My body is anticipating the next one. My stomach tightens up as I'm forced to breathe through my nostrils, the ball gag snug enough to cut off air to my mouth effectively. Its quiet save the hiss of me struggling for breath.
Then-
The slap of the leather paddle across my cheeks causes me to jerk, yanking the chain that suspends me from the ceiling. I sag knowing it can support my weight though the leather restraints bite into my wrists.
"Don't cum. You're not allowed."
I blink back sudden tears as I look past my wrists tied to the iron bar that the chain is connected to. Its torture. The pain is so delicious and sudden that I have to catch my breath.
"You're close aren't you?" He comes over and a smooth brown hand pulls at one of my nipple piercings causing me to groan and my legs to buckle beneath me before I can stand properly again. My friend chuckles from the shadows.
"I've never seen someone respond to pain like you do." He hits my ass again with the leather paddle. I stand straight up and start to rub my thighs together before I know what I'm doing.
I'm so close... "The Master told you not to cum."
I almost forgot. My eyes flutter and I can see her indistinct shape as she circles behind me, conveniently out of the light of the candles giving soft light to the room..
She thrusts her fingers into me then rubs them down my thighs confirming how wet I am. "It was touch and go for a moment but I told you Master that she'd make a good Slave."
He chuckled. His voice was rich and smooth and vaguely British. "That you did my Apprentice but to be honest, I didn't expect you to pick so well on your first try."
"Thank you Master." To me she says. "Stand up." Its hard for me to do so and its not because I'm tired or weak. Its because they haven't let me cum in an hour. They've brought me back and forth to the edge with their paddling and pinching. They're working me like I want to be worked. Teasing me just enough to get me close. I'm standing, toes squeaking against the wood floor. Her Master is in front of me. His grin isn't leery. Its like that of a professor who's trying not to be too delighted in his pupil. He lifts my chin to meet his gray-green eyes then says, "Begin."
I hear the click then subsequent buzz of a bullet as she whispers in my ear.
"Don't cum."
"You're in you know."
"Am I?"
"Is that not what I just said?"
Meg tried to sound surly but a smile blossomed on her face regardless. I was eating with her between classes at Seminole State in front of the library. Meg didn't go to school because she didn't need to. The sleeves she's got were both done by her, including a few of my discreet tattoos. I was wondering why she had come out to see me. "Well, um, what happens now?"
"You come to the place the next time we gather and you put yourself out there as a Slave."
"What if I don't want to be a sub?" Meg laughed hard at that. I could spy her tongue piercings, one of many she had,one being put in traditionally while the other was through the side.
"Then maybe you'll want to be a hamburger." I didn't laugh at that stupid joke but she did earning the stares of students passing by from their classes. "But seriously, you can't. Nobody does but its cool, you don't do anything or let anything happen that you don't want to."
"But I have to be a Slave?"
"Its not like that's a stretch for you cutie pitooty." She laughed stroking my chin lightly with one black finger nail. Its one of those gestures that could be considered more than friendly but I decide not to reproach her on it. "You know you like to be used."
"Meg."
"The fuck you worried about people overhearing for?" Meg may have the guts to be out there but I didn't. I didn't look like her; hazel eyes, dark hair shaved on the sides with the rest pulled into a ponytail. You were more pressed to find a place she hadn't pierced or inked but she had a shape, mostly bottom heavy but her stature made it more noticeable so that you often glazed over that. Her father was white but she got her Puerto Rican mother's dimensions if not her command of the language. She was an army brat until her father started working in the private sector. You could tell by how easy she could talk to everyone.
Confident, intelligent, funny, inviting.
Everything I was not. "I just don't want people in my business."
Meg laughed harder at that. "People have to know who you are to be in your business Amy."
I've never been noticeable.
If you looked at any picture I've taken, the first thing you would notice is that.. I often get asked where I am in my own photos. I usually point to the back, typically looking over the shoulders of two more attractive, outgoing people, peeking in to show my face to a camera that will hardly pick anything up of me save my glasses.
I suppose its my fault for not being able to open up about myself; I honestly don't think anyone would be interested in me. I watch science fiction and foreign films. I like sushi over burgers. I read more than I watch television, if at all.
Plus I'm plain and stereotypical; chubby black girl that's into weird things because everyone already thinks she's weird. I was never black enough for black people and never cool amongst my white friends. I was always the third wheel, the girl that was easy to talk to only because you had no intention of dating her.
Few people know what it means to truly be a nobody, not to feel coveted or valuable. There's no feeling worst than that.
At first, I sought out anyone who took notice. Older boys. Older men. Married men. Most of those encounters were unsatisfying to say the least. But then, I found someone who wanted me. Who wanted to use me through and through. Do things to me I never thought possible. Tied me up. Pulled my hair. Fucked my mouth and everything in between.
He took control. Took what he wanted and gave me what I wanted.
Ever since then, I've been into the BDSM lifestyle more or less, experimenting here and there with mostly older white males. Guys that like to be call "daddy" or "master". I don't do it as often as I want though. Central Florida is not good for people into the life; there are few if any clubs for people to gather at.
Then Meg told me about the Underneath.
She told me that I could get in if three people recommended me, which I found strange but seeing as I was in need of experiencing like-minded individuals, I bit. It took all of a week for me to be approved. I was given a special code to get on their website where I was given the lay of the rules. There are three types of swingers at the Underneath, Masters, Apprentices, and Slaves. Everyone starts as a Slave it seems and Slaves are basically that. They are the servants, the used, the people you play with. Apprentices are second tier and must be chosen by a Master to be taught to be one. A Master is someone experienced in the lifestyle to the extent that they teach others and enrich others experiences. They are expected to train, to teach, and to motivate.
I was intrigued to say the least, especially seeing as the code came with an outfit, or should I say, what passes for an outfit for a Slave. It was a French maid's apron and...that was it. It was demeaning, sexist, downright disrespectful...
I had the best orgasm of life in it, thinking about what they were going to get me to do and how they'd make me like it.
I've never been noticeable.
If you looked at any picture I've taken, the first thing you would notice is that.. I often get asked where I am in my own photos. I usually point to the back, typically looking over the shoulders of two more attractive, outgoing people, peeking in to show my face to a camera that will hardly pick anything up of me save my glasses.
I suppose its my fault for not being able to open up about myself; I honestly don't think anyone would be interested in me. I watch science fiction and foreign films. I like sushi over burgers. I read more than I watch television, if at all.
Plus I'm plain and stereotypical; chubby black girl that's into weird things because everyone already thinks she's weird. I was never black enough for black people and never cool amongst my white friends. I was always the third wheel, the girl that was easy to talk to only because you had no intention of dating her.
Few people know what it means to truly be a nobody, not to feel coveted or valuable. There's no feeling worst than that.
At first, I sought out anyone who took notice. Older boys. Older men. Married men. Most of those encounters were unsatisfying to say the least. But then, I found someone who wanted me. Who wanted to use me through and through. Do things to me I never thought possible. Tied me up. Pulled my hair. Fucked my mouth and everything in between.
He took control. Took what he wanted and gave me what I wanted.
Ever since then, I've been into the BDSM lifestyle more or less, experimenting here and there with mostly older white males. Guys that like to be call "daddy" or "master". I don't do it as often as I want though. Central Florida is not good for people into the life; there are few if any clubs for people to gather at.
Then Meg told me about the Underneath.
She told me that I could get in if three people recommended me, which I found strange but seeing as I was in need of experiencing like-minded individuals, I bit. It took all of a week for me to be approved. I was given a special code to get on their website where I was given the lay of the rules. There are three types of swingers at the Underneath, Masters, Apprentices, and Slaves. Everyone starts as a Slave it seems and Slaves are basically that. They are the servants, the used, the people you play with. Apprentices are second tier and must be chosen by a Master to be taught to be one. A Master is someone experienced in the lifestyle to the extent that they teach others and enrich others experiences. They are expected to train, to teach, and to motivate.
I was intrigued to say the least, especially seeing as the code came with an outfit, or should I say, what passes for an outfit for a Slave. It was a French maid's apron and...that was it. It was demeaning, sexist, downright disrespectful...
I had the best orgasm of life in it, thinking about what they were going to get me to do and how they'd make me like it.
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