Part 9
Sarah lay naked on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her hands cuffed behind
her and her ankles lashed together. She wriggled in a vain attempt to get
comfortable. As she did, she felt the balls that Sir had pushed so deeply into
her cunt that morning roll inside her. Squirming in paroxysms of torturous
pleasure, she sang loudly to herself, trying desperately to block the sounds of
the relaxation tape playing softly and insistently in the background.
A waterfall.
That's what the CD was playing, the maddening, relentless sound of a tumbling,
churning waterfall. Recorded birds sang in the background and at any other time,
in any other place, the sounds would have been exactly as the composer intended
them to be - relaxing. But not now, not here. Now, it was torture, pure and
simple.
Before leaving for work that morning, S looked at her over his newspaper with a
dangerous glint in his eye as Sarah prepared his breakfast. Blissfully unaware
and humming softly as she peeled, chopped and diced, Sarah knew she was the
happiest woman in the world.
"Loads of fresh fruit, Sir, and look!" she crowed, brandishing a bowl of deep
red strawberries for his inspection."First pickings from the garden, I can't
believe they did so well, I was sure the insects would get them all!"
Carrying on a steady stream of chatter, her breasts bouncing under her apron as
she went about her work, she added the strawberries to the fruit salad, tipped a
pot of yogurt over the top, scooped out a passionfruit to sweeten the deal, and
put the bowl in front of him.
"You're not eating?" he asked, digging in.
"No, Sir, if it pleases you, Sir, I'll eat a bit later. I'm not hungry right
now, but I'll make a coffee. Would you like one?" Sarah turned to get the coffee
beans from the freezer.
"No thanks," he replied. "You're not having one, either."
Sarah stopped in her tracks, her reaching hand frozen in mid-air.
"Uh, as you wish, Sir," she said, suddenly unsure. After months together, he
still had the power to catch her off guard and it always rattled her. She never
knew what to expect from him. Sarah had relinquished total control to him. He
told her what he wanted, when he wanted it. And, without question, she did it.
"Are you thirsty, slut?" he asked mildly, amused at her uncertainty.
"Mmm, well, not really," she answered, truthfully.
Sarah had also learned not to second guess him, or tell him what she thought he
wanted to hear. It had been a long process fraught with difficulty, but he'd
finally trained her not to do it. She had the scars on her ass from a couple of
canings to prove it.
"I just wanted my morning caffeine fix, is all."
"Water," mused S. "I don't think you drink enough water, do you?"
"I've never really thought about it, Sir," replied Sarah.
"Well, I have. And, I've decided you don't drink enough. So, right here, right
now, you're going to drink a litre of it before I go. Make it snappy, I don't
have long."
Obeying instantly, Sarah went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of mineral
water. Breaking the seal and pouring the liquid into a glass, she settled at the
table opposite her Master and began drinking. S watched her down the first
glass, and start on the second. Halfway through, she put the glass down and
sighed.
"I'm just not used to drinking so much..."
"Shut the fuck up and drink. Don't speak unless you're spoken to."
Sarah winced at the ice in his voice and hastily gulped the water, forcing it
down her throat, though her belly was filling rapidly and she was almost full.
At last, the litre was finished and she set the glass down, wondering what was
next.
"Clear the table. Move everything off. Do it now."
Sarah leapt to her feet, collecting dishes and cutlery and glasses. Two trips to
the sink, and everything was gone.
"May I?" she asked timidly, reaching for S' discarded newspaper.
"Put it on the counter, then take your apron off and lie on the table, knees up,
legs spread," he snapped.
Sarah hurried to do his bidding. She felt a desperate urge to pee as she
scurried across the room, paper in hand.
"Sir?" she asked, flushing with embarrassment.
"What?" he answered a look of annoyance flitting across his face. "I see you're
still not on that fucking table yet! Don't piss me off, slut," he warned.
"Please, Sir, may I go to the toilet first?" she asked, hopping from foot to
foot. The water had passed through her at a rate of knots; she was dying to go.
S' eyes gleamed.
"No," he said decisively. "Just do as you're fucking told."
Sarah clambered onto the table, sliding herself down so her ass was in the
centre. Spreading her legs and raising her knees, she hoped, hoped, hoped he'd
get whatever he was doing with her over and done with quickly, because she was
sure she was going to wet herself.
S traced a finger along the bare, shaved lips of her pussy. Sarah shivered; she
loved it when he touched her. She was instantly wet, her lips glistening juicily
in the morning sun as he parted her folds with his long fingers, probing between
them.
"Wet, you're always fucking wet," he sneered, pushing his fingers into her.
"Yes, Sir," she moaned, because she was.
"Such a little slut, just one big cunt," he said, shrugging off his jacket and
draping it over one of the chairs. Pulling a set of Chinese balls from his
pocket, he weighed them in the palm of his hand as he watched Sarah wriggle on
the smooth, wooden tabletop.
Rubbing the balls against her wetness, he slid the first one deep into her with
one rough movement, pushing and pushing until it would go no further. He gave
the second ball a gentle tug, laughing as Sarah groaned in pleasurable
discomfort.
"Problem?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, Sir, I like it, Sir, but I need to go to the toilet, Sir," said Sarah, her
belly full and uncomfortable. She was sure she could feel the ball pressing
against her distended bladder.
"I don't give a shit whether you like it or not, or whether you need to go to
the toilet," said S evenly, as he pushed the second ball slowly into her warm,
wet cunt. His fingers poked the ball deep inside her, not stopping until it met
the first one with a soft click.
Sarah moaned in desperation. She knew she'd be in worlds of trouble if she wet
herself on the table, especially if she wet S. He was so particular about his
clothes and he would definitely not appreciate having one of his favourite suits
urinated on.
"Up," he ordered, and Sarah rose with relief. Ordinarily, she'd be begging to be
allowed to cum by now but she was distracted by her need to pee. She felt the
balls roll deliciously inside her as she moved.
"Please may I got to the bathroom now, Sir?" she asked, her big eyes looking at
him pleadingly.
"Why not. Sounds like a good idea," said S. "In fact, I'll come with you."
Sarah flushed with embarrassment. Was he going to watch her go? She wasn't sure
she liked that idea at all.
"Hurry up!" he snarled, pushing her towards the door. "I haven't got all day."
Sarah hurried down the corridor towards the bathroom, her bare ass wiggling as
she did. Not that she even noticed, she was used to being mostly naked these
days.
"Wait!" instructed S, just as she reached the door.
Sarah froze, but turned and looked at him questioningly. "Can I just go to..."
"Shut up. Hands behind your back," said S, ignoring her half-asked question and
plucking a pair of steel handcuffs from his pocket. Sarah complied, but silently
wondered what else he had secreted about his person. First the balls, now these!
She flinched as the harsh steel encircled her wrists.
"On the floor, face down" he commanded, opening one of the bathroom cupboards
and extracting a length of chain.
Sarah dropped to her knees, then lay down. She shivered as her breasts squashed
against the cold tiles, her skin pricking with gooseflesh as S bent down and
attached one end of the chain to the collar she wore permanently around her
neck. Attaching the other end of the chain to the towel rail, he pulled on the
link to check it was secure. It was. Then, whipping off his tie, he lashed her
ankles together tightly.
"I'll be back around lunchtime. If I see any evidence you've tried to escape,
the consequences will be severe," he threatened. "Clear?"
"Yes Sir," whispered Sarah.
"You know that's one of my favourite ties, don't you? It would be a shame if it
were...ruined."
Sarah looked down. It was indeed one of his favourites.
"Yes, Sir," she agreed, immediately recognising the unspoken message.
"Right then, we understand each other. I'm going, have fun."
Sarah listened as his footsteps receded. In a final devilish act, S detoured
past the lounge, slipped a CD in the CD player and flicked it on. Sarah groaned
as the sounds of the waterfall flooded through the air - the stereo system fed
into all the rooms in the house through concealed speakers, including the
bathroom. Then, he was gone.
Sarah lay quietly on the bathroom floor for several minutes after the noise of
the car disappeared down the drive. Driven to distraction by the uncomfortable
fullness in her bladder made even worse by the relentless sound of the
waterfall, she began to test her bonds. There was no way she could make it until
lunchtime to go to the toilet. Besides, she hadn't been told she couldn't go to
the toilet, she reasoned. All she'd been told was that she couldn't escape. So,
if she could make it the loo still chained, lashed and handcuffed, she wouldn't
be disobeying.
Flipping onto her back, Sarah sat up with a degree of difficulty. Inching
awkwardly along the tiles on her bottom, Sarah struck out for the toilet in the
corner of the bathroom. The balls inside her cunt rolled and tumbled as she
moved, sending waves of pleasure through her. A warning tug on her collar
stopped her. She realised with distress that the chain didn't reach far as the
toilet, she was mere inches away, but there was nowhere near enough chain to let
her get to the loo. She was stuck.
Sarah decided to make the best of a bad situation. Resigned to her plight, she
settled down for a long wait, but the floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable,
the music was driving her mad, and her desire to pee was getting stronger by the
minute. She wriggled around, trying to hold it in, and every time she did, the
balls rolled inside her, increasing her torment. An hour crawled by, then two.
Sarah realised S had the CD on repeat, because it played over and over again.
There was no escape, no end to her misery.
The minutes ticked by, each one an age, and Sarah's thighs began to ache from
clenching them so tightly together to stop herself from peeing. Three hours into
her torment, and Sarah couldn't hold on any longer. In desperation, she thought
about letting a little, just a little urine loose. Perhaps if she did, she
reasoned, the awful pressure would ease a bit. The thought was tempting but she
was mindful of wetting S' favourite tie - he would discipline her harshly if she
spoiled it. But she could bear it no longer. Relaxing a little, she allowed a
thin stream to trickle out of her distended bladder and it was all she could do
to stop before she released the lot in a warm yellow puddle on the bathroom
tiles.
It made things worse. Her bladder was awake and screaming now, demanding to be
emptied. She wriggled frantically on the floor, the balls tipping and turning
inside her, taunting and teasing her. And still the music played, driving her to
distraction. Sarah cried with frustration and helplessness, her hair plastered
to her forehead in damp strands as she tried valiantly to control herself.
Finally, the sound of tyres crunching on the gravel outside. The door opening,
then S' footsteps on the floor. He loomed in the bathroom doorway, surveying his
frantic, captive slave.
"Please, Sir, please let me go to the bathroom!" begged Sarah, her face red and
tearstained.
"Please!"
S clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.
"Such impatience, such rudeness! You didn't even ask about my morning," he
sighed, furrowing his brow with an injured expression. Sarah swore she could see
a small crocodile tear gathering in the corner of his eye.
"How was your morning, Sir?" she asked politely through gritted teeth, every
movement now a mixture of exquisite agony and delight.
"Hmm, not bad," S replied conversationally. "I'm gonna get a drink, you want
one?" He eyed her craftily as he moved toward the sink, his hand hovering over
the tooth glass on the vanity.
"Please, Sir, please let me go to the toilet!" wailed Sarah, certain she
couldn't hold on much longer. It had been hours, she was desperate.
"We've had this conversation before, I'm sure, but I'll remind you because I'm
such a nice guy," said S, running the tap and slowly filling his glass. He
didn't turn it off and the sound of trickling water bounced through the room,
adding to Sarah's torment.
"It's not about what you want, is it?"
"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir" cried Sarah. She was going to wet herself, she just
knew it.
"Glad we got it sorted," said S, crouching beside Sarah with the glass of water.
He put it to her lips.
"Drink it."
S tipped the water slowly into Sarah's mouth, spilling some of it over her
breasts and belly. Sarah groaned in protest as she felt her bladder heave
threateningly.
"Good girl," murmured S as she finished. "I"ll untie you, you may relieve
yourself."
Sarah sighed in gratitude as he unlocked her cuffs, then untied her ankles, and
then released the chain from her collar. She lurched to her feet, her muscles
stiff and aching after so long in bondage. She made for the toilet in
desperation, the balls rolling madly in her cunt, she was almost there, the end
was in sight.
"Stop!" snapped S, icily.
Sarah stopped inches from the toilet, her face a mask of agony as she hopped
from foot to foot.
"In the bath. Crouch and piss in the bath."
Sarah blushed deep, crimson red, her hand fluttering about her throat as she
heard his instruction. She was desperate to go, so desperate she'd use the
toilet in front of him but... pee in the bath? Waves of humiliation swept over
Sarah as she stood before him like a rabbit transfixed in headlights.
"I...I can't!" she stuttered, she'd never gone to the bathroom in front of
anyone before!
"Do it now."
Sarah climbed into the bath and crouched on the porcelain bottom, balancing
herself on the rim with her hands.
"Spread your legs and remove the balls. Do not wet yourself until I tell you to
do so."
Sarah tugged gently on the string protruding from her pussy. The balls shifted
slightly, the movement angering her bursting bladder. Pulling a little more
firmly, she winced in pleasurable discomfort as the first ball popped from her
pussy. She resisted the overwhelming urge to pee as she pulled the second ball
free.
Silence hung in the air for long moments.
"Piss for me, slut."
Sarah fought an intense internal battle between the shame and humiliation of
submitting to S' instruction, and the urge to retain her dignity. Submission,
encouraged by her overloaded bladder, won. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she
sighed in palpable relief as she released herself. Warm urine flowed down her
thighs and splashed against her feet as she squatted before her Master in a
puddle of her own waste.
"I think you should thank me for granting you relief."
"Thank you Sir," whispered Sarah, honestly grateful to him for allowing her to
pee at last.
S wrinkled his nose almost delicately as the sharp smell of urine reached his
nose.
"You've pleased me. My favourite tie remains unsoiled, and you did well to
remain under my control for so many hours in my absence. Clean up your mess,
then shower. I'm going back to work, I expect the house to be spotless when I
return."
Sarah set about her tasks, washing, ironing, cleaning. The afternoon passed
quickly and the afternoon sun was fading into dusky twilight when S returned.
Sarah greeted him at the door, her face creased in smiles as she danced around
him, chattering about her afternoon. In her rush of excitement, she didn't
notice he was strangely quiet, distracted.
"Take this and go and get changed, Sarah," ordered S at last, pouring them a
glass of wine. "You know what I like. I'll be waiting in the lounge."
After showering and dressing, Sarah presented herself almost shyly to S, the
shame of relieving herself in front of him still fresh in her memory as she
stood before him.
"Turn for me, slowly," he said coolly as he sipped slowly from his glass of
wine, soft music playing on the stereo. Vanilla candles cast flickering shadows
on the walls, the scent of incense lingered lightly in the air.
Dressed in nothing but her collar, black nylon stockings, a black garter belt,
and a lacy black half cup bra that molded her swelling breasts, black patent
heels on her feet, Sarah spun slowly before him, eyes lowered in submission. Her
cheeks were flushed with the natural glow of humiliation and subservience, her
lips lush and red, her hair a soft, golden cloud of loose, blond waves around
her shoulders. The lace topped stockings and garter belt framed her hairless
pussy in an erotic triangle, her wrinkled lips puffy and moist, black nylon
contrasting starkly against her pale skin.
"Again," he said as she completed a full circle before him, and she obeyed as
his eyes caressed her, seeing everything, missing nothing.
"You're beautiful, baby," he said softly, rising to his feet and kissing her as
she melted into him, merging with her Master.
"We've never danced, you and I," he whispered, his lips warm against her ear as
he bent his head and nipped the delicate skin of her neck lightly, sending
tingles through her body.
"No, Sir, we haven't," she said softly, snaking her arms around him, holding him
close, her soft curves against his hard body.
"I love you, Sir," murmured Sarah, looking up at him, her eyes limpid pools of
devotion.
"I know."
Sarah shivered as he gazed into her soul with his blue, blue eyes.
"You're mine," he said, fingering the collar fastened around her neck. "I love
you."
They danced then, Master and slave, moving slowly and sinuously to the sounds of
Gershwin, their hearts seemingly beating in time with the notes that wafted on
the air. The world shrunk, all that existed was this time, this place. Nothing
could touch them.
"Come," said S at last, leading Sarah to the sofa, her small hand caught in his.
Sitting down, he laid her across his lap, her ass high and round. He rubbed his
palms over her soft, smooth globes and she wriggled beneath him, instantly wet.
He spanked her rhythmically, each spank cracking through the air and Sarah
groaned with pleasure, her skin glowing with the heat of his hands. S slipped
two fingers into her pussy, still spanking her as he felt her clench around his
fingers, sucking him in. Each spank causing her to graze against his thumb,
resting lightly on her swollen clit.
His fingers still buried deep inside her, S slid his other hand up and down her
nylon-encased legs, his skin rasping against the nylon of her stockings. Then,
reaching between the cushions of the couch, he pulled out a small silver dagger,
its blade glinting wickedly in the glow of the candlelight.
"Keep still, baby," he murmured, reaching down and pressing the blade against
her skin. Sarah remained motionless and transfixed as he drew the blade up the
back of her Achilles tendon, then over her calf, up to the top of her stocking
clad thigh, the nylon parting with an almost imperceptible hiss as black
gossamer gave way to smooth, white skin.
Slipping a third finger into her soaking pussy, S started on Sarah's other leg,
this time a little more pressure and Sarah sighed as the blade melted through
black nylon and bit into her skin, this time leaving a thin red trail of blood
in the knife's wake as once more her stocking gave way to flesh. The sting of
the cut mingled with the pleasure of S' fingers in her cunt and his thumb on her
clit and Sarah sank deeply into space, down, down, down.
The stockings were ruined now, drifting loose from the garter belt and S turned
Sarah gently onto her back then moved out from under her, leaving her lying
prone on the sofa. Unzipping his pants, he stepped out of them and shrugged his
shirt over his head, standing naked and hard before Sarah, who drank him in with
desperate eyes. Kneeling before the couch, he slipped his hands under Sarah's
ass, positioning her.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," he growled, raising her legs so they were
thrown over his shoulders, her pussy open and exposed. Penetration, when it
came, was long and slow and relentless as he pushed into her wet cunt, spreading
her open as she writhed on his cock. Impaled, Sarah moaned as she urged him
deeper and deeper, her hips bucking as he fucked her, his fingers playing on her
juice soaked clit. S increased his pace, filling her completely, thrusting into
her over and over, harder and harder as she gasped for breath.
Then, together, they were cumming, pushed over the edge as their senses crashed
around them like shattering glass, Sarah's pussy contracting like a vice around
S' cock as he flooded her with stream after stream of cum, groaning. Crying
helplessly, Sarah screamed his name, screamed her love for him as the waves of
passion rocked over them, swallowing them, drowning them.
Later that night, Sarah nestled warmly against her Master as they lay in their
big bed, insulated in a cocoon of Dominance and submission.
"Sarah?" said S, gently shaking her shoulder, then slipped one of his fingers
under her collar, tracing her skin lightly beneath the leather.
"Mmm?" sighed Sarah, sleepily.
"I have news. I have to go away for a while, I leave in a week, we'll talk about
it tomorrow, okay?"
"'K," Sarah murmured, drifting into sleep.
For long moments, S watched her, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on her
breasts rising and falling gently as she breathed.
Then, wiping a trace of moisture from his cheek in an impatient gesture, he held
Sarah close as he, too, sank into oblivion.
