in this city alone who are all hunting to bring you back to
your apprenticeship at the school. They really miss you, Laura. Surrender
now and they won't ruin you."
     "No," she replied absently, straightening her skirt.
     "Laura, why did you run?" He waited for her response and then said,
"Laura, please. They said for me not to touch you. I thought that odd. I
would think that anyone knowing your little secret could take you with the
mere utterance of the secret phrase and the revelation of the master's
ring. But they said you were off-limits. Why?"
     She ignored him. No response. He could not take her and force her to
speak. It would have been disrespectful and illegal. However, he pondered
the thought while sitting behind her staring at that earring she didn't
deserve to wear.

     He stared at the nape of her neck for a very long time. Her head was
bowed and she seemed to perspire. It was almost as if she had a fever.
Then she spoke.
     "I ran because he damaged me."
     "How?"
     "I had a boyfriend who visited me at the school. He unexpectedly took
possession one night. He was ignorant and stupid. He broke both my arms by
suspending me incorrectly. He took me when Master Gus was gone, so my
trainer could not protect me. I fled from the school with my arms in
slings. I have been missing for six months. My ex-boyfriend is
incarcerated by now."
     "Do you want to go back?"
     "No, but they will try to persuade me."
     "You could come to my home. I could hide you. You could pretend to be
my housekeeper."
     "I carry two degrees in science and psychology, and you want me to be
your housekeeper?"
     "Yes," he replied. "Lucky you." He studied her face more closely; she
was very pale. Her face was flushed.
     "No. I don't think so," she said solidly.
     "I read your paper last night while eating dinner. I lost my
appetite. You write very well. I am pleased. Would you like to please me
further?"
     "The temptation is intense. What could I possibly do for a man of
your magnitude?"
     "I could show you." He studied her features acutely, trying to read
her intentions. Her nose was stuffy and her eyes were watery. It was
obvious.
     "Laura, you are very sick right now, aren't you?"
     "I think I have a cold."
     "How high is your fever? Do you know?"
     "102.4 degrees."
     "Let me take you home and take care of you. If you argue with me, I
will gag you, so don't say anything. Follow me."

     He left the closing duties to Maggie and took Laura to his home. She
made little noise in the car on the way. In fact, she was rather docile
and it amused him. He debated the comfort of his bed versus the guest room
versus the couch. The couch would do nicely due to its close proximity to
the kitchen and the TV wall. He took her clothes from her, undressing her
himself. He put her in his shirt, and marveled at the marking signature on
her lower back. "SGUS" it said, in lovely tattooed letters of china blue
on her pale white skin. Her cunt lips had been pierced and a golden chain
hung from the rings. She did not fight. She did not argue. He made soup
and fed it to her. He slept in the chair beside her until the fever broke
the next morning.

     He awoke first. Her hair was matted to her head with sweat and she
had uncovered herself. The little chain hung between her legs and he
wanted to examine its fastening.
     "Laura."
     She mumbled something in response.
     "May I look at you?"
     Her eyes opened and she looked at him weakly.
     "I already showed it to you. I showed you twice."
     "I'd like to look more closely."
     She opened her legs, but covered her chest and arms. John knelt
beside her and studied the rings that rang through the thick lips. He
pulled the chain carefully and breathed her heavy perfume. She sighed
contentedly. Her face smoothed in relaxed sensuality, and he kissed her.

     The kiss started just beneath the dimple on her left thigh and moved
upward leading to the piercing sites. He kissed them. She squirmed. Her
arms instinctively moved above her head into a bound position and she
closed her eyes tightly. She was pretending she was bound and blindfolded.
He smiled inwardly in appreciation at her surrender, and kissed a little
closer to the sweet dripping gash that begged to be sucked clean. What
delighted him most was that every single time he did something, she
responded somehow. This small kiss incited a moan. He wondered what
cunnilingus would bring.

     "Laura, may I kiss you?"
     "Yes sir, suck it dry, sir."
     "Your willingness pleases me, I will reward you with an orgasm. Do
you feel up to it?"
     She was lost in her enjoyment of his ministrations at that point, but
her consent was necessary. He stopped touching her until she returned to
her senses. "What? Oh, please, Master, I have been so good! What must I
do?"
     "Do you feel up to something simple?"
     "Yes, please, sir. Master, could you bind me first?"
     "No. Not this time. Not today. You seem to be doing fine unfettered
except for all this thrashing about. Be still for me, and breathe."
     She took a series of long breaths and her whole body relaxed into the
couch. Master was pleased, very pleased. Such control, such obedience. He
considered these factors as he suckled the flesh between her legs. Without
the straps it was difficult for her to keep from thrashing as he had
instructed. He used his fingers to massage her mound. Her mouth opened
into a perfect "O." She sighed heavily and she raised her hips slightly to
give him deeper access to the sweet nectar she had been saving for just
such an occasion. As he manipulated her clitoris with his mouth, he
slipped his index finger into her well-lubricated cunt. He moved it up
towards her clitoris from the inside. She recognized his actions and began
to thank him wildly.
     "Laura. Laura. Sshhhshshh. Don't speak. I will not gag you now.
Silence for me."
     Her body moved against him and for a fleeting moment he thought of
slamming his cock into her pussy. Logic and reason returned to him and he
continued with his task of manipulating the little button beneath her clit
with his finger.
     Her world had become hazy now. She was lifting her ass up against his
hand and face driving her clit into his mouth and begging, begging,
begging for him to fuck her.
     "No. Not yet. Settle down or I will stop," he said, raising his head.
"Laura, be still." He put his hand on her belly and pressed down, saying,
"I will not restrain you. Do not let your ass leave the fabric of my
couch. Be still." He returned to her cunt, licking, driving the sucking
organ deeper into her mound, fucking her with it. She rocked her head back
and forth gasping and moaning, her wails increasing in magnitude as she
approached her orgasm. His fingers worked furiously, his cock ached for
release, his tongue tired but he did not feel it. She was too tense. Even
though she carefully obeyed his instructions not to raise her ass, there
was too much tension in her. She could not come this way. He noticed that
she was not aware that the heightening had leveled out. He could keep her
like this for hours and days if only he had a housekeeper to feed them.
But not today. He would have to bring her to climax soon, or her strength
would give out, further frustrating her recovery.
     Slaves! he thought.
     He raised his head one last time. She was clearly far gone, but not
far enough. He took back his finger out of her. She screamed in protest
and sat up to speak. Laura began begging again.
     "No! You can't do this! Please don't do this now. It has been so
long! Don't leave me now."
     He wished strongly to gag her, but fought back the urge.
     "No. No. No. I am not leaving. I am not leaving now. I am not done.
Laura, please lie back down. Please?"
     Her breathing was labored and she was clearly frantic with her
frustration. But she lay back on the pillows. Her silence was impregnated
with anger, and it amused him.
     He rubbed her stomach with the palms of his hands. He caressed the
sinews of her abdomen and used his fingertips to soothe the stress from
her nipples.
     When her anger had left her he said, "When was the last time someone
fucked you?"
     "I can't remember."
     "No. That isn't good enough. Think. When was it?"
     She was quiet a long time. When she finally spoke, her words were
whispers.
     "It was when I broke my arms."
     "Yes. That is right. Your boyfriend was an idiot. People who practice
BDSM without the proper training risk accidents, painful ones. Laura, you
have to let this go. You are strained because you don't trust me, though I
don't expect you to. But I am listening. I can hear you. I can read your
body. I can give this to you. I can give you all those things that he
could not, in exchange for your submission."
     "Why?"
     "Because anyone can dominate; I am a Master."
     He smoothed the skin on her stomach one more time and said, "Now be
still. Be still in your bones. Be still in your head. Don't fight with me
now. Don't fight this. Submit."
     He raised her up by bringing her cunt to his mouth, cradling her ass
into his arms, clutching and sucking. Her breathing quickened as did his
tongue. It delved deeper into her and she sighed all the more. The cleft
between her thighs was warm and salty now, and he reveled in the new
waters that dripped from it. It became sweeter and it had thickened, much
like his cock. He swirled his tongue around her clit and gently pulled on
the hood with his teeth, and went back for more of the delicious cunt
drippings she made for him. Her moans had now become little screams, but
she maintained the stillness in her bones. It took her a long time to
return to the frenzied state.
     "Master," she finally said, "I am coming, sir."
     She went over the edge, and wailed all the way down. Her whole body
gathered up into one big spasm. Her heart seemed to stop, and her cunt
contracted around his tongue. John counted the spaces between her breaths
and waited anxiously for her to resume breathing after she came. When he
was certain she had finished,he let go of her pelvis. Feeling really good
about himself he said, "How are you now?"
     "I cannot see, sir. You have blinded me."
     He chuckled to himself and said to her, "You could try opening your
eyes."
     She made this wonderful noise he had never heard before. It started
as a giggle and transformed into unbridled laughter. It made him happy.
     When she was still again, he said, "The school only sent one master
to retrieve you, Laura. He has caught and reclaimed you."
     Her eyes flew open in surprise. Words stuck in her throat. Disbelief
and fear.
     John studied her reaction carefully, and smiled warmly at her, while
uttering the phrase that masters use to declare the use of a slave from
the school. Then he said, "I'll postpone punishment for crossing your
legs. You will learn to adore me as my housekeeper while living with me in
my home. I will complete your apprenticeship, unless, of course, you don't
want to be my housekeeper. Your freedom is always yours if you choose to
take it, naturally."
     She was quiet for a moment, as he massaged the kinks from her legs
and thighs. After a while she asked, "Which part of the house should I
clean first?"
     He laughed and replied, "Let me show you my dungeon!"


                              His Slave Screams
                             Written by subjukate

                      Chapter Four of Seven: Gus Awaits

     Two years had passed since Sir Gus had gazed upon Laura's naked form
and felt the rush of a trainer in his finest pursuit. He had learned to
play her like an instrument. He could cause her to cry out in specific
pitches with certain flicks of his wrist. He was proud of the way he had
reformed her without the breaking so common to the training. She was his
greatest achievement, and she had been stolen by fear and cowardice.

     He was aware that she had been found. He hand-chose Lord John for his
tenderness and sensitivity. If he had been the one to retrieve her, she
would not have come so easily. The deception was necessary, but still
unusual. He would allow her to train beneath John until her emotional
wounds had healed. She was, after all, a submissive slave, not a prisoner.
She could not be held against her will. He knew that when she was ready,
she would come; she always did.

     He resigned himself to waiting for her to come to him. John knew his
location and was aware of his affection for her. Gus would take the
appropriate steps to lure her back into her stable role as his submissive.
He would summon her to him in the most intimate fashion, a call only she
could hear. She would be helpless to resist him. It was actually very
simple. They were two halves of a secret equation that only they could
satisfy.

     Shortly after losing her, he had left the institute and moved to the
United States, where he took up residence in Texas, and took a position at
a very large private hospital as a physical therapist. He liked Texas. He
liked his work. He had shunned training slaves for several months and had
not taken a new pet project since Laura. He had originally trained as many
as three slaves at once. Every waking moment of his life at the school was
consumed by their education. It was a worthy pursuit, but none were as
rewarding as Laura. His thoughts wandered as he tidied his home and put
away the implements of self-pleasure and suffering left out from the night
before.

     Laura was a masochist by nature and predisposed to submissiveness in
the eighth degree. He could vividly recall the moment that she discovered
her masochistic tendency. It was the cat-o-nine tails that did it. As he
held it in his hand, it reminded him how it had changed her.

     It had occurred in her second year. He had not devised the
punishment, but it was well deserved as she had been cocky all week. It
culminated when she refused to rise at the appropriate hour. The dom she
was to serve that morning stormed her room and dragged her bodily from her
bed. He berated her soundly, explaining in detail what she had done to
deserve the punishment she was about to receive. She was bound to a chair
in the dining room, with her sex exposed. He applied the pronged nipple
clamps to her unprepared tips all the while telling her how she had
disappointed him, how she had disgraced herself, and how she did not
deserve to serve anyone. He was brutal and sarcastic. It did not take long
to reduce her to tears. The dom had waited, as was required, for Gus's
arrival. All punishments administered were observed by the training team.
She was not prepared but well protected. The nipples did not bleed, though
they were clearly strained. The dom pulled on the nipples, teased and
tormented her.
     Gus could recall staring in disbelief. She had thrown her head back
and was moaning from deep within her naked chest. The weeping came from
her belly. It was most unusual. The more cruel he was to her tortured
nipples, the more aroused she became. It was obvious, from her exposed
cunt, that she was deriving pleasure from it, and the dom became more and
more frustrated in his attempt to hurt her. His anger flared and he was
about to strike her when finally Gus stepped in and gave her a strong
whack to the inside of her thigh, close to the opening of her love tunnel
with his crop. She screamed and came violently without warning. He could
not help but laugh.
     Gus assigned another slave to the dom for service that morning and
took Laura aside into his office.

     He blindfolded her, bound her hands, and sat her naked backside in a
chair upholstered in fine Egyptian cotton. She was still crying
uncontrollably, and he wanted to soothe her. Unfortunately, the nipple
clamps would have to come off, which would only agitate her further.
     She was crying in fear and half-hysteria when he said, "Laura, be
still. You are in my office and I am not angry." She settled but still
whimpered. He continued, "You deserved the punishment, did you not?"
     "I did. I am sorry. I won't do it again." She was rigid in the chair.
     "The clamps will need to come off. It will hurt you, but I will
control your suffering."
     "No! Leave them on! No!" She fought the bindings of her hands.
     Gus smiled sadistically and said, "I am pleased with you. You have
aroused me and I would like to indulge you in the fucking you so richly
desire, but first I must remove the clamps." He toyed with them as he said
this, gently moving them with his finger. She squirmed and sighed. With
his left hand he pinned her to the back of the chair. With his right he
unhinged the clamp. She screamed and cried out as he threw it to the
floor. The second was more difficult to remove because she was fighting
him, now.
     "Laura. Laura, please."
     "No, please, Master, I cannot bear it. I can't. Mercy, please, sir,
have mercy on your slave."
     "If I could give it to you I would. Short of rendering you
unconscious, I can think of nothing to make this easier for you."
     "Please, sir, I cannot bear it."
     He renewed his grip and solidly pinned her while removing the last
jagged clamp. Two small droplets appeared as she lurched forward while
making a wail that made him wonder how he could ever forget to gag her.
Laura fell to the floor in tears fighting with the ropes around her
wrists. He watched her momentarily, and then stooped to unbind her. When
she was free she clung to his neck and sobbed apologies into his shoulder.
He was deeply moved and her intensity tempted him. When the tears ebbed
and her whimpers had stopped, he asked her if she had noticed anything
unusual about the punishment. She was too upset to really analyze the
experience, and so he had one of the first year slaves take her back to
her bed to quiet down. He left instructions with the staff for her to be
left alone and she stabilized in her solitude.

     The next morning he took his cat-o-nine tails with him when he went
to check her. She was still damp from her morning bath and she shied away
from him upon seeing the instrument he had brought with him.
     "You have never been stroked with one of these," he said, holding it
up. "I will not mark you right now. I brought this so that you could
examine it closely. Here. Hold it."
     She sat on her bed and held it with both hands as if she were
frightened of dropping it. She examined it in what appeared to be
controlled terror. Her breathing quickened.
     "I need to examine you where you were wounded yesterday before I can
send you back into service. Please lay back and place your arms above your
head." He took the flogger from her and placed it on the floor as she
nervously laid down in her bed and put her arms in the yielding pose. Gus
pulled a chair up next to her bed and gently touched the tender pink
nipples. They were raw and red where the skin had broken. He was careful
not to touch the ragged edges as he touched them.
     "Did you rub in the salve I sent after dinner last night?" he asked.
     Her reply was barely audible. "Yes, sir."
     "Did you apply it to your wrists too?"
     "Oh no. I forgot." She was becoming upset again, fearful of another
punishment.
     "No, no. It's okay. I did not instruct you to salve your wrists. Let
me see them."
     She sat up and held out her hands for him to see. No marks. No
bruises. Good.
     "This looks good. Lay back down please." She settled back into her
previous position as he readied the salve on his hands. She did not look
at him as he massaged it into the thin skin of her breasts. He had always
loved the feel of her breasts. He liked their weight and how they hung.
She winced as he smoothed the salve over the raw area left by the jagged
jaws of the clamp. As he began to administer the salve to the second
breast she began to tremble. This amused him.
     "Open your thighs for me." She hesitated so he added a forceful
"Now." Her thighs opened quickly and he brought his hand down to test the
waters of her delta. She had flooded. Then he said, "Laura, tell me what
happened when I leveled the inside of your thigh with the crop yesterday
during your punishment. Did you come? Is that what that strange release
was?"
     "I have been thinking about that. I think I did come, but, it wasn't
like the other orgasms that I have had since I came here."
     Slowly, her trainer began the gentle circles the he knew would arouse
her. He said, "Tell me how it was different."
     "It wasn't just my cunt that spasmed, my whole body participated. And
when it stopped, I felt like someone else."
     "How do you mean?"
     "I felt like I had been recharged and my whole body was on fire."
     "Do you feel that now?" He asked alluding to her gentle undulation
beneath his hands.
     "No..."
     "I am going to test you. No harm will come to you."
     He continued the slow circles around her clitoris with his one hand
while massaging the salve into the aching nipple with the other. She
recoiled at first. Then the pressure continued to build and she slipped
back into the original rhythm of her sexual dance. He increased the
stimulation to the nipple and upped the speed of her clitoral massage. She
began to sigh and moan.
     "Oh, that is very good, my sweet slave. You are such a good girl for
trusting your master." He cooed, "You are a good girl. Good... Good...
Now, tell your master what you want."
     "Master, please allow me to come."
     "Oh, Laura, you are nowhere near being ready to come. Usually this
whole process takes you much longer. Why do you suppose you are this close
so soon?"
     Her head was rolling to the right and left as she fought to control
herself. "Uh, sir, please..."
     "No, not yet. What is different? Think. Tell me," he demanded.
     Her thrashing up against his cupped and gentle hand had increased in
intensity. He slipped two long fingers up into her on the next upward
thrust while carefully pinching the angry red nipple. Her sighs became
more pronounced as she almost came uncontrollably. He let go of the nipple
and held her head while speaking to her and tormenting her begging cunt
with his hand. "The word you are searching for is 'masochist.' You seem to
enjoy pain. Not intense pain or senseless self-destructive pain, like
some. It appears you do best with some sense of support and care. I will
remember this for your sake. You may let go now. Come for me. Come."
     As if a dam had burst from the confines of her heart, she let go
floods of emotion. Her whole body contracted around his fingers and
gripped them as if she sought to incorporate them into her very being. She
cried out naturally, but it was the cry of release. She spasmed several
times, and then went limp beneath him. Her eyes closed and she said, "Is
it bad that I am a masochist?"
     "No, my dear. It is good."
     "Why?" she asked, in a small child-like voice.
     "Life is full of pain. If you learn to enjoy suffering, you can learn
to enjoy more of your life."
     "How will you use this?"
     "With this understanding, I can teach you more fully, and punish you
more completely."
     "But, sir, how do you punish someone who enjoys pain?"
     He laughed, and said, "All in good time. I will show you, all in good
time."

     Months and years had passed since that small moment when he knew how
perfectly formed she was for him and the pleasuring of him. His love for
her had become his religion. Studiously, he packed the cat-o-nine tails
into the package and sealed the box labeled to her new address at Lord
John's house.
     Housekeeping. Truly, her masochism had increased in intensity. She
hated housekeeping.


                              His Slave Screams
                             Written by subjukate

                   Chapter Five of Seven: Cat-O-Nine Tails

     Laura received the package within days of its sending. She did not
recognize the handwriting on the label, nor did it possess a return
address, but she knew who had sent the flogger by its smell. She carefully
pulled it from the wrappings as if it were made of fine china. She
arranged its tendrils as if they were hair. Laura did not lust for it. Her
desire for pain did not rear up, as curiosity had possessed her suddenly.

     Sir Gus knew where she was. He had sent this tool as a message. The
message was simply this: Gus was the only person who knew about her
painful secret. He never told the other members of the staff that she
enjoyed pain. Only he could give her the exquisite release that agony
offered, and the most intense release came from this cat-o-nine tails. She
knew because it smelled like her. She had soaped it with the oils that she
made for him. Gus knew where she was. Therefore, John knew where Gus was.

     In those dark moments, standing alone in the kitchen with her
cat-o-nine tails in hand, Laura came to the revelation that she would have
to see her trainer again. She would have to find him and subjugate herself
to him.
     Laura first enslaved herself to him after an elaborate ceremony in
which common slaves were released to their masters in the outside world.
Laura had decided to stay and apprentice herself in the hopes of one day
becoming a mistress of sorts at the school. After the independence
ceremony, after all the other slaves were gone and only staff was left,
they held an auction.

     All of the masters stood around her and made their bids of what they
had to offer her that the others could not. The opening bid was six hours
of oral sex, a tempting offer to begin an elaborate procession of offers
from many men and women. The original bids covered the gamut of sexual
ecstasy. After the fourth round the bids included not only sexual feats
but social ones as well. Dom Galen offered her Phantom of the Opera
tickets. Mistress Amy had tickets to Kiss of the Spider Woman but would
offer oral sex in the aisle And so forth. This went on and on. Eventually,
Laura tired of it and lost track of who was offering what. Sir Gus had not
attended the auction citing his belief that slaves cannot sell themselves,
their gifts can only be given. Still, she wished that he had attended. She
would have welcomed his strength. He would have to give her over to her
new master, and so she stopped the auction and sent for him. He arrived
within moments and asked her for the name of the one she had chosen.
     "I can't," she said. He looked at her dumbfounded.
     "Why? Why not? The finest trainers on the planet are assembled in
this room. Can't you choose one of them?"
     "Everyone has made a bid but you," she had said.
     "Oh. Well, you know that I will not do that. You cannot sell yourself
to me."
     "But if I did, what would you give me?"
     "I would give you what I have always given you."
     "And what is that?"
     "Whatever you want."
     She smiled at him, and the other trainers groaned. "Sold," she said.

     The next day, she was taken to his quarters, where she was bound to
his table. He sent for her two hours before the tattooist was to arrive in
order to prepare her appropriately. He bathed her himself as the rest of
the slaves had gone. Even though he had explained in the minutest of
detail what would happen, she was still nervous. It amused him and he
sought to distract her. Gus told her stories as he massaged her back to
relax her. He used licorice oil which would deaden the pain a bit. He
massaged it into the fleshy lips of her cunt and she was quite numb and
calm when the tattooist arrived. She did not notice the engraving of her
master's name into the area just above her backside. However, it drew her
concern when Gus pinned her pelvic region to the table. He had not warned
her of the piercing and so she was very surprised, but not frightened.

     Days later, after the chain was in place and the soreness had
subsided, he let her sleep in his bed with him.

     When she went to sleep the night before, he had not been in the bed
with her. The whole campus had been deserted and the masters and trainers
were initiating the new doms with a play party. It was supposed to be
quite something, but Laura was still sore and did not wish to attend. He
threatened that he would bring the other masters with him to show them the
things that they had lost. She smiled halfheartedly and went off to bed.
When she awoke, his rooms were dark, and he was not beside her, which
concerned her at first. Then she noticed that he was indeed in the bed. He
was low in the bed between her thighs and what had awakened her was his
tongue.
     "Does it still hurt you?" he asked, referring to the piercing sites.
     "Yes. Some." She replied.
     "I have been primed at the gathering downstairs, and to tell you the
truth, I have shunned all others to save myself for you. " He studied her
face in the pale light from the uncovered window. He went on, "Since you
are now my property, and I won you, I can do whatever I want to you, but
if you are willing it makes it better for me. Do I need to bind you?"
     "Do you want to bind me?"
     "I would prefer if you would surrender without restraint."
     "I could do that."
     "Then open yourself to me." Her thighs slid apart. He sniffed her
cunt and savored its sweet humidity. "You are very wet, Laura. Tell me
why."
     "It is because you are so close. I want to make something good for
you to eat."
     He sent a tentative tongue out to the dripping snatch in front of
him. "I could eat you, but not right now. I need you to get up on all
fours so I may take you from behind."
     She rolled over and raised her ass to him.
     In the light, he could see her cunt, dripping and wet, and her
asshole, which had been lubricated by the dripping of her cunt. He
considered his options while staring into the redness of her begging
entrances.
     "You look hungry ,my dear."
     "I am, sir," she said.
     "You need something to fill you, I think. Wait right here. Don't
move."
     He left her momentarily and returned. She could not see what he had
brought with him as she was turned way from him. She felt a warm rounded
knob gently opening her cunt. It slid in slowly and easily and she sighed
as it moved deeper into her. "Is that good?" he asked her.
     "Yes, Master. Is that you, sir?" she went on to ask.
     "No, that is just something to fill your hungry mouths."
     "Oh, thank you, sir."
     "Relax your backside. Have you ever been taken anally?"
     "Only once, sir. It was terrifying."
     "Hmm." He gently probed the anal opening with his pinky. "Does this
hurt?"
     "No sir," she said softly. He pressed in another finger; now she had
two. "And this?"
     "No sir."
     Then he placed a third finger inside of her. This time she strained a
bit more. "Oh," he said, "You are such a good slave. I will have to give
you my jizz soon. Would you like that? Would you like to feel your master
spurt his come inside of you?"
     "Yes Master, please come inside of me."
     "All right then." He removed his fingers and placed his dick head at
the opening of her puckered hole. Pressing carefully, she yielded as she
groaned softly.
     "Oh, my dear slave," he said. "You please your master so much. Take
it. Take it all in. There is a little more to fit inside of you, but I
know that it will go in. A little more. Oh, good girl."
     Finally it was deep within her, and as he thrust it into her, she
could feel the strain on her two channels being filled. Every thrust he
drove in would drive the dildo a bit further into her. She would contract
her cunt muscles forcing it out and causing her sphincter to contract
around him. This caused him to groan even harder. He was breathing heavily
as he plowed into her hot tight asshole. The driving was hard for her to
take and she tried to maintain her sense of self-control while thrusting
back to drive his pole deeper. The driving moved quicker and faster.
Eventually he said, "Oh, yes, my little slave. Your ass is so hot and
tight. I want to drive it deep in you. It may hurt but I will reward you.
Fuck me. Fuck me with your sweet tight ass. Oh yes... Good girl... How
does that dildo feel? Is it hard ? Does it make you want to fuck me
harder?. I can feel it inside you. Fuck me, sweetheart, harder now..."
     He drove deeper into her one last time, expelling his seed deep into
her stretched ass. She cried out as her cunt contracted around the dildo,
and he felt her spasms though her asshole around his dick. Her
contractions forced her to lose control of her arms and she began to fall
away from him. He held her up to him as he completed his come. When he was
finished she thanked him.

     All she could remember about that time was one orgasm after the next.

     As she tested the weight of the cat-o-nine tails, she made up her
mind to tempt Lord John. She would have to persuade him not only to let
her leave, but to tell her where to go . How difficult could it be? She
had everything she needed right there in her hands.


                              His Slave Screams
                             Written by subjukate

                Chapter:Six of Seven: Lord John's Domination

     That night after she had cleared the table of Lord John's dinner, she
asked him if he could help her with a new project she was working on. He
seemed intrigued and declared that he would be happy to help her in any
way.

     Hours later he arrived at the entrance to her quarters dressed in his
finest silk and cotton Italian suit, smelling of her favorite cologne. She
greeted him at the door dressed in a similar suit. This surprised him as
he did not know that she owned anything except the extremely long dresses
she always wore. She had darkened her rooms. Banks of white candles in
varying sizes burned, creating the most calming atmosphere. She had
created a compilation of industrial love songs. Presently she was
listening to a song that was clearly by Sting, yet he had never heard it
before, "I Burn for You." She allowed him in and removed his shoes. As she
massaged the arches of his feet, She said, "I need your help with the
project that I am working on."
     "Really? That feels delicious. I had no idea that you were such a
masseuse."
     "I need your help," she restated.
     He had thrown his head back and was completely given to the intimate
caress of her hands to his feet. Moments later he said, "Anything you
desire."
     "I need your consent."
     The haze in his head cleared at the tone of the phrase. It was a
verbal cue insinuating an imminent session involving consensual bondage
and sadomasochism. This was highly unusual as Laura was a strict
submissive. She had no natural desire to dominate. In fact, the only
reason that she had not been declared a certified mistress was because she
had no want or desire to dominate and hence had been unable to demonstrate
her abilities. He had waited for this natural progression for months. Now
that it had arrived, he was quite dumbfounded.
     He stumbled for words. "You need what?"
     "I need your consent."
     "To what, pray tell?"
     "I wish to practice my knots. You have never tested my knot-tying
ability."
     "I never suspected you would ever have need for such testing. You are
kidding, right? This is a joke?"
     "No, I am quite serious."
     He pondered her stance. Her expression spoke of seriousness and
sincerity. He reflected on he events of the day, and noted nothing of
importance during the course of the day that would cause her unhappiness.
She had been well schooled in binding. He would be as safe as one could
possibly be in the complete control of another. It had been years since he
had been dominated, and though submission was not his favorite role to
take, he had been known to enjoy a bit of binding himself.
     "All right then, but please be careful of my right arm. I gave blood
yesterday and the withdrawal site is still sore."
     "I will be careful of your arm."
     "What else am I agreeing to?"
     "Must I tell you? Can't we just settle with the idea that you will be
safe and leave here unharmed?"
     "We could do that? But I would feel more comfortable if I knew..."
     "Then forget it," she cut him off abruptly.
     Ah! An unforeseeable twist. This was completely unlike her. He
studied her furiously, and felt the strange want to submit.
     She was gathering his shoes and slipping him back on his feet when he
said slowly, "That was very good. I am unaccustomed to assertiveness.
Please forgive me. It was not my intention to be rude to you. It makes
sense that you would not want to tell me of the events that you had
planned. I was simply making certain that you had planned something as
opposed to something on impulse."
     "I arranged this music for you, as one would arrange flowers so you
could see such beauty in the dark, and you imply this is impulsive?" She
said sarcastically.
     He ran on the defensive. "No... no..."
     She went on, "Do you want this or not?"
     He was hesitantly silent and then he said, "Yes, please."
     From the front pocket of her men's trousers she pulled a blindfold
and covered his eyes as he stared into her downcast gaze. "Okay then, how
is this knot for starters? Is it too tight?"
     "No."
     She unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his trousers before removing
his coat. He tried to control the odd shake that had befallen him. It made
her smile as she smoothed the untidied hair that covered his chest and
abdomen. When he was completely undressed she made him undress her,
impaired as he was. He noticed with a strange acuity the softness of her
skin and the tautness beneath. He had seen her naked for days on end, but
never had she been so arousingly beautiful as she was in his mind's eye.
It did not drive him to passion; it drove him to want to possess her. Not
simply her body, but her entire entity. So great is the love between
masters and slaves that it defies mere mortal words, but in that one
moment, he knew better than any other the deep strength that drives the
dominant to the wild ends that their submissives demand. He sank to his
knees and kissed her solid thigh, searching for the flower of her sex that
made the most exquisite scent. He searched for it with his mouth and his
blind fumblings pleased her.
     When he was clearly about to suckle her mound, she stopped him and
said, "Master, you may not have me now. I have things I need to show you."
     She led him to her small sleeping room that was overpowered by the
large four-poster bed. The tethers to bind him were already secured on one
end of the bed, and as she positioned him to be bound, he gave no
resistance. Instead he fought to kiss her. He sought her lips with his as
he offered the sensitive left arm. She was extremely careful not to pull
it too tight, but the others she secured with great ardor.
     When she had completed the knots, she asked, "How do they feel?"
     "They feel fine. Now, please undo me so that I can ravish you the way
you intend me to."
     "I do not intend for you to fuck me. No, I am testing my knots. How
long do you think it will be before you can free yourself? When do you
need to go to work?"
     "That isn't funny."
     "Does it frighten you?"
     "No, it annoys me."
     "I know what that is like. I hate to be sexually frustrated. Don't
you? It is most annoying to have someone telling you how to react and how
to feel, what to do while trying to obtain that release, don't you think?
For example, if I were to thrash you with a cat-o-nine tails like this
one," (swish), "then, tell you to relax into the pain, how would that make
you feel?" She toyed with him now.
     "I don't own a cat-o-nine tails. That can't be a cat-o-nine tails. I
don't have one."
     "But I do. Wanna see?"
     She gave him a small flick to the air above his vulnerable stomach.
He winced and fought the bonds. It surprised him more than anything, and
suddenly, he felt very afraid. Not so much because he thought himself to
be unsafe, but because he did not know the extent to which she would go.
It was obvious to him that she would indeed give him a thrashing, to
assert her dominance and to inspire him to obey her. It was blatantly
obvious. Damn, what had he gotten himself into now?
     "Laura, if you are going to whip me with that thing you need to give
me a safeword."
     "No."
     "Why? Why not?" he stammered.
     She was slow to answer him and he sensed that she was preparing
herself for something. He felt her smooth cold hands on his cock, raising
it to its full length though slow stimulation. She began to gently suck
his cock and the contrast between her hot mouth and her cold hands made
him inhale sharply. One hand toyed with his asshole while the other
gripped the base of his sex, all the while she was sucking and sucking.
She manipulated her tongue over it and toyed with its head, then moved
down to gently caress his sensitive balls with her wet tongue. He suddenly
felt the urge to shoot his load, no warning, no preparation, just the
desire to erupt. No. This was too soon, and so he said, "Mistress, I
cannot hold myself. Help me to keep from coming as I know that it is too
soon to please you."
     She gently flicked him with the flogger and he jerked up into her
mouth as he flinched. She did it again, but this time she removed her
mouth so that he was thrusting into empty air. She watched him
momentarily, fucking against the image thrusting into the empty air.
Panting and sighing like a locomotive.
     "I want you to please me." She said after he had settled some. "I
want you to please me in a specific way that you have neglected in the
past."
     He fought to recall a method or exercise in sexual pleasure that he
had neglected, and found nothing. Beg for mercy... beg.
     "Mistress, I don't know how to please you. Please, tell me that I may
serve you in the way you most desire." He was breathless now and his whole
body heaved with his chest full of sighs. "I want something..." her voice
trailed off.
     "Say it and it will be yours, I swear it."
     "But it will frighten you to give it to me," she said calmly.
     "Mark me! I will take it for you! It would be my honor to serve you
in this way!"
     He was becoming frantic in his blind need and he struggled fiercely
testing her knots. So this is what it looks like to have a bound and
willing slave, she thought. This is what they see in me.
     Then she said, "You will give me anything?"
     "Yes, anything."
     "Even the thing you fear most?"
     "Yes. I will take the strikes you plan for me."
     "No, this pain is more exquisite; it will leave marks for years and
years."
     "What, then?"
     "I want sir Gus's phone number. I want you to take me to him. I want
him back."
     "I will do it in the morning... fuck me now."
     "Do you swear it?" she breathed the words into the soft flesh of his
cock.
     "Yes... I swear it."
     As she mounted him slowly, she said, "Well, then, it seems we have an
agreement." He did not hear her every word, so great was his distraction
with her sliding slowly down his pole. It was most intense. He could feel
the gold chain as it rested coolly on his balls. She was so tight and hot.
He fought himself to keep from thrusting violently up onto her and
erupting suddenly. Control. Discipline brings release. So hot and tight,
so wet and yielding. Her breasts dangled precariously in front of his
face; he could tell by the smell of them so close. He rooted for a nipple
and found one rather quickly offered to his mouth. He sucked it gratefully
as she began the slow and rhythmic rise and decent that he ached so
powerfully for. He felt her reaching and then the tension in his arms
released. She unbound his eyes. He first glimpsed her rising above him,
her pink aureolas so close... He reached for her hips to give him more
control of the rising and falling onto his turgid love rod.
     "Thank you, Mistress," he said, watching her lose herself to the
fucking. He knew intuitively that their respective roles had been restored
as she had unbound him. Back in command, he felt more comfortable and his
passion increased in its tension. His thrusts became more powerful and his
breathing quickened. "That is very good, Laura. This pleases me." She was
lost to him but he knew that she could hear him. "Oh, that is very good,
let me in deeper. Widen your legs. Oh, good. Can you come this way? Are
you comfortable?"
     Indeed his dick was deeply embedded inside her. It was long and thin
and reached up into her like no toy could. The thrusts would sometimes ram
the cervix causing her distraction. It wasn't often that slaves are
allowed to fuck their masters, so the mere activity was awkward. The
thrusting increased in speed now, and she felt the rising. The tension
increased in her fuck channel and in so doing caused her master still more
intense stimulation. Lost in wild abandon he fucked her with all his
strength, driving it up into her as high as he could lift her. Impaling
her with his cock was his only thought. It must go deeper. It must thrust
harder.
     "Laura, I am going to come now, I cannot hold myself anymore."
     "No... a little more," she encouraged. The boiling in his balls felt
more like the eruption of a volcano, so hot was the heat in his sex. Never
in his life had sex been so intense, and he lost in his effort to stave it
off. It rocketed out of him in hot gushes that she did indeed feel deep
within. He drove his pole hard and deep into her with great grunts and
thrusts, his whole body erupting into her. He came and came and came.
     When the violent quaking of his body had ceased he felt the unusual
calm that he only knew after a strong orgasm. But also, he felt a guilt.
She had not come. In his opinion, it was an insult for her to be left this
way. She had lifted herself from the instrument of her impalement. His
come seeped from her and she was curled in a fetal position, her face away
from his. He rose, saying, "I'll be right back." He went to the bathroom
and warmed a washcloth in warm water. He returned to the juncture of her
thighs and gently bathed the area where he had so viciously fucked her. He
was very tender and very gentle. Then as he rubbed the small of her back,
he said,"Is there anything more I can do to serve you, Mistress?"
     "Master, I don't want to be a mistress anymore," she said.
     "Okay. Are you tired? I could still make you come."
     She was silent and he wondered what she was thinking about. The
agreement? Yes, that is probably it. "Laura," he continued, "I will make
reservations to go see him tonight before I sleep." Her expression
brightened in the pale candlelight. He covered her and blew out all of the
little flames leaving her in absolute darkness like a womb. When he left
her she was deep asleep.


                              His Slave Screams
                            Written by subjukate

                  Chapter Seven of Seven: A Painful Reunion

     One week later, Laura had said her goodbyes to John and her friends
in the community. She arrived at Galveston Island with the two trunks full
of all of her earthly possessions. The cab driver dropped the trunks on
the mosaic tile in the foyer of the big old Victorian house. The stairway
hovered in the entry leading up to hidden rooms that overlooked the gulf.
She stood in the doorway after letting herself in and called out, "Hello?
Master Gus?"
     His home was silent except for the scuffling of feet. A side door
opened and a middle aged woman spoke. "Oh, hello there. We weren't
expecting you until tonight. Heavens! You are three hours early!" She
began to worry over her and guided her to the kitchen. "Oh well, no
matter, I'll get you something good to eat and we'll fix you right up."

     The next few hours were spent unpacking and getting ready for dinner.
Master Gus was working in the city. He would be home at dinner time.
Micah, his housekeeper, was more than pleased to have a guest to talk to
while she made dinner. She allowed Laura to help with a strange concoction
she called "gumbo."

     At six-thirty, Micah left to go to her two-room apartment up the
street. "Just call if you need anything," she said as the door closed
behind her. And then suddenly, Laura was alone in his house, in her
master's house. How could she ever have left him? She went up the stairs
to her room that adjoined his and retrieved the cat-o-nine tails from her
baggage. She went back down the stairs and into the dining room and placed
it on his plate. She sat and she waited. Seven o'clock. Seven-thirty.
     At eight o'clock, the garage door began to open automatically. It
began to worry her and she felt anxious. His car pulled into the garage
and he came in through the side door. He was much better looking than she
had remembered, and he looked so surprised to see her. She dropped her
gaze so as to avoid looking him in the eye. He dropped his briefcase onto
the floor beside the couch. He slipped off his jacket and loosened his
tie. He did not speak to her, but she wanted to throw herself into him.
Surely he was happy to see her? Apparently not.
     "Master?" Her voice cracked the silence between them.
     "Bring my dinner and follow me," he said as he took the flogger from
the table. She took his cup and plate and followed him up the darkened
staircase to their rooms. She was really anxious now. This was not what
she had expected. At the top of the stairs he commanded her to strip and
leave her clothes at the top of the stairs so that Micah could find them
in the morning. She handed him the cup and plate and as he ate he watched
her undress. She made a conscious effort not to be provocative, but she
found it difficult in her self-consciousness. With all the courage she
could muster she said, "I am sorry that I ran away."
     He looked up from his dinner and said, "Oh? Really? Tell me why."
     This caught her off guard and she scrambled for an answer, and she
found none. Oh, no.
     "I am sorry because... because..." she stammered.
     "Yes? Don't dawdle. What?"
     "I am sorry because I was unhappy without you, and I made you unhappy
without me."
     "Ah! That is so true!"
     "Master, I would rather live with you in your anger than live without
you at all."
     "Is that so?" he said coldly. "So tell me this: What punishment do
you feel is befitting a slave who runs from her master?"
     "Two years without him?"
     Her response caught him off guard; he had not expected that answer.
"You think that two years separated from me is enough punishment?"
     "Yes sir. I did hard time with Lord John's housekeeping."
     He tried to stifle his smile and could not. It erupted across his
face and he could not stop it. It was so very difficult being angry with
her. "Did he figure out your thing for pain?"
     "No."
     "I see you bear the mistress's ring. Did you finally muster the
ability to dominate?"
     "Yes. I did it for you. I did it so I could find you again."
     "Really, why?"
     "Because I love you."
     "Oh."
     His manner softened and he made himself vulnerable and placed his
plate beside his cup on the floor. "I am still angry. I will have to
punish you. I simply cannot let this slip. To tell the truth, I have been
planning this since you left, because I knew you would come back. This
will hurt you. It is unavoidable, but it will please me. Will you do it
because it pleases me?"
     "I will," she said with conviction.
     "Give me your hands." She held them out and he bound them with a red
silk scarf. "Now, come with me." He held her bound wrists and took her to
his room. He had placed a platform beneath a hook sunk into a beam in the
ceiling. He helped her up to the hook and hung her by the scarf facing a
way from him. She dangled there for a moment, but did not cry out. He
moved the platform beneath her and she supported her weight on her tip
toes. He placed the wiffle ball gag in her mouth, since her nose got
stuffy when she cried. "If it is more than you can bear you are to raise
your left foot. Do that for me now."
     She raised her foot and put it back down again. "Good. John tells me
that you have not come in over six weeks. He says that you sacrificed
yourself for his pleasure when you dommed him last. It has been quite some
time for me as well, so try to save your strength. We will be at this for
a while." With that he began to lay into her soft pale flesh with his
cat-o-nine tails. He reddened her back and warmed her backside until she
began to lose her footing. "Spread your legs for me." She complied. He
eased his middle finger in between the lips of her labia. She squirmed a
bit against him. "No. No. I know that this position is awkward, and I will
release you from it soon, but first you must be punished to my
satisfaction. You are wet finally. This is very good." He laid down his
cat-o-nine tails and took up his favorite crop. He made a few strategic
welts on her backside. Her strained skin bled in some places and she was
clearly to the point of tears, but still she did not cry. He distressed
her vaginal lips by placing weights on the chain that pierced her there;
then he placed nipple clamps with very small weights on her nipples. This
brought her to begging. It was plain that she was begging to be released,
but still she did not raise her leg. He made a few more marks on her back,
then cut the scarf that held her up. The sudden release of pressure to the
joints in her shoulders caused her entire back to spasm and the cries were
muffled by the gag in her mouth. He removed it so that he could listen to
her speak. But initially she did not say anything.
     He laid her down in his bed. Her skin was hot to the touch and he
would not let her lay on her back until after he had salved her back. She
argued with him in the beginning saying that he was being cold and
indifferent,.which was actually true, but after she pointed it out his
heart softened again. Twice she rose to leave and sleep in her bed and
twice he forced her back down. This also pleased him, and he began to feel
the old stirring. Eventually he said, "I want to taste you."
     She was tired from the journey and shaky from the whipping. Her face
carried the strain of tension and pain. The weighted nipple clamps caused
her to move very slowly and he had to encourage her to comply with his
wishes by kneeling between her opened legs and talking to her.
     "I know how tired you are and I will let you sleep after this is
done. Can you open up a little more? Oh, good. I'm going to remove these
weights first and then the nipple clamps."
     She sat up in the bed and moved toward the door. Not the nipple
clamps, she hates those. He held her shoulders and reminded her of the the
untold pleasures if only she would be still. He held her to his chest and
restrained her with one arm across her upper body while removing the first
clamp. She did not scream as he had anticipated but she did squeal. The
second clamp took a greater toll as the skin had broken. This time she did
scream. The pain with the nipple distracted her enough so that when he
removed the other weights she did not seem to feel it as completely. Then
with deliberate strokes, he began a simple rhythmic movement of his hand
around her clitoris speaking tenderly to her. "Open for me. Open now. This
is good. You are a good girl. You came back and will be rewarded. Yes.
Rest your head here on my shoulder. Oh, your cunt is so wet. Your sex is
so hot. Oh, how I have wanted to fuck you for so long. Let me fuck you,
Laura."
     Her head was so heavy. Her body seemed distant. His words were so far
away. His fingers were penetrating her sex with long, sweeping strokes.
She began to raise herself to meet his thrusts. His thumb would gently
touch her pearl as his fingers slipped inside. "Let me fuck you,
darling..."
     He moved her onto her back again and began to suck the sweet juices
that she made for him from herself. Laura's inhibitions melted suddenly
and she groaned as he sucked her. He guided his longest finger up inside
her and pressed carefully on her G-spot. He sucked her clitoris as he
stroked her there causing her to writhe and thrash. "Laura, my beloved, I
have missed you so much."
     "Master, I cannot bear it. Please fuck me."
     Her nipples had hardened to impossible points. She had thrown her
head back into the pillows and she widened her legs in a strange sexual
beacon. He moved above her and stared down into her face as he slipped the
his cock into her. Laura's cunt sucked at him, milking the jizz from him.
He gave a tentative thrust to see how she would react, bearing in mind the
new cuts on her back and the ache in her nipples. She was practically
frantic to come, but he tried to slow her.
     "No. Be still. You have gone far enough. I can do this; I can bring
this to you without any work on your part. Relax for me now. Let me reward
you."
     "Master, it is so close to me. I am so close to coming, yet I can't.
Please help me." she sounded frightened and frustrated as if she had never
had it happen to her before.
     He gave another half-thrust into her and withdrew again watching the
reaction on her face. She had closed her eyes and brought her arms up in a
submissive pose that resembled being bound. She worked her hips and cunt
muscles, heightening it for him. He fought to restrain himself. She would
come first even if it meant that he did not come at all. "Sweetheart," he
said breathlessly, "please do as I say. Please relax for me. You are too
tense and you will not come like this. Breathe. Your breathing has become
erratic and if it goes on much longer I will stop to protect you from
damage. Breathe."
     She took long breaths with him and as she did the tension left her.
The tautness in her cunt smoothed and Gus could begin the fucking without
concern for hurting her. He drove his spike into her, causing her to gasp,
and then withdrew. He quickened his tempo in her window of peace, speaking
soothing phrases to comfort her.
     "Easy now. It will come to you. Don't reach. Reach to me; don't reach
to it."
     "Master, please help me." Now she was frantic and tired. Gus began to
fear that she would not come. But he would have to make her. His own
orgasm was beginning to build with a surprising ferocity. He knew that it
would overwhelm him suddenly and he tried not to succumb to it so quickly.
He could feel the rumbling deep inside his balls and he could feel the
eruption beginning to blast into her waiting entry. "Laura, I'm right here
and I am going to come soon. I'm coming soon." He took a swollen nipple
into his mouth and gently sucked it.
     The sensation was both painful and erotic. Laura responded well with
a renewed thrust of her loins into him. "Master," she said, "Oh, God, this
is so good... more... more." He plowed into her with no restraint. The
momentum of his fucking lifted her from the bed with the very plunge. Her
cries were changing; he knew that she would come when he did, so he let
his torrent flood her. The jizz filled her aching channel as he pounded
her as hard as he could. The pounding began a chain reaction that forced
her into orgasm. "Master, oh, sir..." were her only words as it crashed
around her. Her cunt milked the come from his hardened fuck pole and he
fucked her furiously with great grunts. He blasted and erupted several
times until he fell limp on top of her. He could not move.
     He could not speak. There was a long silence between them and then he
pulled himself from her and fell asleep at her side. They slept entwined
in the still of the big house.
     The following morning he bathed her and salved her once more. Sir Gus
and Laura telephoned Lord John to tell him that all was well.