Chords that Bind Ch. 06

"Crawl over to the next rug, slave."

Cecilia listened immediately, happy to be done with the humiliating activity. What could he want now?

"Now, kneel up, and play with yourself." Gerry had to laugh as she paled and then blushed furiously. "I'm giving you permission to play with yourself slave. Go on."

No... NO! NO! NO! Cecilia couldn't decide if this, or sucking the phallus had been more awful. She couldn't do this in front of someone. She hadn't done it ever, except, her unhelpful memory prodded, when she had tried to have a forbidden orgasm before. When she had been driven to a frenzy and tried to masturbate. She felt herself grow wetter at the memory. No. She wasn't that debased.

"Fine. I won't wait. Crawl to the next carpet." She did, thrilled that her defiance hadn't garnered more punishment. She was back at the place they started. "Stand and present!"

Cecilia stood, wobbly on her cramped legs. "Hands behind your head. This is standing presentation." She did. Master grabbed a thin rope from the table. He doubled it over, wrapped it around her waist and threaded the ends through the loop, guiding the two ends down between her wet pussy lips. He paused to knot the two, and then tied the ends tightly at the small of her back. The knot was positioned right against her clit, and the pressure started sending pleasurable shocks through her nervous system.

"What are you?" The inquisition was starting over again, as was the music, returning to it's mysterious beginning, looping and twisting as Cecilia's emotions became more and more fraught with confusion.

"A slave." She knew what he wanted her to say now.

"Who am I?"

My torturer, Cecilia thought. "Master." Cecilia answered.

"What can I do to you?

"Whatever you want," She said with her head bowed in shame.

"Look me in the eye and tell me."

She looked up at him, the fight waning in her eyes, "You can do whatever you want to me."

"That's right. Crawl."

Crawling was so much more difficult with the rope digging into her crotch. Each shift of her hips brought delicious friction to her clit, her wetness making the rope slick. Gerry caught her slowed movements, and urged her along with a quick slap to her battered behind. "Now, ask me for punishment. Be a good little slave and choose."

On her hands and knees, Cecilia felt the burdensome weight of choice. The music was whispering sweet nothings in her ears while the damp rope tugged at her central nervous system. Choose? What could she choose? She didn't realize she'd closed her eye instinctually. When she opened them she saw the array on the table. 'Anything but the cane,' she said inwardly. She saw the suede flogger, and remembered being carried off by it. "That one." She pointed to it.

"Interesting choice," Master observed. Logic said she would choose that which she found least threatening. He had thought she would pick the crop, he had been most gentle with that implement, but was pleasantly surprised by her choice. It had been the implement used to educate her about pleasure and pain. He started covering her body with it, letting the strands thud and wrap around her torso. She stood unfettered this time, bound only by the obedience he was teaching her, and the music that was creating a tiny bubble of protection around her innermost identity. She wanted nothing more than to stop thinking, because the sensation was being transmuted, and Cecilia wanted nothing to do with the consequences of what was happening to her.

When Cecilia had attained a nice rosy hue over her front and back, Gerry backed away and set the flogger down. Cecilia hadn't even cried out, only moaned seductively with each impact.

"Crawl."

Cecilia found herself nearly panting with arousal as the rope worked its wonders over her clit, crawling to face the mounted dildo. "Get closer." He nudged her forward, closer to the phallus. "You know what to do."

Her mouth fit over the length of the dildo, and she started to lick it, detesting this exercise. For that's what this was, she realized: an exercise circuit for training a slave. Gerry pushed her head forward even more, forcing her to take more and more into her mouth. When her mouth was fairly stuffed with the artificial cock, he quickly clamped a peaked nipple, twisting the chain around the dildo's mount, and then fixing the other clamp onto Cecilia's tit. She jumped and tried to pull back, but yelped in pain as it pulled on her tender buds, and forced her mouth to accommodate the entire length of the cock she was sucking. The pain in her tits was starting to become an accelerant to her pussy, and she bucked her hips as she was forced to worship the dildo on her knees.

Dear Lord, this wasn't fair. Gerry was hard as an iron rod, and could do nothing. He stepped back from her as he tried to regain perspective. He focused on the music for a bit. But that wasn't much help: This was erotic ballet. The girl performing to the music was everything you could want in art: beautiful, submissive, (for the time being) obedient, and lavishing attention on a rubberized cock. He could see someone paying exorbitant amounts of money for this. The thought of the profit the girl would bring was enough for him to exert more self-control. He kept her there a bit longer this time, making sure she put a good amount of enthusiasm into her task, trying to cool his own ardor. He was satisfied with her effort for this round, and eased the clamps off.

"MMMmmmpppph. Oh God! Ahh!" Cecilia was happy to have them off, but it hurt as they were removed. She crawled without being told, to the next rug.

"Play with yourself." He was telling her to do it again. And this time, she wanted to. The knot at her clit was driving her up a wall. So help her, obeying should be easy this time. Tentatively she stroked her nipples, rubbing away the last of the pain the biting clamps left in their wake. She tilted her head back. It felt so good. More wetness flowed from her pussy. The tight rope was egging her on, and she closed her eyes, as her right hand travelled down her belly and between her legs. Just the lightest touch against the rope sent shivers and a surge of pleasure. She didn't realize how close she had been climbing. The music had been more than a balm to the pain, it had been spark to the tinder. She was being carried on it, and she guided a finger into her tight cunt. She was moaning now, a little slave in heat. Getting really worked up, Cecilia found herself begging like she had been taught, "Please let me come? Please Master?"

"No."

Cecilia stopped her motions. She was shocked. She was being so good. She wailed and felt the slippery knot tease her cunt further. She started to beg again. "Please! Please Master?"

"No. Over to the next rug. Crawl."

Cecilia was getting angry. Her frustration and torment were going to trap her. She obeyed, fighting shivers as she made her way to the thick carpet.

"Supplication." Master demanded. Cecilia folded herself over and reached her arms out. Feeling the rope pull at her arousal as she stretched her torso forward. She wanted relief so badly. She hated this chaos reverberating in her body even as the piano played beautiful harmonies. The irony in the music was far from amusing. But Master didn't relent. He continued with his interrogation.

"What are you?"

"I am a PERSON! With rights! You can't DO this to me! Let me GO!" Cecilia found her courage as she found her anger. This wasn't fair. She had been good and he was denying her! She had earned it damn it! "Let me come!" She needed it. Once she came she could make sense of everything. In this worked up state she was useless, operating only on animal instinct.

"That is not the correct answer. Try again." Her bursts of fight were entertaining, but they were time consuming. Lace was feeling rather smug with how perfect this punishment fit Cecilia's crime. The sooner she obeyed, the sooner her punishment would end. She was the one determining its length.

"NO! NO, I'm NOT a slave!" Cecilia was sitting up now, clenching her fists. Before she had a chance to protest with greater strength, Master cuffed her wrists behind her back. He remained calm and business like, not getting flustered at her sudden outburst. It was infuriating to be the only one being pushed to extremes.

"You are. You are submissive, and you're going to be sold as a slave, so you best accept that now."

"No. No, I'm NOT!" Cecilia was pulling at the cuffs wrapped about her wrists, happy to have something to struggle against, relieved she wasn't being as compliant as she had been. Anger was good; it was like cool water in her fevered arousal. It would keep her from losing herself.

"I know you don't like to hear this, but you are submissive. You relish having the choices and the options taken away. You don't want to be responsible for your own pleasure. Your body knows that. We've been through this." He raked his fingertips sensually through the roots of her hair.

"You weren't meant to fight. Look at yourself. You were made to yield. It's in your makeup. You exhaust yourself, and wear yourself out fighting me. It doesn't energize you. When you let yourself be controlled, you fly! You just don't want to admit that." The scalp massage was feeling so good as Cecilia listened, feeling the persuasive argument tease her with the promise of pleasure, just like Master's fingers were.

"So I'll tell you what, let's do one more lap. At the end if you want to come, you'll admit you're a slave and ask me for permission. You'll only be allowed to come if you ask to have your ass plugged. And that's it! You'll be done. The whole thing will be over." He made it sound so easy, so simple. "You have the choice to end this fight Cecilia. You don't want to fight anyway. You want pleasure and release. You just asked me for it. I'll give it to you."

It sounded so easy, so perfect. After all this, she could make it stop. Something was logical there. She did want release, the fighting was taking its toll on her emotionally and physically. All she had to do was tell him what he wanted to hear... No. She couldn't do that. He was tempting her with the devil's promises. She couldn't succumb. It would mean losing everything if she did, she was sure of it.

As she knelt silently, at war with herself, Lace waited. The music was still swirling around them. He pulled his hand away from her head. "Tell me what I want to hear. What are you?"

Cecilia couldn't answer. She knew. And she knew that by saying it, by giving in and using the power of naming, she would never be able to go back. She wished she was gagged. Resistance was wearing her down, and she couldn't tell what required the more valiant effort anymore.

Gerry wasn't going to wait. He nudged her leg with the toe of his shoe. "Fine. You've just chosen your next punishment. Over to the next spot."

"No! No! I'm NOT! Please!"

"You are. And the sooner you admit that, the sooner you'll have what you want. Now MOVE!"

Hands cuffed behind her, she was unable to crawl. Awkwardly, she got to her feet and walked to the next station of her miserable exercise routine. She didn't kneel, holding desperately to the thought that she was stronger than she felt, believing she could outlast whatever Master planned to do to her.

Gerry selected a flexible riding crop from the collection of implements. He decided to spare her bottom for the moment, and targeted her breasts. The doubled leather tip circled her nipples, but never found them, making her achingly aware that she responded unnaturally to the pain. Cecilia wanted him to balance the sensation on her breasts, and ease the tension building in her sensitive, ruddy tips. The pain would be welcome. Instead, he increased the speed and impact on her chest, causing her to cry in frustration and pain.

Why was the music still playing? It was holding her prisoner as much as the cuffs were. She couldn't be free to move into shock or acceptance because the music was piloting her emotions. It played on her desire to find something good, or even tolerable and forced her to be sharply aware and furiously present during this waking horror.

The crop on her bare breasts was more painful this time. The first time she felt its bite was when she woke to this nightmare. But now, just over the course of a week she could identify a radical change in her body. It hurt, but hurt was only a shade of what she was feeling. She was being pulled in two directions. It was inevitable that she was going to bend before she would break. She couldn't pretend anymore. As her flesh was being assaulted she realized there was only one thing she could do for herself, and that was to hold on as long as she possibly could.

Gerry saw Cecilia close her eyes. It looked as if she had made up her mind. Good, he was satisfied with her punishment, and had no wish to continue, he'd much rather find his own release. Training her was it's own brand of erotic torture, and the sooner he could be done, the sooner he'd find a warm mouth to quench his own burning need.

Cecilia bit her lips and let out yelps, determined to endure. The music was still accompanying her punishment and she allowed her mind the respite of concentrating on the movement and mood of the piece. She drew images behind her closed lids of what she thought the composer was drawing out in the notes and chords. When she felt the crop land squarely on her behind, she was jolted out of her reverie.

Master was pushing her towards the next carpet, exerting downward force on her shoulders, making her kneel again, eye to eye with the dildo she had been practicing on. She found that giving head was a helpless activity without the use of her hands. She was constantly off balance, and felt her mouth, jaw and cheeks tire. Her pussy clenched and wept, feeling the tiny jaws of the clamps finally fire the nerve endings in her nipples. It was so difficult to do this. She yelled and moaned, wishing with all her being for this to end. She was pretty sure Master was taking photos of her like this, but she was effectively gagged with the silicone cock. Master started taking the crop to her behind, encouraging her to suck and properly attend to the prick in her mouth. She was tired, her mouth was dry and here jaw aching. She wanted to stop, to move on. What was next? No. She couldn't think about that.

Gerry determined she was done practicing on the cock when he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold off. The control he had to exert on Cecilia and reign on himself was tedious. He took a quick chance to land the crop on her clamped tits, enjoying her moan, and rewarded her responsiveness by freeing the abused buds.

Cecilia was all dry sobs and pants. He was using the crop to direct her, not even speaking his commands to her. Master tugged on the rope around her waist, eliciting a desperate, husky moan. More. Just a bit more and I'll have it... but he already released the rope that was making a fool out of her. She looked down and saw that she was back at the first carpet again.

"Show me the greeting. Or as close to it as you can manage."

Cecila clumsily knelt, falling to her knees painfully, absorbing the impact as another wave of sensation.

"Play with yourself."

Pretending she didn't want to was impossible. She did. But now she couldn't.

"Oh, well, you seem to have a problem there. We really can't trust you with your hands. Let's see... How about this?"

Master had some sort of toy in his hands. It looked almost like a spinning top, but flatter. One end was convex and rounded. The other came to an obtuse vertex at a very soft angle. Master set it down between her legs. He prodded her forward with his crop.

She knew he wanted her to put her weight on it. Unsure of how this was supposed to work, she let her sex bare her weight and eased down on it. There was no penetration, but it was unsteady and rocked underneath her. Trying to keep herself centered, Cecilia countered the rocking with a shift of her hips. Then she understood.

"Ahhhhhggghh"

"Ride it." Master said in a low voice. Cecilia, at this point didn't hesitate to obey.

It was awkward and far from smooth, but there was friction and pressure, and that was all her body demanded. She churned her hips provocatively, enjoying the answering pleasure that would lead to her climax. She didn't care about the sounds she was making. Raw and husky, her moans practically encouraged her.

Gerry was amused. She was working herself quickly. He kept alert, making sure that he caught and stopped her before she came. Cecilia didn't seem to realize anyone else was in the room anymore. He decided to remind her, "You don't have permission to come yet slave."

Cecilia knew, she was just trying to prolong her pleasure. The rope was getting tighter from her liquid arousal, and the movement in her hips was mesmeric. The longer she waited to ask, the better she would feel that she had resisted him. But she was dangerously close.

Lace had seen enough. She was not going to ask, she was trying to orgasm without permission. That was the last thing he was going to allow to happen. Before she could come, he lifted her bodily from the carpet, and in three large strides had the struggling girl over to the next little rug.

"NO. NO! Please! I was so close! PLEASE, let me come! Please, please, please!"

"Yeh weren't going to ask. So now we need to do this again."

And they did. Cecilia felt like a prisoner of the inquisition. She wasn't prepared to continue to answer the repetitive questions. "What are you?"

"A slave." She felt it now. Her pussy was clenching around nothing, pleading with her to obey and find peace.

"What are you?"

"a slave." She whispered again

"Louder."

"A slave!"

"Who am I?"

"Master?"

"What can I do to you?"

"Anything!" She sobbed, wishing she could just break and end this.

She was whipped at the next carpet, this time with a horsetail flogger. She didn't understand what it was for at first, it didn't hurt terribly at all, it just sort of spread all over her body. But after a few more swings she understood. Everywhere it hit her she felt an itch, like a rash, rise to her skin. She couldn't rub away the feeling, or shake off the falling horsehair that was driving her to new levels of madness. It caught her between the legs.

"Please! Please Master! Let me come! Stop this!"

"Not yet, you've got more practicing to do."

Cecilia was sucking on the damned dildo again, her entire body on fire. The clamps range of motion on her tits was even shorter this time, and she had to take the entire length in her mouth to give her breasts relief. She couldn't believe her body could stand this much stimulation. The tension in her kept rising with the tension in the music, but she wasn't being granted the release that the music allowed itself. The piano player was being judicious with his playing, not building it more than the listener could bear. No such mercy was being granted Cecilia, and she was sure she would suffer internal collapse.

She was back at the rug with the top. Eagerly she rubbed and rocked against it, begging immediately. "Please Master! Let me come!"

"Tell me what you are."

"A slave."

"And slaves can only come if?"

No. She was not begging him to plug her ass. She wouldn't.

After being dragged back to the first carpet to review positions and answer the inquisition, Cecilia decided she would. Her punishment this time was the paddle, but this one had holes in it, to minimize any possible air cushion that would temper the punishment. After the itchy horsetail flogger it was a blessed relief, until more prickling stinging rose across her red bottom.