For a while he seemed entirely lost in his own thoughts then he said something that surprised her. He made a comment about how good she’d been to wear the permanent collar and how sexy it was that she was walking around with his name on the inscription. He then hinted that he had another similar bondage device for her. She was immediately intrigued but was powerless to find out more. Not only were slaves not allowed to question or comment without being asked but she also had her mouth very much full. The thought amused her. She’d always been taught not to speak with her mouth full and she wondered if her mother would approve of her current display of manners.
Her curiosity was increased further when he mentioned that this piece of equipment was more serious and restrictive than the metal collar she was already wearing. Her kinky mind sprang into action and she came to a quick conclusion. They’d recently read Story of O together and had both been aroused by the descriptions of O having her outer lips pierced and being forced to wear a short dangling chain between her legs. The more she thought about it the more certain she became that he had to be referring to some kind of intimate ring or stud. It seemed that he wasn’t going to present her with the item until later that weekend so she had plenty of time to ponder the matter.
Having come to the end of his very positive summary he lifted her head from his cock and grabbed her by the hair. He was behaving with the urgent dominant motions of a man who was massively aroused and she was loving it. His excitement seemed to grow and now very much in a hurry he pushed her in front of him up the stairs to the bedroom. There was to be no long drawn out foreplay. As soon as he got her inside the pushed her down onto the bed and slipped himself inside her. They fucked quickly and passionately and she soon found herself letting out pants that turned into moans. As he thrust harder and faster she felt herself starting to grow towards an orgasm. “Can I come please master?” she asked between desperate breaths.
“No bitch you may not.” That just made it worse. Although it was her who’d encouraged him to be rough with her and to use the strongest language he could, at that moment he was so totally turned on and carried away it really sounded like he was abusing her. His hand was still grasping the knot of hair at the back of her head and he held her tight against the mattress as he fucked her from behind. She had to concentrate hard on not coming but feeling his own excitement and thinking about how severe the punishment would be if she did orgasm only made the situation worse. She gritted her teeth and used all her mental discipline to stop herself reaching a climax. She thought about all the women nearby who at some time that weekend would begin their ten minutes of weekly vanilla sex and concentrate hard on trying to cum. Most of the time she had the opposite problem and it was the humour and wry irony of this situation that managed to distract her.
At that moment James came in a series of blissful jolts and shudders then collapsed on her hot sweaty back and started to bite kiss and nibble at her shoulder. “Oh my love, my love” he said softly. “That wasn’t what I had planned for tonight at all but sometimes you just have to go with the flow.” He released her then slid off sideways and they exchanged tender kisses. “You do my dear.” she replied softly. “Sometimes you absolutely have to go with the flow.” With that they climbed under the covers and drifted into a peaceful doze.
The weekend continued in much the same vein. On the Saturday morning James again took her hair and forced her to fellate him before fucking her as hard and fast as he could. Once again she begged him to let her cum and once again he denied her.
He gave her a couple of hours off in the mid-morning to go to the gym and do some shopping then they met for lunch and drifted back home. After completing some admin tasks and a few chores around the house he summoned her to the drawing room and commanded her back into slavery. She immediately stripped and knelt naked at his feet. Despite their two intense previous sessions he still seemed to be very keen to play and she was delighted with the attention he lavished on her. She spent most of the rest of the Saturday afternoon bound with rope on the floor of the basement dungeon. He spent hours teasing and tormenting her, putting wooden clothes pegs on her nipples and all the tender places of the body of her body only to pull them off and follow up the sting of pain with moments of delicious pleasure delivered at the tip of the Hitachi Magic Wand.
Again and again she came close to orgasm and again and again he denied her any release. As she squirmed helplessly at his touch he mentioned the permanent slave device that he had in store for her and she carefully noted his plans. It seemed that after dinner the next day he was going to challenge her to wear this new piece of intimate apparel. She grew increasingly intrigued she was now certain that it would be a piercing. She hadn’t fully decided on her answer and decided to make her decision in the heat of the moment. She knew that he wouldn’t mind too much if she refused. He always respected her decisions and an intimate ring or stud was obviously something that needed to be her own choice. She was glad that he kept pushing the terms of her slavery. It didn’t need to be much, but as each week went by she felt the need to be a little bit more enslaved and dominated.
After a very sexy Sunday morning together they went for a lazy walk around the Common then to one of the local pubs for a delicious roast lunch. While they were eating he announced that he was going to present her with the new piece of attire later that night but first he was going to cook her one of their favourite meals and they were going to have one of their ‘cocktail evenings’. This was their description for a special way of spending a glamorous and intimate time together. It meant that they would make extra efforts to decorate the house using as many candles and sprays of fresh flowers as possible and when every room was subtly lit and fragrant they would put on their favourite romantic music and both go to dress up.
That evening he really went to town. After lunch he sent her to the florists by the underground station and she bought so many lilies and roses that her order had to be delivered in a van. They tidied and decorated the house together then he clicked his fingers and changed her from a normal person into her slave persona. She immediately stripped naked and knelt at his feet and he ordered her to follow him upstairs.
What followed was one of her favourite parts of their romantic evenings. With the house candlelit and romantic arias playing in every room she had to help her master bathe and dress. Scurrying like a Victorian chamber maid between the main bathroom and his bedroom she ran him a deep hot bath whilst helping him undress. He deliberately did absolutely nothing while she worked and she had to time it to perfection so that the moment he was undressed the water would be ready for him. As usual he was excited and erect and before he lowered himself into his bath he clicked his fingers to indicate that she should pleasure him with her mouth. Kneeling on the thick warm mat she took his length between her lips and sucked gently while he stood casually scratching and yawning above her. A firm shove from his hand brushed her head away then he stepped into the tub and lowered himself slowly into the steaming water. Her job was to wash him and taking an old-fashioned loofah and some soap she started meticulously scrubbing every inch his body. When she’d finished he sent her to fetch the newspaper then made her kneel in the first slave position while he sat back and read. It was a routine they’d performed many times before and it still titillated and excited her.
When he’d finished relaxing he called her back to his side and she dabbed him with towels then helped him slip into his robe. When he was dry they moved to the bedroom where she acted as his dresser. Darting quickly between his chest of drawers and wardrobe she produced socks and underwear and a starched white shirt and dark suit for him. Again he did nothing while she helped him into each garment and worked on every button and zip. When he was happy with his presentation he left her without a word and went downstairs to begin the cooking.
She could now begin her favourite part. After a wash and a long soak she went to her own grand bedroom and started to dress. Her brief for this type of evening was always th
e same. She had to look like an elegant lady attending a red carpet event then add details that revealed her to be a slave. This was a challenge that she enjoyed tremendously and she set to it with real pleasure.
While still in her robe she worked on her hair and makeup. She did her eyes and lips far more dramatically than she would’ve done for a normal evening then started on her underwear. She clipped on a suspender belt then pulled up a brand-new pair of seamed stockings. The main element of the outfit was a dramatic emerald green evening gown. It would have looked ridiculous in any other setting but in the house’s big formal dining room with candles glittering in the chandeliers and a roaring fire in the big hearth it worked perfectly. Once she’d managed to zip it up she added a pair of dark green three inch stilettos and some diamante jewellery. She covered her lower arms with opera gloves and was almost finished. The final stage was to add the slave details. She wrapped a thick black patent leather belt around her waist and then when she’d fastened it she lifted the front of her dress and tucked it into the belt. She pulled through the loop of material until the dress was fully raised at the front exposing her smooth shaved pubic area to view. Next she added leather cuffs to her ankles and wrists. As James preferred her natural smell to any perfume there was nothing else to apply and she then trod carefully and gracefully down the long curving staircase to greet her master.
The kitchen was full of rich spicy smells and she could see that he’d already done the bulk of the preparation for one of her favourite meals. He just needed to drop the pasta into the simmering water and he would soon be serving her a crab linguine with chilli. He poured her a heavily chilled glass of Pinot Grigio then escorted her into the rarely-used front dining room. Every surface was decorated with candles and he had set a real log fire in the grate. He sat in an armchair by the fire and positioned her on a footstool near his legs in such a way that she was sitting straight backed with her legs wide open. A casual observer who saw only her top half would see an elegant formally-dressed lady sipping wine with her lover. Only by entering the room and lowering their gaze would they notice her exposed loins and the cuffs and discreet collar that marked her out as a slave.
For a while the two of them sat drinking and speaking quite naturally and freely. The only rules were that she was not to move an inch from her position except to take a sip. He of course was free to do whatever he pleased and when she was in the middle of speaking or describing something in a particularly detailed way he would occasionally lean forward and slowly caress the lips of her sex.
By the time she’d finished her fist glass of wine she was feeling warm, tingly and aroused. Everything about the occasion was stimulating. She loved the glamour, she liked the fact that both of them had dressed up and made the house like something from Dangerous Liaisons or a Jane Austen novel. Best of all was that in the middle of all this setting she was still reminded that she was a slave. He could touch her between the legs and squeeze and fondle her breasts whenever he liked. She was not allowed to react or cover herself and this fired erotic triggers deep inside her.
James must have been keeping track of the time because he suddenly cut off the conversation and put down his drink. Without speaking he took away her glass and put a hand on her shoulder and manoeuvred her firmly off her stool and down onto the floor. Gentle pressure on the back of her head told her that she was to bow it and she found herself looking meekly at the patch of rug in front of her. He made sure that her legs were as wide open as possible then pulled her hands down to her pussy and positioned her fingers so that she was holding open her intimate lips. She was instantly reminded of their first hours together; a powerful flash back transporting her to when he had made her display herself to him in the back of his car on the journey to his country house.
For a while she was left like this. Her skin blushed warm with her desire and the heat from the nearby fire and the faint sound of crockery being moved echoed from the other side of the house and she was just slipping into subspace when James returned with a large silver tray and laid out their dinner. With a single command he brought her to the table and they began the meal. She was given no further commands and was free to enjoy the delicious pasta with its fresh crab meat and the spicy tang of chopped chillies.
When they’d finished he moved her back to the fireside and placed her down onto the rug into her position of exposure and obedience. This time he slipped a blindfold over her head and she was left in total darkness. He cleared the table then returned a few minutes later and sat in the armchair next to her. His warm strong hands cradled her head and turned her face towards him. His lips met hers and they kissed passionately. She gave herself completely to his mouth and tongue and she was reminded of the simple but primal joy of snogging. It was something that had quickly been lost in her other relationships but with James was that they still had all the energy and passion of fiery hormonal teenagers. Her body responded vigorously and she found herself longing to be touched, stroked and stimulated.
Her next experience was more sensory than sexual. He pulled away then put a spoon to her mouth. She took the offering and discovered that it was a small piece of chocolate truffle. For the second time that evening she was reminded of the treats she’d been served whilst tied onto the saddle in the garden his country house. She savoured both the taste and the memory; allowing the bitter sweetness to melt on her tongue for as long as she could before swallowing it down.
Next came a spoon of ice cream and then a sip of the familiar sweet desert wine. As her pudding progressed he stopped holding the wine glass to her mouth and instead pressed his lips to hers and allowed the delicious liquid to trickle into her mouth. There was something delightfully naughty about receiving the drink in this way and each of the sensual delights put her further into a dreamy blissful state.
When the desert finally came to an end he did something quite unexpected. He removed her blindfold then sat himself on the rug next to her in almost an identical kneeling position. He kissed her a few times on the jaw and neck and they sat for a while silently gazing into the fire and listening to their favourite aria from Tosca. It was the most perfect moment, she was full and content and feeling entirely in tune with her lover and master.
He finally broke the silence by producing a small box from his jacket pocket and pressing it into her hand. “This is the latest piece of slave gear for you,” he said. “As with the collar don’t hurry to answer. Take as long as you like to tell me if you’ll agree to wear it.” She nodded and looked down at the box. It was too small to contain anything other than some studs or some very delicate chains and she wondered if perhaps he was asking her to wear little tags on her outer lips to mark her pussy as his property.
As she wasn’t sure if she would agree to the intimate piercing she decided to open the box to see if examining the jewellery would help clarify her thoughts. It contained a circle of metal; a single silver ring with a diamond sparking in its centre. As she stared its significance became real then he spoke and his words echoed the thought that was spinning in her head. “I’d like to ask you to marry me.”
She felt her mouth drop open and a tide of emotion start to rise from deep in her chest. For a few moments she was too stunned to do anything then she managed to reply with her typical response to shock, a kind of gruff humour. “I wasn’t expecting that form of slavery!”
“No.” He nodded, taking the joke well but keeping his eyes locked on her. “Take your time. I know it’s a big thing to ask.”
She swallowed hard and the tears rose quickly and unexpectedly. She hadn’t realised how much she’d wanted it until that moment. It had been fear and doubt that had pushed the thought aside but of course she wanted to be his wife. She was devoted to him.
Nodding rapidly she leant forward so that they could kiss. Their lips met and she mumbled her answer. “Of course. Of course. Yes, yes, yes, I will.” Glowing inside she leaned back and watched the smile grow on his face. For a while they rocked backwards and forward
in front of the fire, both hugging and kissing and crying then he took her by the hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. A new chapter of their life was about to begin and she couldn’t wait.
©Pauline Montford 2013
2nd Edition April 2013
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Twenty Tones of Red Page 26
