Again the strong arms helped her to stand. She was half led, half carried a few steps, and a door was opened. She felt her blouse thrust into her hands and the mask whisked from her head, but before she could turn to see him, the door closed. She heard the click of the lock slide into place. She had failed the test. He was sending her away. She slid the blouse over her shoulders noticing that her tits were rock hard. As she slid her tender ass onto the leather seat, she felt her pussy overflow onto the seat. She pushed the button on the garage door opener and backed the car out, wondering what she had done wrong. What had he expected? How had she failed him?
As she pulled onto the quiet street to drive away, her cell phone rang. Seeing the familiar number on the caller ID, she thought maybe she hadn’t failed the test after all. Her fingers trembled as she punched the button to answer the cell phone. "You may return." "Yes, Sir," she said softly, but before she could get the words out, she heard the click of disconnect.
Timidly and with great trepidation she stepped back into the house. The interior was dark save a light coming from a distant room in the back of the house. Drawn towards the light she moved down the hall. "Hello?" she called out softly into the quiet of the house. She knew that her nervous voice would not carry, but she felt a bit like an intruder as she made her way through the dark and unfamiliar house. She paused in the doorway of the lit room and once again spoke timidly, "Hello?"
"There you are," he said rising from the desk chair where he had been looking at a computer screen. His voice was casual and somewhat dismissive. As he stepped to her, he reached out with two hands and grasped both side of her blouse, yanking the front apart, sending buttons flying. "You won’t be needing this," he said as he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her forward. His casual touch and polite disinterested tone was in dramatic contrast to the contents of the room and the object to which he was guiding her.
She was being directed to a cage. The container was cube shaped, about 3 feet on each side. It was constructed of cyclone fencing, interlacing strips of metal with gaps large enough to grasp with her nervous fingers. "Kneel inside," he instructed as he opened the door. She bent deeply at the waist to fit into the cage. She was painfully aware that her ass was fully exposed to him as she stepped awkwardly into the container. Immediately, she sank to her knees gazing forlornly through the metal.
"Come all the way to the edge and press your tits up against the metal. Ah, lovely," he said as her nipples extended through the gap. Picking up a pair of clothes pins from the top of the cage, he clipped each nipple to the fence-like metal of the cage. "You’ll need to remain very still," he instructed. "If the clips fall off, I’ll be very unhappy. You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you, slut?" he asked, looking deeply into her eyes for the first time. As she gazed back into the eyes of her tormentor, she realized that she did very much want to please him. This was why she was here, and why she had given him license to do whatever he wished to her body. And actually, she was rather enjoying the thrill of being in a strange place with a strange man, the feeling of exposure as she knelt nearly naked in a cage smaller that the one she used for her German Shepherd, and the pain of clips on her tits ... they all combined to arouse her and she didn’t want it to stop. So gazing back into his eyes she replied, "This slut is willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy, sir."
"Good," he said, giving one of the clips a little flick as he stepped away and returned to the desk. He sat looking at the computer screen, using the mouse. She couldn’t see what he was looking at on the monitor, so she used the opportunity to look around the room.
Dungeon ... it was the only word to describe this room. The desk and the computer were the only "normal" pieces of furniture. Although the room was neat and tidy, it was crowded with the kinds of objects she had only seen in pictures. In addition to the cage in which she was now confined, there was a free-standing cross pushed into one corner. Was that a St. Andrews cross, she wondered? Would he bind her to it at some point and torment her helpless body? There was a padded bench and two straight back wooden chairs. There were several drawers and cabinets built into the walls, the contents of which were hidden from her view. However, the walls were lined with neatly hung implements of all sorts. She saw ropes and chairs, whips and floggers.
Before she could begin to really take it in, he stood from the computer and walked back to her cage. "You’ve done very well," he said removing the clothespins from her nipples. She winced as each nipple was freed. "Isn’t that a nice little treat for a pain slut like you," he said reaching through the fencing to touch her tits. She moaned as he firmly rubbed and pinched each tender nipple, leaning her head against the cage trying to get closer to him.
"Come along now," he said giving her tits a last pinch. Opening the cage door he said, "It’s time for you to choose your torment." With the polite hand once again on the small of her naked back, he guided her to the computer. "Kneel there, in front of the screen," he said pulling the desk chair up close behind her so she was kneeling between his spread knees. With one hand he reached around her to grasp the mouse while the other nonchalantly stroked her breast.
With a gasp of surprise she saw the screen saver disappear and her own profile from Bondage.com come up on the screen. He clicked on the icon marked favorites and her favorite pictures came up on the screen. The thumbnail size pictures were visible along the left side of the screen and the comments she’d written in a column to the right. "I’ve selected three of these that I find particularly interesting. Let me show you my favorites from among your favorites." Obviously familiar with the pictures, he quickly scrolled through and selected one to enlarge.
A big breasted woman was seated in a chair. He arms were tied behind her back with white rope. Similar rope was secured to each naked thigh securing her legs to the chair and ensuring they were wide open and her neatly shaved pussy was visible. A ball gag was secure between her teeth and buckled around her head. More white rope had been cruelly tied around her breasts. Her large tits oozed over and under the rope. The rope cut directly across one nipple, but the other was exposed. A flogger was visible in the picture lashing the exposed nipple. The woman’s head was thrown back, a look of exquisite pain mingled with pleasure on her face.
He gave Grace a few minutes to look at the familiar picture. How different it was to see it from this prospective. Kneeling in front of her would-be tormentor, she wondered why he called her attention to this particular picture. Was he thinking of torturing her tits in a similar fashion? Would she enjoy it as much as the model obviously was?
"This is another of your favorites that I’m particularly fond of," he said, rapidly scrolling through and then bringing up another picture. This woman was bound spread eagle. Her arms were pulled as far out as possible from her body and shackled. Her legs were also spread as wide as possible, well beyond comfort. Some sort of small slapper was visible in the picture. The reddened area around her naked and exposed pussy made it clear that she was receiving a thorough cunt slapping. The agony on her face was exquisite.
The next picture was again well into some session. The girl’s arms were bound over her head, the means invisible outside the frame. In her mouth was a bit, some sort of pony gag. She had drooled extensively around the bit, and you could see moisture from her mouth running down onto her chest. Her tits had been elaborately bound with rope wrapped around each breast several times. She had apparently been in this breast bondage for some time because her poor breasts were so engorged they were purple in color. Each nipple stood out dramatically hard and elongated. There was another rope wrapped around her waist and passed between her legs. Given how tight her tits were wrapped, Grace could only suppose that the rope in her cunt was tight against her clit, probably rubbing and abrading it with each movement. The black garb of her torturer was visible as he stood behind her holding her head up by her hair. A flogger was visible against her tits. Perhaps that’s why they were so purple, from the thorough beating they had received.
Looking at each of these pictures in turn was incredibly arousing. They were her favorites and she had stared at them many times trying to imagine what each must feel like. Now, seeing them like this, with this man absent-mindedly stroking her tits while they looked together made her wet with excitement. It was humiliating and invasive, as if he were looking into her most secret fantasies and desires.
"Now this one," he said scrolling to another picture, "I notice you have on here more than once. You must really like this." In imitation of the picture he firmly grasped each nipple pulling her heavy breasts up, and higher up, supporting their weight only by their nipples. Grace moaned deep in her throat, her head falling back to rest on her tormentor’s chest. Little squeaks of pain escaped with each breath as she struggled to breathe through the unexpected and intense pain. Up and higher still he pulled her tits, squeezing the nipples ever tighter. "You take it, bitch," he growled in her ear. "You take the pain I give you."
Grace felt a part of herself fall away as she embraced the pain. That part of her mind that races all the time, that is always trying to think, to anticipate, to work, to fix, to plan, to please ... simply dropped away as she surrendered and sank into the pain.
"Very nice," he said, feeling the difference in her body as she surrendered and embraced the pain. This was an unexpected bonus, a woman who could enter so quickly into sub space, who did so almost automatically. To give her more time to float, he continued to pull hard on her tits, beginning to roll the nipples between his strong fingers. She began to moan again, but very softly as if from somewhere far away. "Very nice," he repeated as he slowly began to release her. She whined in protest, wanting to float on and on. But he continued, very slowly, one millimeter at a time to lower her tits then slowly to release his pinching grip on her nipples. Reaching around to cradle her, he pulled her back against his chest. Speaking quietly he stroked her face and smoothed her hair. "There, wasn’t that a nice interlude? But come back now Grace, you still need to choose your evening’s torment from the four pictures we’ve seen."
