She was not quite sure what was going to happen. Chase had just told her to wear comfortable clothes and flip-flops. She did not need to wear anything fancy or new. As long as it was not ratty or had holes, she was fine. She was a little upset with his tone. She did not like the way he had talked to her. He was not disrespectful or rude. It was however, a little demanding. His sentences were short and to the point. Not his usual joking, jovial tone he had heard from day one and grown to love and look forward to each time they talked.
She slide on a pair of leggings and an over-size t-shirt from a place she had visited when she went to Oak Island with friends. It was her favorite color. It was more of a security blanket than a shirt. She put her hair up in a clip. It was still a little wet from her shower. She slide on a pair of flip-flops that were beside the door. The whole thing still seemed odd to her as she locked the door and walked to her SUV. She looked at her phone to get the address he had sent her again. It was not one she was familiar. That also made her nervous. She took a deep breath and let it our slowly as she put the SUV in drive and pulled out. The GPS said it would take her 20 minutes to get there.
She pressed mode on her radio to play the CD he had given her the week before. He had suggested she start listening to it. The music was not what she normally listened to or liked. Some of it was dark, edgy. It was beginning to grow on her. It also was a comfort to her as she drove toward this unknown address. She hummed to one of the songs as she drove hoping that would take the uneasiness away from her mind and body. It did not.
Her mind continued to wander back to how he acted as she drove. She wondered if she had done something wrong. Her conversations with him had always been fun, light-hearted. He had always made he feel relaxed, appreciated. Not his time. She wondered if something was wrong. Had she done something wrong? She made the turns as the GPS told her. Even the GPS voice seemed cold, demanding towards her today. It was nothing she told herself.
"I am worrying about nothing." She said it firmly and aloud. It gave her some comfort.
"Your destination is a quarter mile ahead on the right." Said the GPS guy. His name was Luke. That was not his real name. She gave him when she got her SUV. He was her favorite player on her favor pro team. He did not sound as cold has he had earlier in the day.
She really had not paid attention to where she was going. It was a simple small house, out in country. It was just a few miles outside the city. Trees shielded it from the road. The walk was lined with Monkey Grass; bushes lined the front of the house. It looked like something her grandparents would have lived it or maybe her parents. The grass looked freshly mowed. The smell of fresh cut grass seeped through the vents of her AC. She saw his SUV parked behind the house. The driveway curved around the back to a barn. She parked in front of the walk.
She took another deep breath as she opened her door. Her mind was racing again as she stepped out onto the walk. Her heart was pounding as she walked up on the porch in the front. She thought back to his tone, his message. He told her to come straight in when she got there. She heard music playing faintly inside. It was one of the instrumental cds that he liked to listen to when he was doing something. That made her feel a little better. He certainly would not kill me with his favorite song playing she thought. He does not seem like the killing type; neither was Ted Bundy her conscience shouted in her head. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Her heart pounded harder and harder with each step she took inside the house. She closed the door behind her. The room as lit only by candle light. There were some on the floor, some on the counter and tables. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She stood waiting. She noticed that the curtains had been drawn to make it dark inside.
It was cool also, not cold has she first had thought. Music seemed to be playing throughout the house. It was eerie and romantic all at the same time. She wanted to call out to him to make sure he was there and OK. As her lips started to form his name, he stepped into the faint, flickering light. She noticed he was standing in the middle of the room.
He was dressed in a suit. She had never seen him in a suit. Not even in pictures in house. If he was dressed up, he wore some type of sports coat or blazer, no suits, never, ever. He walked toward her. She saw that he was dressed completely in black, suit, shirt, and tie. His hair was slicked back. Part of her was scared; another part was seriously aroused at the sight of him in the dancing candle light.
"Come to me." he called to her.
His voice was firm, monotone, and not loud. He waited a few seconds for her to respond. She could not move. It was as if she was frozen, fear was consuming her thoughts and body. She did not like this; she was growing more scared and afraid.
"Come to me!" He said it again. His voice was firmer, louder, this time. He held out his hand. She stepped forward. Fear coursed through her veins, throughout her body. She wanted to run. I need to run she thought something has happened to him and I DO NOT like. Her mind was screaming at her body to run. All she could do was walk toward him. Excitement was slowly pushing the fear out of her body.
Trembling she reached out to him. Her heart was telling her that he will not hurt you he will not harm you. You are safe with him. Her fingers were shaking as she touched his hand. It felt cold and lifeless. The fear that was leaving her body rushed back into her. Her breathing intensified. Her heart pounded, she could feel it all over her body. She could not pull herself away from him. Something kept pulling her to him. She was getting more and more frightened. Part of her want to cry, scream out. The words did not form. What is happening? Her mind fought with her body and heart. He firmly, gently pulled her towards him.
He led her down the dimly lit hallway. The only light came from the front room. He walked in front of her, not saying a word. He kept her at an arm's length. He did not look back at her. He did not speak to her. He opened the door at the end of the hall. Fear and excitement ran through her mind and body.
Dim runner lights outlined the room. They casted an eerie glow throughout the room. As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, she saw a large four-poster bed at one end of room. At the other end, she saw large wooden frame with straps hanging from the top.
She glanced around the room with her eyes, she was afraid to move her head. She did not want to upset him. She did not see any windows. She saw that the floor was tile. It went halfway up the wall. What she though was carpet ran from the tile to the ceiling. Then it went across the ceiling. Her nose picked up the slight scent of lavender. She noticed the outline of things on the walls. She was not sure if they were tools or weapons at first. As her eyes adjusted to the room, she realized that some of them were whips, masks, sticks, and what appeared to be a ruler. Fear was still fighting to take control of her body. Arousal and excitement was fighting for it as well.
He stopped in the middle of the room. He turned and faced her. He looked straight ahead, almost robotic. He asked her to hold her hands above her head. She was reluctant; slowly she complied with his directions.
"The safe word is orange. You say the word if you are uncomfortable with what is happening. You say the word if you have had enough." He told her. She wanted to say it now. She wanted to scream it. Her emotions were all over the place at the moment. She was aroused, excited and scared. He slowly undressed her. He took his time so that he did not hurt her. Her body was tense, she tried to relax, and she just could not let herself do it.
After he finished undressing her, he walked her over to the rack. He tied her hands above her head, one to each corner of the rack. He secured them making sure that the straps were not too tight. Her arms had some bend to them.
"Do you know the safe word?" He asked. He was still monotone and emotionless. Her emotions were still jumping from fear to arousal to excitement. Her body trembled at the thought of what was going to happen.
"Yes, it is orange." She replied.
"Do you know when to use it?" He asked.
"Yes, I know when to use it."
His stare was straight ahead. It was as if he was staring through her. He bent down and gently pulled her feet apart slightly. Then he secured them to some hooks in the floor. He checked to make sure they were secure, not tight. He walked in front of her. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimly lit room. She could see what was on the walls. She saw whips, masks, straps, handcuffs. All were neatly arranged and displayed on the walls. The fear was still there, arousal and excitement were fighting to take control of her body on the inside. He was controlling her outside. He walked around her checking each strap, making sure they were all secure. He caressed her body as he did. Goosebumps formed on her body everywhere he touched. She was becoming aroused. He squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples. They were now erect and hard, pointing and straining to get further out.
He walked over to the wall and pulled of a strap. Then he grabbed a feather boa. She had not noticed it when she was looking around the room. She did notice that everything was black. He wrapped the feather boa around her body. It felt warm, inviting, almost soothing to her naked body.
"Some things are for pleasure." He said as pulled the boa. It tickled her, she tried not to laugh, she was not sure if she was allowed to or not. He was focused and she was want sure, how he would react if he did. She did not want to upset him. He wrapped the leather strap around her body, the opposite way of the boa. It felt cold and rough. It smelled like saddle.
"Somethings are for pain." He gave the leather strap a quick yank. It hurt her as it snaked its way from her body. It felt rough and raw. It pulled and scratched at her skin. It caused her some pain. She gave out a low groan.
"What you get, pleasure or pain, depends on what you do. If you obey, you will receive pleasure. If you disobey, you will receive pain. The choice is yours. Do you understand?" He said and waited for her response.
"Yes." She replied.
He smacked her with the leather strap across her bare ass. Not very hard, just hard enough to get her attention. It was a little sting. She liked it, which surprised her.
"The proper response is, Yes Daddy or No Daddy. Another acceptable response is Yes Sir or No Sir. Do you understand?" He voice to still cold.
"Yes Daddy" she replied. He wrapped the feather boa around her body and let it tickle her as he pulled it away. She wanted to laugh, she feared the punishment if she was not allowed. He sensed it.
"You may laugh if you want." He said.
"Yes Daddy." She replied and giggled a little.
"Very good My Little Red Headed Girl." He responded. She smiled as she heard him say it.
"I like my name Daddy." She purred.
Good was his reply. He was still very business-like, monotone, and expressionless. His touch had gotten warmer; he seemed to be a little more relaxed, less robotic. She was still a little skittish with all that was happening. He squeezed her nipples again. This time a little harder.
"Some people find pain arousing. You have experienced some pain during our relationship. Now we are going to find your limits." He was slowing walking around her as he was talking. Like a lion, stalking its prey getting ready to pounce.
"Yes Daddy," she said. Her voice was beginning to tremble again. The fear from earlier was gone. Arousal and excitement were all she felt now. Her skin tingled as she tried to follow him around the room.
"Do you remember the safe word my Lil Read Headed Girl?"
"Yes Daddy."
"Good. These are nipple clamps. I am going to place them on your nipples."
"Yes Daddy."
Some of the fear was now returning as he placed the first one on her nipple, then the other. There was some pain, not as much as she thought. She feel herself getting wet. Her skin tightened on her body. Her senses were becoming more elevated. She had thought about being tied up and restrained.
She had always wondered what it would be like. She had never acted on these feelings, though. She had read about it and looked at pictures and videos on the internet, never really going into much depth. He took the clips off and put on another set. These were tighter. She winced at the pain, trying not to make any noise. The room felt cooler after he applied the second one. She could smell his cologne now. She could also smell the wood and iron in the room. Goosebumps formed on her skin. This was turning her on; she was getting more excited as she wondered what he would be doing to her next.
"Does My Lil Red Headed Girl like this?
"Yes Daddy."
"Good. Very good My Lil Red Headed Girl. We are going to take it up a notch now." His expression was still straightforward, business like, robotic. While she thought she would like being spanked, she wanted it done on her terms and her conditions. This was not going to happen today. It was all on his terms, his agenda. The more she thought about it, the more aroused she got.
He then placed a clothespin on her left breast. He waited about 30 seconds and then place another one on her right breast. He waited another 30 seconds and repeated the process, left then right. He did this until there were five clothespins on each breast. The pain was arousing. It was also more than she could handle.
"Orange. I am sorry Daddy. Please forgive me Daddy." She tried not to scream it. She also did not want to let him down. She felt she has disappointed him.
"It is okay. Today we are seeing what our limits are. I am not upset or disappointed in you, My Lil Red Headed Girl." He took the clothespins off one at a time.
She had lost all track of time. She was thirsty. Her throat was dry. Her nostrils begged for moisture. She was afraid to speak out because she did not want to upset him. She hoped he would sense it and ask if she wanted something to drink.
"Is My Lil Red Headed Girl okay?"
"I am thirsty Daddy. May I please have a drink of water?"
"Yes you may, My Lil Red Headed Girl."
Her lips eagerly slipped the ice water from the glass he held to her lips. Her throat relaxed as the cool liquid rippled down her throat. It soothed her, made her feel a little more relaxed. As she thought about what he was planning, next her body began to tingle with anticipation.
"The next time you are thirsty use the safe word and tell me what is happening. You must communicate with me at all times. That is why we have it."
"Yes Daddy."
"Very good My Lil Red Headed Girl. Shall we continue?"
"Yes Daddy." Her arms were getting a little tired, a good kind of tired. She was not going to tell him. She did not want to ruin whatever he had planned for them. Her mind wandered, wondering what was coming next. She was slowly accepting the changes she was seeing in him.
Now her mind was racing as she glanced around the room at all of the items hanging on the walls. What was he going to choose next? Would she enjoy it and hate it? He walked in front of her holding a riding crop used by jockeys on horse. She sweet leather smell filled her nose. It did not smell anything like the leather strap from earlier. The smell sent her back to her childhood of time spent at a friend's farm riding horses. She smell made her forget about the soreness in her arms and legs.
"I am going to strike your buttocks with this crop. It will sting. I will wait a few seconds and then strike you again. I am not going to hit you as hard as I could. Just hard enough to sting."
"Yes Daddy."
He struck her across the middle of her buttocks. He was right; it did sting. It got her attention. He waited for 30 seconds like he did with the clothespins and then struck her again. The stringing sensation was a different feeling for her. It was nothing like she had thought it would be. It was exciting her, arousing her, making her wet. He struck her three more times. With each strike her body responded by getting wetter. She could feel it on her thighs.
He stopped after the fifth lick. He walked around in front of her. His facial expressions showed no emotion. He slid his hand between her smooth, silky thighs and found her wetness. He did it slowly, deliberately. He placed his hand so the fingers rubbed again he wet swollen clit as he reached inside.
"Very good My Lil Red Headed Girl." He was expressionless, his voice was still monotone show no emotion at all. As slowly as he put his hand in, he pulled it out in the same manner. She wanted to squeeze his hand so that it rubbed against her slowly. She wanted to cum, she was afraid to. He slid his hand back in again. He was slower this time, more direct and deliberately, almost calculated.
This time it was more than she could stand. She let out at a low moan. She felt the muscles in her body tighten. She felt her ass tighten as her thigh muscles tightened to squeeze her legs together; grabbing his hand like it was an intruder into her personal space. She fought grinding her hips against him. She tried to stop. Her mind was screaming at her body not to more, to stop, to be good submissive. Her body was not listening. It wanted to orgasm. It wanted her to moan, scream, CUM!!!
Her body wanted her to cum hard, long intently. There was not stopping it, no matter how hard she tried. Her hips ground on to his hand. Her thighs locked onto his hand like a vice. Her back arched.
"GOD YES!!!" She could not stop, a low moan escaped. He did not stop her. He stood quietly. He made mental notes as he watched her. Her wetness covered his hand, oozing done her thighs.
As he watched her orgasm subside, he asked her. "Are you thirsty?"
"Yes Daddy." She gasped and swallowed, trying to pull herself together. He gave her some sips of water.
"Thank you Daddy." She said in a faint voice. She was trying to catch her breath before he started back with the spanking. He waited a couple of minutes more before resuming.
"Shall we resume, My Lil Red Headed Girl?"
"Yes Daddy." Her body was more turned on than it had ever been in the past. Jessica's body was more attuned now. Her senses were more elevated. She saw him in a new light, a new position. In the faintly lit room, she was now able to see the devices of pleasure and pain. She was not able to see all the details of each. She was able to feel the cool tile with her body, not just her feet. There was not any fear in her. Now there was excitement, arousal, and anticipation. When would he strike me again? She craved the smacks, wanted him, and desired him.
SMACK! She felt the breeze wash over her body. The sting sent tingles up her spine to arms, giving them more energy, reviving them. Her body reacted with goosebumps.
"Thank you Daddy." She could not believe she was saying it aloud. Loud enough for him to hear. Her ears heard the swish of his clothes as he went to strike her again. Her ears heard the whoosh of the strap coming through the air toward her body. She relaxed waiting for the strike against her skin.
SMACK! "Thank you Daddy." This time it came from deep down within her. It came from a place she did not know existed inside her body. He was doing something no other man had done; he was stirring her soul. Her body was starving, demanding the next strike. It was a drug, she was longing for it.
SMACK! The wetness continued, increasing, flowing, oozing down her thighs. She felt the orgasm building from her soul. She wanted him. She wanted him to FUCK HER NOW!
"Oh yes. Thank you Daddy!" Her voice was a growl, like a wild animal. It was gruff.
SMACK! "Please fuck me Daddy! OH YES! THANK YOU DADDY!" Her body unleashed. She had never orgasmed without something stimulating her, rubbing her or entering her. She rubbed her thighs together, squeezing them. She felt her body tense. She felt all of her muscles contract. Letting out a low moan she wanted to see him, his face, feel his touch, feel his body against hers. She had never experienced anything like this before.
All of her senses were heightened. She could smell him, sense him, watching her. She wanted to be able to caress herself, squeeze her breasts, and twist her nipples. Now it was her drug, she was an addict. She craved more, wanted more, desired more.
"Please spank me again Daddy." She moaned. He complied. He struck her again.
SMACK!
"Thank you Daddy." She groaned from her the pit of her stomach.
SMACK!
"Oh Yes Daddy. You know what I like Daddy."
SMACK!
"Oh My God Daddy." She was on the verge on another one when he struck her for the last time.
"That is enough for the first day." He said as he placed the strip back on the wall. He allowed her time to get herself together. He untied her arms and wrapped her in a blanket. He picked her up and carried her in other room. Her body was trembling as he took the blanket off her. He gently, caringly placed her in the shower and turned it on. The water was warm and felt good against her body. He stripped down and got in the shower with her. He took the nozzle and rinsed her body.
First, he shampooed her hair, taking the time to make sure her hair was good and soapy. He then rinsed her hair, making sure he got all of the soap out. Next, he conditioned it, trying to get conditioner on every strand. He let the conditioner set on her hair. He grabbed a sponge, covered it with body wash and began to gently wash her body. He was very gentle with her. The complete opposite of how he was earlier. Treating her as if she was an infant. He made sure he washed every inch of her body. He rinsed the conditioner from her hair, just as he had with the shampoo. Making sure to rinse everything from her body.
Just as he had washed and rinsed her, he proceeded to dry her off her body. He took care not to aggravate the marks he had made on her ass. He inspected her to make sure he had not broken the skin. He had not. He put ointment on the marks to help them heal properly. He did not want to then to appear as abuse.
Once he was done, he wrapped her in a thick black terry cloth robe. It felt good against her skin. As before, he picked her up and carried her to the bed in the main room. He gently placed her on the bed.
"You may remove the robe with you like and get beneath the covers if you like." He said. His voice had changed. It now sounded warm and inviting, welcoming to her. It comforted her. She removed the robe and climbed under the covers. The bed was cool to her sensitive skin. She sheets were satin or silk, she could not tell for sure. They were all black. She let herself relax. He removed his robe and climbed into bed with her. He spooned up next to her, holding her close and tight, not too tight.
"This is called the after care. It is the time where the Dominate, me, takes care of the submissive, you. We will snuggle, cuddle, and pleasure each other until you are ready to leave." He whispered in her ear.
"Yes Daddy." She replied in a whisper. She snuggled back against him as he held her. Just like the first night they had made love, she felt a sense of comfort. She felt secure and safe. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
"Baby. Baby, you need to wake up," John said in a calm, quiet voice. Jessica was in a daze. She had forgotten where she was.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"A couple of hours, I think. I am not sure. As you can see, there are not any clocks in here." John replied. Jessica rolled over on her back so she was looking up at him.
"How long have you had this place?" Jessica asked.
"About 4 years. It was my grandparent's house. I just made some improvements."
"I see that. I like the improvements." Jessica said. The room was brighter now. She got a good look at everything in what was becoming her favorite place.
His Room of Pleasure and Pain
As she looked around the room, she got a good look at all the things he had for pleasure and pain. The rack appeared to be six and a half feet tall and six feet wide. It was made out of eight-inch square wooden beams. The stain on it gave it a dark brown finish. It appeared rough on the surface. It was actually smooth to the touch, almost slick.
Iron straps were placed evenly across the top as well as down the sides. Each strap had a thick iron ring welded to it. All of the ironwork appeared as if it came from the Middle Ages, rough, thick and black. However, like the wood, it was smooth to the touch. There were not any jagged edges.
Chains hung from the two of the top corners straps. Two chains were also attached at the bottom of the post, one on each side. Each chain had an "S" hook at the top to connect it to the black iron strap. Like the straps, the chain gave the appearance of rough Middle Aged wrought iron, black and course. Like everything else on the rack, it was just an appearance.
He had learned, the hard way, that rough meant injuries, unintended injuries, happened to the users. He had found that out the hard way. Injuries meant trips to the urgent care center or hospital emergency room. Twice he had to take a submissive to receive medical attention. That took all the fun out of the Domination experience. Both resulted in questions that HAD to be answered and explained to the attending doctors and nurses.
At the other end of the chains were leather cuffs with a buckle. These could be attached to either the wrist or the ankle, depending on the preference of the user. One chain had a cuff that appeared to be big enough to around someone's neck, if needed. John told Jessica that he had always wanted to use it. He never had and wondered if she would try on it. She politely declined.
The four-poster bed was made out of the same eight inch-square timbers. The top was covered in a black velvet or velour cloth that draped down over the sides about a foot on each side. Sheer black curtains that draped down from a railing along the inside of the top side timbers were tied at each corner post. The curtains were sheer enough to let in light from the room even when it was dimly lit.
The bed was assembled from notching the posts then connected them together with counter sunk bolts. Across the top of the bed, underneath the canopy were two beams that divide the top into four sections. Like the rest of the bed, the beams were connected by being notched in the middle and connected by black counter sunk bolts. In the very center of these beams was a large silver eyehook. It gleamed against the dark colors that surrounded it. Similar to the rack, straps were placed at the top of each post as even with the mattress. The headboard was padded and covered with dark leather that matched the color of the bed frame. A faux fur comforter on the bed covered black satin sheets; black satin pillowcases covered the four pillows on the bed. The bed was pushed against the back wall. Each side of the bed had a simple wooden nightstand.
Across the beam above the head and foot of the bed were bands or straps of iron just like the ones on the rack. They were evenly spaced with iron rings welded to them. Chains, similar to the ones on the rack, hung from each corner of the bedposts. They were secured to the posts, waiting and ready to be used. The walls on either side of the bed were lined with different pleasure and pain devices. Each item was neatly placed in its own spot on the wall. The items were placed as it they were on display in a museum. A museum of items used for domination and submission, pleasure and pain.
"What will you do with all this stuff when you decide to sell it?" Jessica asked.
