Jenny's Journey Ch. 02

I am standing in James's living room, rainwater dripping from my hair and my once-sophisticated, now disheveled black dress, all over the dark hardwood floor in this chic, sparse room. James led me here on my hands and knees, and barked, "stand up" before leaving the room. Despite the heat from a wall-mounted fireplace behind me, I am shivering.

My confession of submission came tumbling out of me on James's doorstep, and the release had been almost euphoric, giving me a jolt of confidence and certainty. But now, in this room by myself, that certainty has drained away, and I'm wringing my hands and smoothing my dress and stealing glances at the door. I have the feeling that James knows this, and that he has left me in this room to see if I will bolt again. I shift uneasily from one foot to another, as if I can't find my balance in these new surroundings, but I don't leave. I wait.

James returns after what must be only five minutes or so, carrying a towel which he throws my way before settling himself on the leather sofa in front of me, right arm slung languidly along the back of the sofa, grinning up at me with that same hard calculation playing behind his dark eyes. I towel off my hair, uncomfortable under his scrutiny, desperate for him to speak and interrupt the pounding silence.

Finally, he does. "You've never had a Master before." He says it as a statement, but I confirm his suspicions by nodding my head. He leaks forward, elbows on his knees, and my heart leaps to my throat. "When I ask you a question," he says quietly, "I expect you to answer 'yes Sir,' or 'yes Master.' Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," I say swiftly, and my body reacts to my own words as if they are his caress - a tingling sensation spreads through my wet pussy, and the flesh of my face and chest flushes scarlet, from embarrassment and arousal.

"This is all very new to you, and I am patient...to a point." He leans back again, as comfortable as I am uneasy. "You will always refer to me as Master or Sir. You will do what I say, without hesitation or complaint, or there will be consequences. You will not cum unless I give you explicit permission. Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir," I say, silently relishing the words again. I'm sure he hears the hunger in my voice.

He gets up, takes the towel from my hands, and stands directly in front of me, close enough that I imagine I can feel the heat from his body on my damp, prickling skin. He reaches towards my face, and though I wince a little in anticipation, he takes my chin tenderly in his hand and tilts it up so he can look intently into my eyes. "I take the responsibility of being a Master very seriously. I'll never do anything that will leave a permanent mark, or that I think pushes you too far beyond your limits." My stomach drops at the mention of leaving a mark...my mind races with the many ways he can hurt me without scarring me. "But I want you to leave your comfort zone. I want you to push yourself. So if things ever get too intense, I'm going to give you a word you can always say to make me stop immediately. Do you remember the name of the pub where we met?"

"Cooper's," I say.

"Good. Any time I hear you say 'Cooper's,' I'll stop what I'm doing without any questions. I'll never be angry with you for using your safe word. But once you use it, we'll be done for the night. So if you want to keep going, I want you to try to push yourself a little. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," I say.

"Good." James lets go of my chin, and all at once the tenderness is gone, and the sharp edge is back in his voice. "Now. Take off that wet dress."

My hands shake so badly that I have trouble locating my zipper. I am embarrassed: by the idea of stripping for this near stranger; by the need I somehow feel to do so; by my inability to do it. Then James puts a hand on top of mine - firm, but gentle, guiding me to the zipper, following my hand as I pull it down. I feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude towards him: for the strength that I long for, but the gentleness I need to guide me here, at this terrifying first step. My trembling subsides, and my dress falls to the floor. James leads me by the hand to step out the wet pool of material on the floor, then stands back, admiring the gentle curves of my breasts and hips, still hidden behind black lace panties and bra.

"Beautiful," he says softly.

I smile shyly, unable to meet his eye. "Thank you, Master."

"How does it feel to be almost naked in front of me?"

"I—" I consider this. "I feel...self conscious. Scared."

"That's because you're still thinking of your body as your own." He moves behind me, and I feel his warm hands grasp my shoulders, pulling them back so that my posture becomes more erect, my head faces forward and my breasts jut out provocatively in front of me. His fingers trail gently down my arms. "And that's not so anymore. Your body belongs to me." His fingers encircle my wrists and he pulls them behind me just a little roughness, closing each of my hands around the opposite elbow. "To do with what I please, to offer pain and pleasure as I please, to use for my own enjoyment." Deftly, he grabs me around the waist and kicks my legs apart. At first I lose balance, feel myself supported in his strong arms, then I regain my equilibrium and move my far apart, readjusting my arms and shoulders as well. He lets go of me and circles me to inspect his handiwork. Despite the thin layers of fabric concealing my pussy and breasts, I feel on display for him, presenting my body for his approval, and I am surprised by the intensity of the ache I feel deep within me, the wetness that immediately seems to soak through my panties. He stops circling me and stands close to my side, while I instinctively keep my eyes trained forward. "How do you feel now?" whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers through me.

"Horny," I answer. Then, as an afterthought: "Sir."

"Mmmm. Good girl." He nips at my earlobe, and I feel my knees wobble beneath me. "This is position one. Now one your knees for position two. And take off that bra and those wet little panties while you're at it, slut."

I do as he asks eagerly, craving his touch so badly that it is all I can do not to beg him to put his hand on my throbbing, dripping pussy. He wordlessly guides me into the second position: knees apart, hands and cheek on the floor in front of me, back arched so that my ass is raised in the air, my pussy and asshole on display. My breath is ragged as I silently wait in this R-rated yoga pose. He leaves me there for at least two minutes before I feel the sting of his hand meeting my ass. I gasp and jolt my head up, but he places a hand firmly on my back, and I quickly return to position.

"That was for leaving earlier without permission. Let's see if we can get that ass nice and red."

Each crack resonates through the house, and soon I am sweating, losing count of how many times he has spanked me - 30? 50? The painful heat spreads from my ass to ignite a fire in my pussy, and to my utter amazement I find myself raising my ass to meet his hand, craving the next blow, almost moaning as my raw nipples rub against the hard floor. James laughs derisively.

"It seems like I might have a genuine pain slut on my hands," he says, pausing to give me a moment to catch my breath. "I think that's enough to start. Now, what do you say?"

My mind feels foggy, like I'm in a dream. "I...I don't know."

James hand is on my burning ass, tenderly caressing the it, his finger tips edging closer and closer to my puffy pussy lips. "Say, 'Thank you for punishing me, Master.'"

"Thank you for—" his fingers flick across my pussy lips, and I almost scream out "—for punishing me, Master!"

"Oh, you are ready, aren't you," James says, and I can hear the delight in his voice. "Spread that juicy pussy apart for me, slut. I want a good look."

I reach back and pull apart my ass cheeks and pussy lips, the ache inside of me increasing as I do, my body longing to be filled up, to be allowed to cum. I can hear James moving around behind me, and then suddenly I feel his hot breath on my wide open pussy, and I groan loudly. "What do you want, my pet?" he whispers, and each word dances across my flesh and makes me writhe with desire.

"I want you to...lick me," I say breathlessly. Even in this position, I somehow can't find the right words, as if the modesty of my language remains intact even as I spread my cheeks for this stranger.

"Not good enough," he breathes.

"I want you to...lick my...pussy."

"And?"

"And...make me cum."

"How?"

I take a deep breath, my desperation growing. "Sir, I want you to lick my wet cunt...to slide your tongue over my clit over and over until I'm almost there...to rub my nipples and pull my hair...and then to ram your thick cock into my tight little hole, and to pound me until I cum."

"I see," he says, laughing as my face burns with humiliation. A long pause. "No," he says finally, withdrawing from me so that I am left, spread and empty, aching for him and lost. I whimper. "No, I don't think I will. Sit up, pet. Come here." I scramble onto my knees, trembling and dizzy from desire and disappointment, and follow him to the sofa, where he sits and I settle at his feet. He studies me with those piercing eyes of his and I feel even more exposed than I did before, somehow. He pushes my knees wide apart with his feet, and I clasp my hands behind my back before he tells me to, eager to please. He smirks. "Good girl. You're learning." He pauses. "Why don't you think I let you cum just now."

"H-have I done something wrong, Sir?" I realize with some discomfort that I dread the idea of displeasing him.

"No. In fact, you've done better than I thought you might this first time." He runs his thumbs over my painfully hard nipples, then pinches them just enough to make me gasp. Our eyes lock. "I didn't let you cum because I own you." He pinches harder, until I let out a soft whimper. "And no matter what you ask me for, how much you beg, I decide what happens to your body." He twists them abruptly, and a shock of pain runs through my body. My hands involuntarily fly forward as if to stop him, but I catch myself in time, and force them back into position behind my back. "Good girl," he growls, twisting harder and harder until I worry I can't take anymore, and tears spring to my eyes. But before I break, he lets go, and my shoulders slump forward, relieved by the release but also missing his touch.

He leans back on the sofa, unbuckling his belt. "I'm going to give you something better than an orgasm," he says as his hard, thick cock springs out of his pants. "I'm going to let you suck my cock." When I don't respond immediately, he reaches out and grabs a clump of my still-damp hair, pulling me closer to his throbbing dick. "What do you say?"

"Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Master," I sputter. I reach for his cock, but James slaps my face lightly and I freeze.

"No," he says as if he is chastising an errant puppy. "You don't get to use your hands."

I clasp my elbows behind my back again, and maneuver my mouth over the twitching head of his cock. He lets me begin gently, his fist still wrapped around my hair, guiding my head up and down as he relaxes back on the sofa. I hear him moan, and it thrills me to know that I am pleasuring him. He moves my head faster, pushing his cock deeper and deeper so that I start to gag, but he seems to know exactly how much I can handle, never pushing himself so deep that I lose my breath and start to panic. Minutes pass, and I can tell from his deep moans that he is getting close. I wonder if he'll make me swallow his cum, and again marvel at the fact that the idea of it thrills me. I'm so wet now that I'm sure a puddle has formed beneath my pussy on his hardwood floor, and when he unexpectedly grazes my juicy clit with the toe of his shoe, I moan so loudly around his cock that it sends him over the edge. He pulls out of my mouth just in time, painting my breasts with his thick, hot cum, as I suck in air and revel in the ecstasy written across his face.

As he recovers, he studies me, and I imagine what he sees: me naked, covered in cum, panting and glistening from heat and desire, my hips rocking involuntarily, humping the air in the hopes that he will finally touch me. He smiles sadistically at me. "Look at you. You would do anything to cum, wouldn't you?"

"Y-yes Sir," I say. But I'm not sure that's true. What does he have in mind?

Abruptly, he leaves the room, and I am where he has left me, feeling used and sore and horny. My heart races as I wait for him, wondering what he's doing in the other room, and when he finally returns, I know that he has brought something back with him, clenched in his fist and concealed from view.

"You've never been this horny in your life. You're aching for it. I bet you'd hump anything. Don't think I didn't notice how you reacted when my shoe bumped into your dirty little pussy. You whined like a bitch in heat. If I let you, you'd hump my shoe until you came screaming. Is that right?" I'm avoiding his eyes, and he grabs a fistful of hair and yanks my head up. "Right?"

"Yes Sir," I tell him, to my deep humiliation.

He smirks, lets go of my hair, and opens his other hand, presenting to me the concealed object he had fetched from the other room. It looks like a chain with alligator clips on either end. "Have you used nipple clamps before?"

"No," I say, eyeing the clamps with trepidation.

"Because I am a generous Master, I'm going to let you fuck my shoe like you want." My breath catches in my throat. "But we're going to have a little fun with it. I'm going to put these clamps on your sensitive little nipples. And I'm going to hold the chain. Sometimes I'll pull up, sometimes I'll give you a bit of relief. If you can cum, you may without asking me this time. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master." I stick out my chest for the clamps, so eager am I to get some relief for my needy pussy. He laughs.

"What an eager little slut you are. This is going to hurt." He grasps my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I wince as he lets the jagged teeth of the clamp close over my tender flesh. The pinch is tight, but after the initial bite it slowly becomes bearable, and more than pain I feel a powerful tingle travel from my nipple to my greedy, swollen clit. When he closes the clamp on my right nipple, I groan more out of pleasure than pain. "Alright, slut," he says, stretching out his leg as if offering me his black leather shoe. "See what you can do."

The angle is difficult. I need to brace myself on his knees in order to lower myself down far enough to make contact with the top of his shoe. When I finally do, my entire body shudders so violently that I have to pause for a moment before start to rock myself back and forth on the cool, quickly moistening leather. Almost instantly, I feel a powerful orgasm building in my stomach, and I quicken my pace, moaning with abandon, clutching James calf and closing my eyes.

Then, blinding pain as James yanks up abruptly on the clamp chain. I yelp loudly and rise up on my knees to relieve the sudden pressure on my nipples as James grins sadistically at me. "Did you think cumming was going to be easy, pet?" He holds me there for a moment, aching nipples pointing skyward, until my orgasm subsides. Then, he loosens his grip, and I sink back to the floor, grinding once more against his shoe. It happens faster this time - I get close, he again pulls me to my knees. After the fifth time, I am almost weeping from frustration, and when he pulls up, I fight it for just a moment, enduring the burning in my nipples for another second of friction. I expect to be chastised, but instead he lays a comforting hand on my head. "That's right, pet. If you can push through the pain, you can take the reward."

It is all the encouragement I need. I hump furiously at his shoe, and when I feel the now familiar cruel searing of the clamps I persist, until James has ripped the clamps painfully from my nipples and I explode with the best orgasm I've ever had.

I am still shaking as James gathers me up from the floor onto his knee, pulling a blanket over me as he cradles me in his arms. He gently kisses my forehead, and I gaze up at him in dazed wonder. "That was amazing," he says. "Are you alright?"

"God, yes." I breathe. Then I smile, and add teasingly, "Thank you, Sir."

He returns my smile. "I can't believe I've found you," he says.

He kisses me deeply, and I know this night will be the beginning of an entirely new world for me.