A Religious Experience

We've just finished the most romantic dinner I've had in a loooong time. The food was excellent, the mood was perfect, and I feel cherished and protected. I gaze at you over my wineglass; your face positively sparkles in the candle light. Music plays softly in the background. I feel a great surge of pride in knowing that you belong to me. You look wonderful, in a starched white shirt and a solemn navy blue tie, with a grin on your face that says you're enjoying owning me, in my black halter dress and diamonds, as much as I'm enjoying owning you. We haven't spoken during the meal except for the usual niceties; I think we're both afraid of ruining the magic. So we simply gaze at each other across the table, saying with our eyes the things that we don't need to say with our mouths. Suddenly, a twinkle appears in your eye, and you break the silence.

"Get up. Get your wrap." I look startled, but decide not to argue; you look like you have something up your sleeve that I'll enjoy. The diamonds on my wrist flash as I put down my glass and rise from the table. I look a question at you; you decline to answer, instead looking at me with that twinkle of amusement that I've grown to love.

I pick my wrap up off the couch as you grab my elbow to escort me out of the apartment. It's not a rough grasp, but gentle, firm, and possessive, like you have the exclusive right to have your hand there and you know it, so you don't need to prove it with excessive violence. We walk out and you release me to lock the door. I throw the velvet wrap around my shoulders as you do this. Then you take my arm again and we walk out to your car.

When we reach the car, you open my door but stop me before I get in. You pull a strip of black silk out of the pocket of your suit coat.

"I want you to wear this, where we are going is a surprise," you say as you tie it around my eyes. I emit a little chuckle in the back of my throat, I have a feeling that it's going to be a long night and we're both going to love it. Once the blindfold is secure over my eyes, you help me into the car and into my seatbelt, then close the door and walk around the car. I resist the urge to lift up the bottom of the silk and peek; I know where we are, and it's a symbol of trust and a sign of my self control that my hands are not bound and yet I leave the blindfold alone. However, the grin that erupted onto my face when you pulled it out of your pocket hasn't left yet. I'm very excited, and I tell you so when you ask as you get in the car. You laugh at me.

"Is there reason for me to be excited?" I ask, slightly bitchily.

"Of course," you say. "Anything that requires a blindfold is exciting. I thought you knew that."

"I do know that. Quit laughing at me."

"Yes, Ma'am," you say as you laugh louder. I shut up, slightly peeved at your mocking tone but too excited to make a big deal out of it now. You start the car and put it in gear, and we begin to move. While we're driving, I can only think of the people passing us and what they must think to look over and see a girl smiling in the passenger seat with a blindfold over her eyes. I imagine the shocked faces of the old ladies, the leering rednecks, the curious, pointing children and their appalled parents. I wonder if anyone will call the police, and the thought of us getting pulled over because I'm in the car blindfolded is highly erotic. I've been moist up to this point, now I'm getting sloppy wet. My thong is soaked already, I suspect that there's a wet spot on the back of my dress, and my thighs slide together over a layer of lubricant.

"So where are we going?" I ask tentatively.

"You'll find out." You say.

"Will I like it?"

"Of Course."

"I'm so turned on right now." I admit, half reluctantly, half eagerly. You laugh softly.

"I know. I can smell your arousal like the sweetest perfume."

I groan, you laugh louder, I get a little wetter, and I decide to stop talking. I want to touch myself so badly and yet I want it to get better, so I wait and enjoy the self torture. You know what I'm going through, and I know it turns you on.

About ten minutes later we stop. I undo my seatbelt, but you order me to stay put, so I do. You come around to my side of the car and open the door, telling me to hold out my hand so you can help me out of the car. When I'm out, you slap a cold metal bracelet around my wrist, and I begin to get the gist of what the rest of the night's going to be like. I giggle.

"Laugh now," you say with a smile that I can hear.

The other cuff of the handcuffs is attached to your wrist, and we hold hands as you lead me into a building. When we get inside, it's deathly quiet, and I know that we're alone in the building. There is a feeling of space all around me and the ominous silence of solitude.

"Where are we?" I ask timidly.

"You'll find out in a minute," you say as you remove the handcuff from your wrist and place my hands behind my back, handcuffing them together. "Stand still" is the only other thing you'll say. I hear you removing your suit coat and moving stuff around. "I'll be right back." I hear you walk away, and I wonder where you're going. I can't hear any movement over the thick silence, and I'm nervous and very curious about what you're doing, but wisely keep silent and don't move. The night keeps getting more interesting. I hear you come back and feel your pleasure like a blanket at finding me in the exact same spot that you left me in, though you say nothing and make no noise. You suddenly grab my wrists by the chain between the bracelets. "Come with me," you order in a voice that is not to be disobeyed. I walk, half stumbling in my heels as you push me ahead of you and steer my path. We turn a corner and walk down a long hallway, and then you order me to stop and pull off my blindfold.

I now see what you were doing in the minutes I was left standing by myself. We're in a church, with candles along the aisles and around the altar. There are no electric lights and nobody else around. In front of the altar I see a small bottle, some rope, the leather flogger, and my picture. And roses. Lots and lots of red roses, in vases on the floor around the altar. On the altar I can already see that you've set up restraints. There is a candelabrum with several candles behind the altar and several fatter candles of different colors. My nipples are at attention and you could take a bath between my legs, I'm so wet at this point. I start to shake.

"Do you like it?" You ask, already knowing my answer.

"How...?" I begin, but you put a hand in front of my lips, silencing me.

"You don't need to know that right now. All you need to know is that this is the place I have chosen to worship you, in the way that I choose to do it, if you'll let me. Will you let me? Before you answer, I don't want any safewords, or any safeties. Someone knows where we are and what we're doing should anything happen, and they have instructions to check on us if they don't hear from us in more than 24 hours, but I want to push both our limits tonight. I want you to trust me. If you don't, then say 'no' right now and we'll do something else, but if you do, and I think you do, then say 'yes.'" You move your fingers under my chin and force me to look into your eyes. I stare into your eyes with the image of that altar in my mind and the admiration of the effort that went into setting this up in my heart. I see love, hope, and strength in your gaze, I feel tenderness in your touch, and my heart breaks. My eyes start to tear and my breath catches as I whisper my response.

"Yes. Yes, I trust you."

I notice that you were nervous only because you obviously no longer are. A smile as bright as the sun covers your face, and you lean forward and kiss me hard with the assurance and possession that I have come to know and love from you. The tears break from my eyes already as I kiss you back as hard, trying to tell you with my mouth how much I adore and appreciate you. You pull back from me with your hands on the back of my dress, easing the zipper down to my ass. Then you reach up and pull the ties in the back of my neck, and the dress falls to the floor, leaving me in my bra, thong, garter belt, black sheer stockings, and heels. All are black, and the candle light flickers across my skin, making it glow, and accentuating the contrast between my pale skin and the dark of the cloth. You carefully and confidently undo my bra and remove it, but then you move back to one of the pews and pull out a dagger. It's beautiful, perfectly symmetrical, with an ornate hilt that still looks serviceable. You bring it over to where I'm standing, still in the pool of my dress. You hold the tip to the hollow of my throat and softly order me to step forward, all with that adoring gaze in your eyes. I do so, and you remove the point from my throat and walk behind me.

"Spread your legs," you command softly. I carefully place my feet about three feet apart, and I feel the tip of the knife trace a line up the inside of my left thigh and over the globe of my ass. I wonder absently if my juices will etch the blade, but decide to mention that later and enjoy myself now. The flat of the blade is now against my ass, moving toward the center and under my thong. I make a little noise as you cut the small piece of satin in two places and remove it. You chuckle. I whimper. You take hold of my elbow again and lead me up the stairs to the altar.

"This altar is dedicated to you and to our feeling for each other." You say softly, as you lead me around behind it to where you've placed a small stool. "I want you on it, on your knees, face down." You give me my instructions as you're gently guiding me into the position that you want, with my face at one end of the marble slab and my feet at the other two corners, my knees at right angles pulling on the elastic of my garters and my ass high in the air. My hands are still handcuffed behind me. You place one of the restraints around my neck with my face pointing toward the front of the sanctuary, and I discover that they are 2" wide strips of velvet with metal buckles. My hair is still in the chignon at the base of my neck, held together with a silver pin. You leave it in for now, and restrain my ankles with identical restraints at the other end of the altar. You come around to the front and pick up the bottle from the floor.

"Pagans anoint their deities with oil, don't they?" you ask reverently as you unstop the bottle and drip a little of its contents on my ass. "Therefore, since I worship you, I will anoint you with oil." The scent of roses fills my nostrils as you coat my ass with the perfumed oil. I love the feeling of your hands on me, I always feel so safe, even in the position I now find myself in. Especially in this position. I know you would never hurt me, which is why we both enjoy this so much. I feel your hands leave my flesh and see you bend down and pick up the flogger, which isn't the one I remember. This one is obviously brand new for the occasion. I marvel again at the expense and effort you put into this night, which only turns me on more. You look at my face, the tears flowing down my cheeks from the depth of my feeling, and smile, then turn to my ass and begin flogging it viciously.

Over and over I feel the supple leather biting into my ass and thighs, teasing my wet pussy lips now and again. The sting blossoms into a warmth that spreads with every lash. My wetness increases the more you hit me. I see your face, which is a mixture of concentration, effort, joy, and adoration as you pinken my ass to a rosy glow. Tears are streaming down my face, and occasionally a whimper escapes me, but for the most part I simply enjoy the pain and the pleasure that you are bringing me with a tenderness that increases with every stroke. You hit me harder with the flogger, over and over, until the tears are flowing freely and my breath is coming in gasps, my hands are clenching and unclenching in the steel handcuffs, and the whimpers are escaping me more frequently. Your arousal is obvious in your pants and is turning me on even more as I imagine putting you into my mouth as I have so many times before. Then you stop, leaving me there choking on my tears and gasping for breath, with sweat pouring down your face. You step down from the chancel pulling at your tie, which you remove, and you unbutton the top two buttons of your dress shirt and roll up your sleeves. Then you sit down and gaze at me, catching your breath.

"I wish you could see how beautiful you look to me right now, with your ass shining and glowing from my ministrations and the tears flowing down your face from my effort. The candle light is wonderful for your skin. You're the goddess I am making you tonight." The last part I can barely hear because you've gotten choked up with emotion, and you close your eyes and let your head fall back, still breathing heavily from the effort. I gaze at you through my tears until I see your breathing slow. The marble is hard on my knees, my ass is on fire, my shoulders are cramped and I'm very uncomfortable, but I don't move except to breathe because you put me there and you're the only person with the right to. Your breathing is more even now and your arms are spread apart on the back of the bench. I wonder if you've fallen asleep and suddenly become alarmed. I fumble with my fingers for the safety on the handcuffs before I remember that there is no safety, not tonight.

"Master!" I cry; need, love, fear, and hope all mixed in my tone. You slowly raise your head and gaze at me again.

"I didn't forget you, love, I'm just stocking up energy." You chuckle at my nervousness and slowly rise, coming toward me while unbuckling your belt. My eyes widen with fear and anticipation. "Not yet," you say in answer to my unspoken question as you reach the altar. You place the belt across my elbows. "I want to decorate you, first." and you reach for the candelabra of what I see now to be pale pink candles, about six of them. You hold it over the small of my back and tip the candles over my ass so that the wax falls on it and down my back. Wax gets into the lace of my garter belt, the elastic holding up the stockings, and coats the warmth and the sting from my flogging. The muscles shiver and clench as you do this, letting it drip until you are satisfied with the pattern it has made. Then you pick up the belt again. "Just a dozen, love, just for me," you whisper as you step back. I flinch and close my eyes as you raise the belt above your head, then cry out as it cracks against my already stinging flesh. You rise up and lash out again, hitting the bottom of my thighs. I can feel wax flaking off and falling down my legs, getting caught in the wetness of my juices that are dripping now onto the altar. 'Crack!' again, as you hit the top of my ass this time. I cry out louder and begin to sob. My cries get louder with each lash and I can hear you breathing, making noises of pleasure on your own. 'Five' we both whisper in our minds as you hit me again. 'Six' more flakes fall around my thighs and down to the altar. 'Seven.' I shout out as the belt leaves my skin.

"Please, Master!"

You say nothing with your mouth, but the belt lands across my ass again. 'Eight'.

"Please! PLEASE!!"

'Nine.'

'Ten.'

"Master! Master, please!"

'Eleven.'

"Master!" my voice dies into a whimper as you hit my ass one last time. I'm burning and shaking, my ass is on fire, I hate you and I love you and I want you.

You drop the belt on the floor and groan, and walk over to my face and kiss it, smoothing the hair away from my eyes and kissing away the tears. I sob uncontrollably, more out of the unbelievable emotions running through my body than the pain, now. There are no more words spoken as you walk around the back of the altar with one hand constantly touching me, you move to the end behind my ass and step on the stool that you collected on your way around. I hear the zipper of your fly over my breathing and know that you've pulled out your cock, my cock. I feel the head pushing against my opening and I sob again, this time with need and desire. I cum, ejaculating over your pants as you push against me without entering me, and then I cum again. I know you can feel it because you put your hands on my welted, burning ass and rock back and forth with a groan, then I feel you push away from me and suddenly spurt all over my ass and my back. I scream in anger that you didn't cum inside of me; you ignore me as you groan and stumble back. I'm sobbing and seething, exactly the way you wanted me to. I hear you zip up your pants and come over to the head of the altar, then feel you undoing the buckle at my neck. As soon as it is loose I raise myself up onto my knees and glare at you with a fury I can't describe. You take one look at my face and laugh.

"I couldn't wait any longer, but I want you to." I glare harder. "It will be worth it. Stop sulking." You move to my ankles and untie them, then guide me off of the altar and remove my shoes, garter belt, and stockings. "It's time for you to be naked, love" you say as you pull the pin out of my hair and let it fall softly around my shoulders. My hands are still bound behind my back and you reach around and grip them as you kiss my mouth hard. At first I resist you, still angry over your 'wasted' orgasm, but you kiss me harder and I can't fight you any longer, giving in to my hunger and kissing you back just as hard. You pick me up and sit me on the end of the altar, laughing when I involuntarily cry as my burning ass hits the cold marble. You pull the keys to the handcuffs out of your pocket, and move to the side of the altar, reaching for my wrists and warning me "if you try to run away, I will punish you mercilessly," as you unlock the cuffs. I massage my wrists as you take the cuffs back down to the bench and rummage with your coat, pulling a long black box out of the inside pocket and grabbing the dagger before coming back to my side.

"Lie down" you command softly. I don't resist because of the knife, and you restrain my wrists again at the corners of the altar where you used to have my head, pulling my hair up from behind my back and fanning it over the side. "God, but you're beautiful," you whisper, laying the dagger between my breasts and putting the box beside it. You move to the other end and tie my ankles to the base of the marble altar, then return to my middle and open the box, pulling out a silver necklace of superior quality. It's jointed in a way to look solid, and it has a small ornamentation where it gets thicker across from the clasp. I lift my head as you place it around my neck, screwing it closed behind my head. "This marks you as mine. I had it made for you. Never take it off." I whisper my acquiescence as you remove your hands. The metal is cold against my skin. I feel owned, protected, and loved. You shudder a breath as you pull away from me. "So beautiful..." you mutter. The word 'mine' floats around both our bodies as we stare at each other. You shake yourself and bend down, coming up with the bottle again, dribbling oil over my breasts, belly, and pussy and rubbing it in with determination and revenance. I stare at your face as you look everywhere on my body but mine while you touch me. Then you bend down, pick up the flogger, and move between my legs without a word and without eye contact. I continue to stare at your face as you flog me over and over, on my breasts, my belly, my pussy, and my thighs.

The pain feels like a kiss and I am nothing but my desire and my feeling for you; your face is all I see and it's like a beacon calling me to safety. I breathe heavily but make no sound, the tears are no longer forming in my eyes and you smack me over and over, harder as you try to make me react but I won't. I've hit subspace, my body is no longer my body but an instrument of your pleasure; I feel no pain and no fear, just the leather of the flogger hitting me over and over. You drop the flogger and pick up the belt in frustration, whipping my nipples and my pussy with it as I gasp and continue to stare at you. Welts are forming on my skin and I don't feel them, I'm pulling at my restraints but I don't want to escape, I just want to reach you, you are my goal, my beginning, and my entire existence. Finally you hit me square on my clitoris and it breaks my trance and I scream, breaking you from your trance and causing you to drop the belt.