10 November 2010

"Master is here" ~ a story

The quietness of the night is deafening, the silence is hard to hear.  There are no other noises, yet for some reason, although I sit there alone, I sense the presence of somebody else, yet I know that there is no-one else here, I know that I have the house to myself. I had locked the door behind me as I had come in, yet still, I feel uneasy, unsure, a sense of being watched, yet not knowing from where or by who.  I sit there, trying to shake off this feeling, I daren’t even move for the fear of someone being there who can see me at this point, is someone watching, do they see what I wear, or what I do.   Such vulnerability, such building and growing fears, yet, I know exactly the feelings that such vulnerability and fear brings also, the fears and vulnerability being under Ones control can bring . . .yet, he is not here, and yet I know that my body longs for him to be there, just as much as my mind does too.

It is dark, I am alone, the nights are always hard, the unknown, the unseen, it terrifies me if I let it.  He was supposed to be here tonight, but, last minute changes . . . and he cannot be.  He cannot be here until the morning, yet I am saddened at a loss of a night with him, the anticipation building of the time that I will share with him the following day, that alone, that knowing he will be here is enough to keep me smiling, yet, the thoughts and the feelings that he brings to me, I sense the growing arousal within me. His voice, his touch, his control, feelings never brought to me in such ways.  I long to be in his presence, to serve him, to please him, knowing that however something may make me feel, however humiliated, however ashamed, that he takes those feelings away from me. I love the feelings that he brings to me, I love the feelings that come to me when I give of myself, and I have, to such depths.  He knows, the thoughts and feelings within me, He knows how to play my mind, to build the fear, to heighten every single sense. 

But right now, he is not here, I pour a glass of wine, and return to the sofa, and still I feel as if every movement I make is being watched, that everything I do is being scrutinized to such a degree that this person could see the goosebumps growing on my arms, that it feels I am being watched so closely that they could see the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, or that they could witness the growing wetness that such uneasy feelings also brings.  The silence of the night surrounds me, and still I feel uneasy, as I move to the windows to shut the curtains, I need to shut out the silence, and to shut out the millions of pairs of eyes that I can feel bearing down on me . . .I lie on the sofa, the stereo turned up to take away the creaking noises in the house, I try to relax, knowing that tomorrow will be such a wonderful day, my mind moves slowly to the person who floods my entire being, the person who is the focus of my mind, and of all of my thoughts within them.  Maybe he has sent someone to watch me, maybe this is another of his games, he plays them because he knows just how much I respond, of just how much it takes me to the place it does.  And I know my place, and there is always a constant reminder to me, not always a physical reminder, but there is always one there, deep within.

Staring at the ceiling, my mind lost to the most wonderful thoughts, I can feel my body stir, the deep senses of arousal begin to appear, their wetness being so easily felt, a body that responds with a simple thought, a simple word, a simple anything . . .he, her Master,  loves the way her body responds, of how her mind works. He loves the way that he knows the battles that rage in her mind, but he loves the way that her focus is to please him, to serve him, and that in doing that, the very depths of her are fulfilled.  He knows that there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, that she exists to please him, that her subservience to him is so total but so felt with every part of her, and she knows her place. I know my place. . .

As I lie there, the heightening arousal, mixed with the sense of unease and fear, I cannot shake that feeling of being watched, and I touch myself slowly . . .picturing him being here . . . picturing being at His feet, as he deftly gags and hoods me, the electricity from his touch causing me to gasp deeply, every single part of my body coming alive at his touch, at his presence, at being his.  So many opportunities of being alone . . .to explore . . .to play . . .to feel . . .to love . . .

And yet, still I feel watched, and decide to move to the bedroom, taking off some of my clothes as I go, I pull the top over my head, and walk down the hallway to the bottom of the stairs, I shiver against the draft which comes down the hall, a draft which I do not know where it has come from, fumbling for the light switch I sense a presence behind me, I feel the eyes boring through me, seeing the growing nervousness and fear within me.  I gasp as I start to turn to run, and as I do, a hand covers my mouth from behind, the force of the hand bringing my head back as the other hand wraps tightly around the base of my neck, trying to gasp for breath, the fear continues to grow as I try to scream, to fight, fighting for air for my body, fighting to be free of the strength of the grip. I feel my head become lightheaded, both through fear and through lack of oxygen, there is no sound, no presence, only strength in the hands that are around me, and strength in the fear that has gripped me.  I am pushed hard up against the wall, my burning face pushed against the cold paintwork, I shiver trying to protest, the hand removed and released from my mouth and I use the chance to try to move.  The slap across the face, not hard, but firm, enough to bring me back to the moment, of taking me down.  It is something that only my Master had done with me, a slap on the cheek, not with power, yet with so much strength, and because he can . . .and because he knows it takes me down to a point where the depths of my submission is felt, a reminder of my place to him, and I am surprised at being slapped by someone in this way and I am surprised at the way my body floods with those submissive feelings, and yet, the shock of the slap across my face, the slight sting but the warmth that comes in, surprises me, it shocks me into not moving, and I feel the coldness of the tape being slapped across my mouth, silencing me further.  My hands are pulled behind me, the roughness and force of being made helpless, yet there is something gentle about the touch, my mind is confused, my body begins to betray the fear that sits within me. I am scared . . .yet I am aroused, the wetness that seeps between my legs so clear to be felt, yet even without touch. I focus at that moment on my Master, the one who should be here with me, the one I always thought would keep me safe, yet he is not here.

And tighter my arms are pulled behind me, I am pinned to the wall with even more force, the coldness of the wall making me gasp and moan, excitement building within, the fear gripping my heart as it beats loudly, its vibrations reverberating through my entire body, my pulse beating so fast, and still the body betrays the fear.  I feel him fumbling, and then the rough pull of rope as he quickly binds my wrist, and I am pushed further to the wall, the only thing to be giving me balance, the only thing holding me up at this moment.  I try to focus on breathing, yet it is not easy, the terror within begins to well, and I realize that if he secures me further I will be more helpless than I am already, I begin to fight, pushing back to throw his balance, his grip getting tighter, as I struggle further still.  There is only one person who I feel safe being helpless too, knowing that even if I am helpless I am safe, yet I do not feel this now, a searing pain rips through me as his hand lands hard on my ass, the warmth flooding my ass cheeks almost immediately, I choke back the intial pain it brings, the silent tear that forms at the corner of my eye burns my eyes, a tear from pain, and a tear from anger that someone is doing this to me, and yet, my body is flooded with feelings as the mind sends signals through my body, and as his hand makes contact with my ass again, he grabs a handful of my hair, whipping my head backwards, the pain intense, yet, there is something just so exquisite about having your hair pulled, my thoughts drift to my Master and how it feels when he pulls my hair, when I feel the his fingers move through my hair, against my scalp knowing the force that is to come as he grabs a handful of my hair, yet, how can I be thinking of such things, and feeling such arousal when I am faced with this.

I feel myself start to drift, and yet his message becomes all too clear as he pulls me around and throws me to the floor, the coldness of the tiles hitting my breasts, the coldness and fear immediately making the nipples hard and erect and again my body betrays me, and I hope that he cannot see that.  No words are spoken, yet it is clear his intentions and what he is going to do, I lay frozen, terrified of angering him further, yet knowing that I am already helpless and under his control, yet, its not his control that I want to be under, it is not his control that should be happening . . .

I lie there for what seems like an age, yet I know is only a matter of seconds, I can hear his breathing, deep and hard, my own shallow and fast, my pulse racing, my heart beating loudly, I sense him move down to me and try to pull away as he roughly pulls a hood over my face securing it from behind.  I am plunged into darkness, every single sense being heightened in everyway, I lay still, trying to see if I can breathe freely or not, straining to hear him to know where he is, trying to work out his movements, his next movement. Yet, all I hear is the music in the lounge, the music I had turned up to block the silence of the night out.

It taunts me with its gentleness, with its calmness, with its beauty, and finally his hands return, securing something on each ankle, my instinct is to kick out, and I do so, yet surprised at his strength and the quickness of his reactions as he pins me against the floor, and still my legs kick out and I catch him as he reaches over and I hear him hiss angrily at me.  He strikes me hard, again and again his hand making contact with my cold, yet burning skin, the dampness of a light sweat growing out of a mixture of fear and arousal, and his hand hits hard on my ass, at my thighs, across the top of the stockings that I had not had time to remove, and finally, collapsing from the pain that his hands have brought to me, small sobs escape me, the tears falling down inside the mask, the eyes burning, yet I feel ashamed at the tears, at him seeing my weakness, my fear, yet they fall from anger too, but mainly from the pain that burns from my ass and my thighs.

I tremble lying on the floor, the tears burning my face as the mask becomes sodden from the tears that fall, and still there is no word, still there is no sound, no voice. And his hands return to my ankles, and he moves from me, pulling me upwards by my hair beneath the hood that I wear, I rise quickly as I can, half falling, yet steadied by the strength of his grip on my hair, I await his next touch, but am surprised to hear footsteps moving away from me.  I struggle to gather myself, knowing that he will not stay away long, but that he is there and yet I do not know his movements.  New fear floods through me as I consider his intentions, as I think of whether I could make a dash for it, yet, I cannot see, my hands wouldn’t help me escape, only my feet are free and yet my legs tremble so hard I can hardly stand. The thoughts are interrupted by the sound of his return, I stand shivering in the night air, leather surrounds my neck and I begin to panic, I canont identity this feeling, the feeling of being choked overwhelms me, I begin to shake quite drastically, and I hear another metal click, feeling metal draping across my skin, as it is pulled off, the pressure around my neck tucks at me, forcing me blindly to follow.  We stop, abruptly, the coldness of the floor clearly felt beneath my stocking covered feet, the hand reaches down removing the silk French knickers that I had been wearing, yanking them down, I feel their wetness touch my skin as they fall to the floor, I am exposed now, and his foot forces between my ankles moving from left to right, I am off balance and I struggle to remain tanding, he continues to kick my legs, forcing them apart, the snap of metal on one ankle sends chills searing through my body, and I try to move my other foot further apart so that I cannot be placed into an even deeper place of helplessness.

Yet, feeling helpess, I can feel the trickle of wetness leaving my exposed sex, the kicking at my other ankle as he positions my legs wide apart, snapping the other end, I know that he has secured a spreader bar, I cannot move, I cannot run, I can hardly stand as the trembling from fear yet deepest excitement courses through my body.

He shifts behind me and I feel him release the binding on my arms, the rope burning against my skin
again, pulling at the snap on my jeans, and the zipper – roughly yanking them down over my thighs, shoving my feet up out of them.  i am exposed now and his foot is forced between my ankles, kicking left to right, forcing my legs apart.  the snap of metal on one ankle sends new chills through my body as i realize he is securing a spreader.   kicking hard at my other ankle, he positions my legs wide apart, snapping the other end.  he shifts behind me and i feel him release the bindings on my arms.  he quickly steps around me and pulls my wrists together, leather surrounding first one, then the other, and the familiar snap of a clip.  he yanks them over my head and i feel him lean into me as he secures them over my head…i am stretched high now.  my breasts pushing into the air, humiliation floods me as i am unable to hide any part of me.

the music has changed now…a building bass, matching the beat of my heart, it grows louder, driving me with it as i once again wait helplessly.  i wince as a finger trails down my back slowly, and i wiggle to shift away….i feel the teasing trail of leather as it glides across my shoulders, falling down my back.  i am truly afraid now as it pulls away…and i feel the stinging slap as it lands between my shoulders, again and again it bites in to me, the intensity growing.  my shoulders and back are on fire as he moves  his focus to my ass and thighs, and then works his way back up again. a brief respite, followed by a loud crack near my ear.  i freeze in terror - and my body pulls at the restraints, trying to move away…the next crack makes me scream as the whip cuts through my skin.  i loose count as the whip snaps behind me, a pattern being formed across my shoulders, my back…. the hand again, caressing my ass, gently yet firmly…stroking it…grabbing it.  my body responding in spite of itself.. i lean back into the hand, welcoming the warmth….his finger running down the crack of my ass and up again playing, teasing…i feel him move in front of me and gasp as i my nipples are suddenly grabbed, pinching tightly, he pulls them upwards and i try to to rise to my toes, meeting the pull…he is rolling them , pulling and i feel my knees quake, the pending orgasm taking my breath away.  as i cum, he releases me and slides his hands between my legs…my face burns as he runs his fingers across my pussy, the wetness dripping across his fingers.  he begins to rub my clit, circling lightly, increasing pressure and again i cannot control my response to him,  his fingers slide into my, his thumb keeping pressure on my clit, and i am rocking against his hand, moaning as the orgasm rips through my body and pours onto the floor.  i spasm as he continues, drawing yet more from me…my breath now rapid and forced as i strain yet again against him…

as he finally pulls away,  i stand shaking - cold steeling through me as i realize how responsive i had been to him.  guilt over-whelms me as i think of my Master, the betrayal i know he will feel when i tell him, knowing i will have to tell him all….

my hands aches as blood-flow slows and i begin to try to shift them.  he must see this as i feel his hand go to them , checking, he releases them , rubbing the as he lowers them…massaging the flow roughly.   my hands drop and i feel rope again, pulling around my waist…he pins my arms back and ropes begin to circle my elbows. i brace against the pain as he pulls, forcing me breasts out, the ropes now secured to my waist, my shoulders aching as he moves around me,  i gasp in pain as metal bites into my nipples, clamps biting cruelly into flesh….he flicks them and i moan…which only seems to encourage him as he shifts from one to the other.  his hands pushing my shoulders down, forcing me to my knees…a part of the hood breaks away and the tape is ripped from my lips… i jump as i feel flesh push against my lips.  he is forcing his cock into my mouth and i bite down hard to resist, repulsion building deep in my stomach. he reaches down and pulls the chain connecting to the clamps on my nipples, and as the pain rips through me i open  my mouth to cry out. he quickly forces himself in, slamming back and forth into my throat.  the feel of him, the size…the taste…all flood my mind and i start as i realize why…it can only be Him…i would know His cock anywhere…with tears of happiness, i open my mouth and throat to Him…feeling the force of His need…and hungrily take his every drop as He explodes down my throat – finally, speaking as he says "Master is here"

[written by and copyright of top_kat Jan 2008 simply from the 3 words of "Master is here" ]

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