Confessions Of A Slave Ch. 02

four- the past

Our conversations became more and more frequent. Gradually, there came a time when i felt unfulfilled going to bed at night, unless i had heard His voice.

He told me stories which fascinated me endlessly, stories of dominance and submission, Masters and slaves. Bedtime tales that sent me into sleep fantasizing myself into the seduction of each one. The fantasies were based on touch and sound alone, because i still had no face to go with that oh-so-powerful voice. Still, they were the most compelling fantasies i had ever experienced. My faceless Master.

Other conversations were what i referred to as 'The Sexual Inquisition.' Rapid-fire, relentless questions about what turned me on, what didn't, what frightened me, what enticed me. i could never quite decide if he was only trying to find my boundaries, or to divine where they were weakest, where they might be flexed, pushed, or broken altogether.

He discovered that i had been spanked. That i had enjoyed the experience, but longed to take it further. That my marriage had been seven years of sex-by-numbers, and i had been made to feel unwanted, and very far from sexy. That my last relationship before marriage - six months during my senior year of high school - had been with a woman, and that i yearned to try it again. That i loved oral, was very frightened by anal, and had very large, and extremely sensitive breasts.

It was almost as if He was meticulously mapping out His sexual conquest of me, physically and mentally. In retrospect, i'm certain that is EXACTLY what He did. And it wasn't like i was only playing along, either. No, i felt compelled to answer, not only honestly, but thoughtfully. He delved into every corner of my deepest, darkest, most secret self. i suppose it could have felt invasive, but it never did. i wanted to open up those doors for Him, to allow Him into my essence. It felt like He belonged there. It felt like i had been left wanting in His absence.

five - the present

He is gone again, but His breath lingers on my throat, His taste on my tongue. Much of the tension i felt has drained away. i have given in to the whole experience, feeling as though i were adrift on a raft, being swept away on the tide. It is the calm acceptance of inevitability.

The slightest caress of cold steel on my collarbone pulls me back into awareness with an almost audible SNAP! It takes my mind a breathless moment to register what my body already knows:

He is holding a knife, just beneath that spot on my throat where the lifeblood pulses under the delicate skin.

We have discussed this. i admitted that i may like to try it, yet He has caught me entirely unprepared.

His fingers grasp the neck of His tank, the one He has given to me to wear, and the knife slices through the fabric with a titillating rasp. A delicious shudder envelopes me. Then, the knife is gone, and He grasps the slightly ragged edges of the cut fabric , ripping them apart until my breasts are fully exposed to the air, and His mercy.

"Do you have any idea how incredibly fucking sexy you are right now?"

His voice is almost a moan. A delightful frisson runs from my hairline to my instep, making me raise up on tiptoe and arch my back, my breasts reaching for Him as i cannot. i hear a desire, a raw and burning need in His voice that leaves me feeling simultaneously powerless and empowered. As though i might bring the world to its knees, even as i melt onto mine.

He draws my nipples into His mouth, one by one, teasing lightly with His lips and tongue and teeth at first. They grow taut and tingly on His warm, moist tongue, and He begins to nibble, then bite. Soon, He is practically chewing on the tender flesh as it throbs.

Gone again, and it takes me a moment to stop writhing from the heat that now radiates from both nipples, downward to tease my clit with an electric tingle. i hear the slight whisper of His bare feet on the carpet behind me, then silence.

i feel the pain - spreading outward from a tiny point on my back as it becomes pleasure - before i hear the abrupt POP! of the whip. He works me over thoroughly, striking my shoulders, my back, my ass, and my thighs. His impeccable aim pays close and merciless attention to those spots He knows to be the most sensitive. Over and over and over again, the underside of my ass, the triangles of soft flesh adjacent to my shoulder blades, and that one little spot just beneath the small of my back are set aflame, until my moans have no beginning, no middle, and no end. Again, through the moans that are nearly screams, i am biting my lip, biting back my safe-word.

"Are you okay?" He asks solicitously, His strong, warm hand, with its deceptively soft skin, resting gently on the side of my neck.

My knees are beginning to shake, and my lower lip is still caught in my teeth, so i nod slightly.

"Are you sure?"

i nod again, emphatically but still soundlessly, and the onslaught of blows resumes, accompanied still by my moans, and occasional whimpers.

six - the past

The evening conversations continued, and i soon felt that He knew me in ways no one else ever had. All of my secret caverns had been laid bare to Him. Not only was He accepting and understanding, but He seemed to want me more than ever. And i began to feel that i needed Him.

So we planned a meeting.

i was very late. i can't recall why, but i'm sure it had something to do with changing clothes a half-dozen times. i was so apprehensive, and so eager to please. i wanted to look perfect for Him. i was irrationally afraid that anything less might put Him off, or make Him not want me.

It seemed to take ages to drive to His apartment. i got lost on the way, and had to call Him from my cell phone. We had originally planned to meet in a restaurant, someplace public, but, as i said, i was late, so plans changed.

Fifteen minutes later, i was fidgeting nervously on the edge of His sofa, afraid to move, or even breathe. It's all a bit of a blur now. i think He may have cooked dinner. We watched something on television, but i cannot imagine what it might have been. Whatever it was, it came to an end.

"What's wrong?" He asked, watching me fidget.

"Well, um, i....i'm terrified!" i stammered thoughtlessly.

He smiled beneath those burning eyes.

"Come here."

He said it softly, gently, but it was a command nonetheless. my pulse was pounding in my ears, my face flushed. But i went to Him. i was powerless to do otherwise.

Even then, i could no more deny Him than the tides can deny the moon.

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-Hislittlebitch