First hard session.

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First hard session.
The room contains a very large rectangular wooden table. You can easily seat 16 people around it. I have prepared the table ready for its subject. There is a mirrored ceiling above it and recessed lighting around the mirror all on a dimmer circuit. The table is covered with a rough woollen blanket. There are ropes coming up at the corners which are coiled in loops on the blanket awaiting the wrists and ankles of the subject soon to be bound to them. The other furniture in the room is a couple of dining chairs, a comfortable leather arm chair, a cabinet and refrigerator. The lighting is low.

Satisfied that the room is ready I go and get my subject for this evening’s session. She is a most willing submissive eager to explore her boundaries. I have been mostly gentle with her so far building up her confidence to take discomfort and pain. Today we will be going a lot further. Today she will be tested to see where I can take her in the future.

She is waiting in a bedroom just down the corridor where she has changed into a bra, panties and a plain white slip dress. When I enter she is sitting on the bed. She smiles apprehensively when I enter. I smile back to reassure her.

“Well it’s time. Are you going through with this? Now is the time to say no if you don’t want this.” I ask her.

“Yes. I do want to do this. You’ve asked me so many times already. Don’t you believe I want this?”

“I ask you for the answer and also so you know that you want to go through with this. There is no safe word tonight, you know that too. I won’t stop unless I am absolutely sure you’ve had enough. Now is the time to back out. Once you’re secured you will be mine to do exactly as I please with. You will be my willing slave, my slut and whore to do with as I like.”

Her eyes widen as I speak, the words scaring and exciting her. She breaths more quickly and fidgets, her hands crossed in her lap. For a tiny fraction of a second I wonder if I have overdone it; but no.

“Yes. I do want this. I want you to show me what I can take.” She replies.

Looking down and in a small trembling voice she says “I want you to own me. Please.”

It is the final admission for her, she has confessed her desire and taken the final step to admitting that pleasure is not the only goal of her being here. I let her sit and think about what she has just said. After a few moments she raises her head and looks me in the eye wondering why I have fallen silent. She is still frightened but she has controlled her fear. I offer my hand, she takes it and we walk to the room with the table.

We enter the room. I fetch a chair so she can stand on it and then up onto the table. She climbs the impromptu stairs and stands looking down at me. I return the chair to the corner.

“Lie down please and place your wrists and ankles on the ropes.”

She does as I ask smoothing her dress out and spreading her arms and legs to the corners of the table. I start by binding her right wrist. She watches intently as I loop the rough hessian rope around and around her wrist and then tie it off. Next her left wrist. Her lips are dry and she is breathing quite hard. I can see her nipples rising under her thin bra and dress. Next her ankles. Securing her vulnerability. She is mine now. Try as she might she could never get free. She is my willing prisoner.

I go to the cabinet and select a length of rope, I loop it and move around behind her head. Doubling the loop I slip a noose around her neck. She is surprised I have never done this before. I tie the loop off under the table she can move her head a little but too much starts to choke her, so she keeps still. I move around the ropes securing her and pull them tighter around toggles under the table top. She isn’t stretched but she can hardly move. I move around the table and sit on it looking down at her. I smooth the cloth of her dress down over her breasts, tummy and pubis.

“When you contracted to me you agreed that I have control of your sexuality, pain and pleasure. Today I am going to claim that part of the contract to the full. I am going to own you. I am going to inflict more pain on you than I have ever done before. I am going to tease you. I am going to make you plead for more. I am going to make you plead for relief. I am going to make you plead for an orgasm. But most of all I am going to make you wish it will never stop.”

She goes to say something but I place my finger on her lips.

“No. I know what I am going to do to you and you have no say in the matter. There is no safe word. You are mine to do with as I please. So words are pointless.”

I run my hand down her front and cup her sex through the slip she is wearing. She is hot and ready. I go to the cabinet and take out a 12 tail flogger. Used to full effect this will remove skin, it is only a toy when used as such, this is not a shredded suede dish cloth but hard square-cut heavy rawhide.

I stand at her side and virtually just drop the heavy leather straps across her breasts. She gasps as much in shock as at the mild discomfort. I watch her as she watches me. Again I bring the flogger down across her. This time a little harder and across her stomach. Slowly I work down her body judging the force by her reaction. I strike harder; she looks away as the discomfort takes all of her concentration. I’m still only playing with her. On her bare skin this would be stinging. She really doesn’t know she’s been born yet. But I take my time; it’s all new to her and I don’t want to lose my jewel as a pain slut, she is far too precious for that to happen; she will never feel the full bite of this tool, but she will soon learn to fear it.

I have worked around her sex being careful not to strike her there just yet. Under her dress her skin will be reddening and the endorphins and adrenaline will be flowing. I work down the fronts of her thighs, a little harder now, as they aren’t quite so sensitive. The sound it starting to take on the quality of a whip as the air starts to rattle through the tails. Slowly, inexorably, I work over her entire body until she is aware of every square centimetre of skin and that I control her completely. She looks up at the mirror watching me work my way around her. I take my time, I have all day. This is not a quick playtime. This is an orgy of sensuality to be played out at my leisure and I will have my pound of flesh.

I stop and lay the flogger across her breasts. I sit on the table and look down at her. Her face is flushed but she is happy she has taken what I have done with hardly a whimper. I place my hand on her ankle and start to slowly run it up the inside of her leg. I feel her skin warm and soft under my fingers as I trace a route to her sex. Slowly I show her that she can do nothing to stop me. Her body is mine to do with as I please. She tries to raise her head to watch what I am doing directly but the noose tightens and her head drops back onto the blanket. She watches the reflection as my hand invades further up her clothing, powerless and desireless to stop me. I reach the insides of her sweet and tender thighs. I circle my fingers, teasing her flesh, making her concentrate on the one point of touch. I move further and reach the crotch of her knickers. With the back of a couple of fingers I barely caress the thin piece of cloth covering her sex. It is damp and hot. She is so ready for this.

I take the flogger off of her chest and lay it so the tails cover her face forcing her to close her eyes. I know she can smell the rawhide and feel its texture on her lips and eyelids. I go to the cabinet and get a pair of scissors. I get on the table and kneel between her legs and nip the hem of the slip. I take the material and tear it slowly up the front until it reaches the hem by her neck. The sound is rich and evocative of exposure. She knows she is open now; vulnerable to my gaze. I cut the hem by her neck and the shoulder straps and fold the cloth back like an opened skin. I take the flogger off her face. She looks up at the mirror and sees herself opened up. I snip the straps of her bra and then the fabric between the cups. Gravity alone now holds the cloth in place. I cut the cloth of her knickers on the left and right side. Again only the feather light weight of the material holds it in place.

Getting off the table I take hold of the slip’s material and cut it away in pieces, tearing it as I go so only that directly under her is still intact. I take the remains of her bra and knickers off and drag the remains of the slip out from under her. The rough wool of the blanket now makes contact with her soft and sensitive flesh. Even this tiny roughness excites her now, becoming an enveloping sensation. Now naked she lies still. I take the flogger and lay the lashes over her breasts. The heavy woven leather handle just barely touches her pubis, but just enough for her to be aware of its presence. I turn the lights down to a very low level.

“Think about what I am going to do next.” I say.

With that last comment I leave and go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, leaving her mind to play tricks on her. Leaving her to tease and torture herself with expectation. I switch on the baby monitor so I can hear her. I boil the kettle and warm the pot for some Earl Grey. I sit and read the paper and watch the clock. 20 minutes pass before I go back to her.

I enter and look at my prize spread out before me. She is far away having seen only her naked body spread eagled across the table with the flogger laid over her and the rough blanket under her. Her mind has been wandering. Turning the lights up a little I move between her legs and lift the handle of the flogger, brushing her sex as I do so; it is hot and runny. The texture is exquisite she waxed a few days ago and she is as smooth as silk. Her juice makes her slippery. Her breathing is faster. I drag the flogger down her body pulling the tails over her sex.

I drop the tails onto her cunt. She flinches knowing now that this is just the lightest possible touch. Again and slightly harder I drop the flogger. Again and slightly harder. Gradually I build up the height but carefully make sure the lashes don’t pull across her flesh when they land. They sting but don’t cut; not yet. She is arching at every stroke now; her pussy is as pink on the outside as it is on the inside. But her clitty is safe as long as I don’t start the cutting strokes. Tucked up inside it’s safe for the moment; now for it. I pull the flogger across as it comes down the lashes find their way inside her pussy lips and she shouts in surprise as the stinging rawhide finds its tender mark. Her head comes up but the noose holds her, she drops back.

“No please! That hurt lots!” she shouts.

My answer is a second cutting stroke. She yells and bucks as the stroke lands. She is panting and heading to shock. One last time I bring to flogger down. You can almost count the 36 welts across her sex, light red stripes on a pale pink background. I make a show of putting the flogger back in the cabinet so she can relax and regain her composure.

I sit on the table next to her looking into her eyes. She is numb with the pain of the last three strokes. I run my hands over her sweat dampened skin, over her breasts and tummy down to her tender hot little cunny. With no foreplay I push a single finger into her. It slips into hot melting butter, no resistance at all. I add a second finger to the first. She is wet enough for a third but not this beauty, I will not spoil her. We look at each other as I take control of her pleasure now. Inside her I find that smooth little patch and her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open and a guttural noise spews forth from the primeval lust inside her. Here is release, here is desire and here is lust writ large within her body. Nothing now between her and oblivion. Her hips move trying to force more pressure onto her Golden Trigger. I let her, I help her on and just as she starts to breath as I know she does when the ending is close; my fingers come out. I raise them to my lips, the slick juice of her cunt coats them. The smell invades my mind; I lick her off of me, the taste of her intoxicating. She looks at me flushed and frustrated unable to concentrate on what just happened. Her breath flows hard and deep willing herself back to some kind of sense.

The ropes hold her. She is still imprisoned. I check her hands and feet, they are nice and warm. I run my fingers up her instep and the toes curl reflexively and she giggles.

This time I bring a fine white satin sheet from the cabinet. Unfolding it I float it over her and let it settle as it will. I then square it up and gently draw it down so her face is uncovered. The thin smooth material flows over her front settling across her like a second skin. In the mirror she appears almost angelic except for the ever present reminder of the loose rope around her neck. I fetch a bowl full of large wet ice cubes from the refrigerator. I start between her collar bones and place one every couple of inches down her front. The satin stops them sliding about but does nothing to stop the cold biting into her. Between her breasts the line builds towards her sex. I leave the last one in the line on her pubis.

She is hot and slowly the ice cubes start to melt, the cold water starts to spread through the cloth sticking it to her skin in expanding patches. I turn the air conditioning down and cold air starts to fill the room. Sitting cross legged on the table beside her I take an ice cube and start touching it gently on her breasts. Touch and move place by place I cover her breasts with cold damp patches. Her nipples are as hard as you like, I brush them with the cube. The material holds the cold as I lift the cube. She watches me and I her as I do this, she is colder now, the flush gone from her cheeks the room is chilly, verging on cold but still the air con continues its work. I move the cubes down her front moving them to fresh sensitive flesh. The bowl of cubes is half full of almost freezing water. I dribble it across her belly, she breathes in at the shock of the cold. I trail the water across her chest, arms and legs. Soon the satin sheet once so delicate and sensual is a freezing second skin gripping her from head to toe. She bites her lips as her body heat is drained from her. She breathes harder as her body fights to keep warm. She starts to shiver slightly. I leave her to the sensation for just a few minutes but it will seem a lot longer to her. She is shivering fiercely now, her breathing rasping and jagged. Taking the sheet by the four corners I scoop up the remains of the cubes off of her and deposit the sheet in a bin under the table. Her skin is clammy and covered in goose bumps raised by the cold air drying the last sheen of the water off of her.

Setting the air con to keep the temperature where it is I fetch the next sensation from the cabinet. Standing over her I drip the molten wax from the candle it nips at her cold flesh, the heat in the wax amplified by the relative temperature of her skin. Each drop a little sting, a little point of random sensation at odds with the chill in the room. Her hairless pussy is covered; back and forth I go warming her sex concentrating her mind on her sex. Like a hot gloved hand I build up the layer there. In the cold room only her sex is hot, exactly as it should be. The sensation starts to consume her. Her skin starts to flush; reddening. First the traces of the welts from the flogger return across her lower belly and thighs; pink tram lines criss-crossing the centre of her.

I sit beside her again. I look down and smile at her and from long way away she smiles back. Lost somewhere in herself she fights to hang onto reality, the different sensations battle for supremacy to control her consciousness. Now I will bring her to climax. I will strip her of her will to be rational; her will to be sane. Now I will take her to orgasm and only orgasm; in a while, nothing, absolutely nothing will matter to her but my fingers and finally my voice.

I stroke her thigh as I did before, working my way to her pussy. I work the wax cast on her pussy around and around slowly separating it from her skin and stimulating her as yet untouched clitty. She pulls on the ropes constraining her, fighting to hold off my tender assault, she knows the value of patience; I have taught her well. She watches her reflection, open and totally at my tender mercy. The wax comes free and I discard it, it has done its job. Her pink flesh is supremely sensitive now, my merest touch is an agony of sensation. Puffy and tender her pussy lips are as soft as marsh mallow pillows drenched in honey; through them I can feel the little rod of her clitty buried inside, protected in its warm slippery little sheath. Using the lightest touch I squeeze her clitty through her pussy lips. She stills her struggles as her desire to cum begins to take hold. Tenderly I torture her with her own desire. She is mine and mine alone now, she knows it, I know it. I will satisfy her lust, her need to go to that special place of surrender deep inside her, to release her need to cum.

Rhythm is all. Up and down I move my fingers, still outside her pussy, but within, their pressure and friction become the focus of her world. The rough cloth she lies on, the ropes gripping her limbs and neck fade into a grey mist of ignored sensation. Focus comes, her womanhood dominates her and everything about her washes away until just the female remains, the ultimate sexuality and sensuality consumes her driving her mind away. Eyes shut, breath ragged and staccato she is tense as a bow string and I’m doing virtually nothing to stimulate her. One wrong touch and she will fall to her climax too soon; way too soon.

“You must ask to cum. Remember that. You must ask or I may release you from your contract and you will never come here again. Do you understand?” I ask.

She gathers enough of herself together to reply.

“Yes. I will ask to cum.” She replies.

“What will you do if I say no?”

She looks at me as she forces the words out. “I will not cum.”

With this I bring two fingers together and push them into the top of her labia scissoring her clit. The sudden invasion makes her cry out; an alien voice not normally heard a primal guttural sound of expression. I start to move her clitty hood back and forth over its little hard occupant. Her hips start to rise attempting to create pressure where there is none. Gone are any thoughts of restraint now she wants to cum and treasure the release from my tormenting fingers. I lift my hand; she follows to an impossible degree, every muscle in her body lifting her sex to the touch of my fingers. She can’t hold the arch and drops back unsatisfied to the table breathing hard the noose around her neck a psychological restraint more that a real one. Panting she looks at me with desperation in her eyes.

“Do you want me to stop. We can you know.” I tease her but she bites nonetheless.

“No. Please don’t stop, please no don’t, don’t stop please no.” An incoherent babble falls from her mouth.

Even with the room this cold her body is coated with a thin film of sweat. The world has gone as I sit there next to her. She is mine, mind, body and soul. I will serve her; I will grant her wish to reach that special place. It could be no other way with my jewel at my finger tips, her pleasure my joy and fulfilment. My heart ponds in my chest as I look at her utterly given over to me, willingly and completely.

I lay my hand on her thigh and start to move towards the core of her. With one finger tip I tease her open. Inside I move my finger around opening her soaking juice filled cunny up. Around in a firm circle I penetrate her gradually. She slips away again off towards nirvana given over just to my touch and the sensation of penetration. I add a second finger and find the edge of her golden trigger and start to drag the flesh around it. She whimpers as I do this, breath rapid, she squeaks like a strange little toy in a way that I have come to recognise as the fact that she is holding back her orgasm building up the tension as much as she can. Never touching her golden trigger I tease her closer and closer to the edge. Her mouth clamped shut by her teeth as she bites her lips craving the sensation to hold back her little death for a little longer.

“Please can I cum Sir?” She asks in the form of our play.

“Please may I cum?”

“No. We have a while to go yet.”

I take my fingers out and grip her clit between my thumb and forefinger. She holds her breath knowing what is to come. I apply a slowly increasing pressure to that most sensitive part. Gradually the pressure becomes discomfort and then mild pain as I hold her counting slowly to 30 under my breath I take her away from the edge of climax. She shakes her head and grimaces at the frustration. I flick her clit hard just once. Every muscle in her tenses at the shock and she exhales sharply at the intense sensation. I soothe her pussy and take possession of her golden trigger again, but this time I do not tease but massage her right where she cannot escape.

I lay down next to her leaning on my elbow with my fingers inside her just pressing and releasing her golden trigger. She feels my breath on her face and opens her eyes and looks up at me; they are bottomless pools pleading for release.

In a whisper barely heard, more read from her lips, she says “Make me cum…. Please make me cum.”

I hold her on the edge of orgasm. Gently pushing and probing her with my fingers. Her eyes are shut as she fights to hold off the orgasm. I stop moving my fingers inside her

I whisper “Cum for me now.”

The stimulation gone her mind is released to drop into oblivion. She exhales and concentrates on her desire for release and with a gasp she falls and explodes into orgasm. Her cunny clenches and expels my fingers. She bucks and grunts in the restraint of the ropes, again and again she cums, released she falls back and gasps for air. Virtually u*********s she subsides and lies there panting and drenched with sweat.

I give her a little time to recover and turn up the air con to a more acceptable level to be naked in. I take off the noose and support her head as I give her a drink from the fridge then pop a small pillow under her head. She looks at me quizzically and moves her hands.

“Well aren’t you going to untie me then?”She asks.

My answer is to look at my watch, frown and drop a bag of pegs and ball of string onto her tummy.

“We have a while to go yet. I’d say at least another five hours……”

The expression on her face was a picture of shock!

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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