Quid Pro Quo

The shots, taken in profile and three-quarter profile, were actually quite modest and, I dare say, aesthetic. The photos highlighted Annette's lean and shapely legs and her breasts and crotch were discreetly concealed. I was able to get in fewer than ten quick shots before we sensed that we were about to have company. Anna dismounted from the window and quickly retreated behind the sandstone rock columns to dress.

I walked behind the stone formation to join her as she was zipping up her shorts. "That was a close call" I observed. "But we got the job done." We then walked the quarter mile to the trailhead.

"Thanks, Annette. That was great. Let me get your check. It's in my car."

Annette quickly grabbed my arm and said, "I don't want your check."

"But sweetie", I protested, you took time from your schedule to do this for me and I know that you can use the money."

"I can use the money" she admitted. "And I do expect payment in kind. But not in the form of money."

"What's this 'payment in kind' that you have in mind" I asked." You know I'll do anything for you."

"I told you during our last massage session that I was into BDSM" she reminded me. "Well, I want you to play master to my submissive."

"I'm not into that stuff" I protested. "I don't know a damn thing about BDSM."

"Don't worry about it. I'll tell you everything you need to know" she responded reassuringly. "I've also got all the special equipment we'll be using."

I was totally flummoxed. My heart was beating like a hummingbird's and I was sweating profusely. I also had an erection. "OK, Annette. We'll see what kind of a teacher you are and what kind of a student I am. I'll do it" I croaked. "Let the games begin."

I wasn't at all sure where we were going to go with this. As far as BDSM practices were concerned, I was a novice. Annette had given me some general guidance when she raised this topic during our last massage session. She likes to play the sub, but wasn't interested in being led around in a dog collar and she expressed a desire to be restrained and flogged.

I had some ideas of my own. The role-playing required in a BDSM relationship held great appeal to me. Who wouldn't enjoy stepping out of their own skin for a while and escaping into a world of erotic fantasy? I researched some common role-playing scenarios; boss-secretary, doctor-patient, and teacher-student. The last of these required minimal imagination on my part since I had been a high school teacher. I thought that Annette's desires could be accommodated within this scenario. I texted her with these ideas and a week later, she got back to me.

"Yes sir. If it would please you, I'll do my best to meet your needs" she responded.

We were scheduled to have one more massage session before the tentative time frame that we had established for the "special event." I scheduled a two-hour appointment since I wanted to clarify some ground rules for our little role-playing drama.

Annette's second floor studio was unusually warm. She was dressed in a skimpy tank top and short cut-off jeans and was typically bare-footed. Given that the previous massage session had taken flight from established professional protocol, I decided to push my luck and try to cajole her into engaging in some highly unprofessional behavior.

Annette dimmed the lights and turned on the soothing ocean waves and seagull cooing audio loop. She worked my back and legs as usual and we engaged in superficial patter. When she directed me to turn over onto my back, I decided to re-direct the topic of conversation. I asked a question that I had always been curious about.

"Annette, what do you do if your client gets an erection?"

"It depends on how well I know the client" she responded. There's several ways to deal with it. I can ask the client to flip over on his stomach and work his back. This will re-direct the blood flow from his penis to his back muscles or I can ignore it and continue my work as usual."

"Is there a third way?" I teasingly inquired.

"Happy endings are unprofessional" she scolded. "That's what prostitutes do."

Ignoring her atypical moralistic comment, I pressed on. "It's hotter than hell in here, sweetie. You must be roasting. Why don't you slip off your tank top" I suggested.

Crossing her arms and grasping the bottom of the tank top with both hands, she lifted it over her head and indignantly replied, "I'm a professional masseuse, not a prostitute, mister."

"I know you are dear and I respect you for that" I responded reassuringly as I stared at her butterfly tattoo, her perfectly round pink areolas and pert little nipples festooned with gold rings. Very quickly a firm erection formed that produced a tent under the thin white sheet.

"Oh my" I said in a low voice. "Look what's happened!"

"You, mister, are very naughty. I'm going to have to do something about that" she whispered as she retreated to the shelves at the foot of the massage table. She picked up a nondescript small bottle and squirted a small amount of its contents on one hand and lightly rubbed both hands together.

When she returned to the table, she gently stroked my erect penis with the KY lubricant. She alternated firm, but gentle strokes of the shaft of my cock with teasing rubs of the head. My heart was pounding as I sensed seminal fluid rising through my penis as the intensity of the stroking accelerated. I watched Annette's nipple rings jiggle up and down as the stroking intensified and moaned in ecstasy as an explosion of cum sprouted several inches into the air and came to rest on my stomach.

"Oh my God Annette, that was beyond belief! I gushed.

Annette was wiping her hands with a clean towel. "That," she purred "was the third way."

At the conclusion of the therapy I quickly dressed and returned to the outer office so that we could negotiate the details of the main event.

The most important detail to be decided was establishing the boundaries of the role-play. We both agreed that we would follow the SSC guidelines (safe, sane and consensual). We briefly discussed whether it was desirable to engage in a formal written agreement. We mutually dismissed this idea since we had had a relationship of two years duration and felt comfortable around one another. We also agreed that edge play was unacceptable and that a safe word was a must.

"How about 'Hillary Clinton"? I suggest facetiously. We both had a good giggle at that.

"Really cute, mister. I think redrum would be better, she retorted.

"Brilliant!" I responded. "Redrum it will be."

Having agreed to the basic ground rules, we set a date two weeks later for the main event. Annette insisted that she host the performance at her apartment which was located in a Victorian mansion on the city's North End. This made good sense since the equipment that we would be employing was located there. I immediately agreed. The deal was on.

A flurry of text messages were exchanged between us before the main event. Since I was cast as the dom, I was to dictate Annette's clothing apparel and the location of the action. I wanted her dressed in ultra-feminine clothing; a flowered, light cotton mid-thigh length dress, a training bra, red nylon bikini panties and girlish patent leather shoes with a thin strap and buckle. The initial setting would be a second bedroom in her apartment that she used as an office. I also provided her with a basic backstory for the drama that would unfold.

We agreed that I would appear at her apartment promptly at 8 to begin our session. The building that housed Annette's apartment was a three story Victorian mansion that had been built as a single-family residence. Since its construction in the 1880s, it had fallen into disrepair. The gray paint was peeling and deterioration was visible around the windows and doors. Besides Annette's place, there were eight other apartments in the building. Her residence was 7B.

I knocked loudly on her door. Annette promptly responded and let me in. "Mister McAllister, What a surprise. What brings you here sir?"

Annette had dressed perfectly for the role. She was clad in a short flimsy white cotton dress that was festooned with pink and lavender flowers. She had arranged her frizzy reddish-blond hair in pigtails and was wearing shiny little patent leather shoes and short white cotton socks. Her outsized rectangular glasses lent a scholarly touch to her otherwise childish appearance. Most provocative of all, her red bikini panties were clearly visible underneath her dress. She made quite the comely, naughty little school girl.

"Annette, I have to say that I'm quite disappointed with you. You have nine unexcused absences from my class, have failed to turn in six assignments and are failing government. I've come to tell you that you will not be graduating with your class."

"Mr. McAllister, sir, that can't be. My parents have already planned my graduation party. They'll be devastated if I don't graduate. What can I do pass your class?"

"Regrettably, Annette, there's nothing you can do" I responded.

"Mr. McAllister, sir, I'll do ANYTHING for you, if only you will give me a passing grade" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Annette. There's nothing that can be done at this point unless..."

"Unless what, sir? I will do whatever it takes to please you" she responded.

"Annette, there is one recourse that we have, but it will require that you submit to a severe regime of discipline. You must do everything that I tell you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir, I do" she responded.

"Annette, I want you to understand that I am compelled to administer the most severe form of corporal punishment, it will be extremely painful. Can you accept that?" I asked.

"Yessir, I'm willing to do anything for you."

"In that case, let's begin" I announced. "Go to my office" I commanded. She quickly scurried into the office as I followed close behind.

"Now, I need you to take off your dress" I directed. Annette clasped the hem of the dress with both hands and lifted it over her head and dropped it on the floor. Dressed in red panties and her white training bra, she was visibly trembling. "Now place both hands on the desk, spread your legs and bend over" I directed as she complied with my demands.

"Before I begin administering your punishment, it is necessary that I perform a cavity inspection. Remove your panties." Quickly she slipped her red panties off and tossed them on top of the dress.

I sidled up behind Anna, put a latex glove on my right hand and jammed three fingers into her pussy. She winced as I manipulated them inside her wet vagina.

"Your punishment is to begin" I announced. "Would you prefer to wear your panties or leave them off" I asked.

"No panties, sir" she meekly responded.

"So be it. Brace yourself Annette" I warned.

I grasped the black riding crop in my right hand, flicked my wrist back and administered the first of the ten lashes to Annette's buttocks that was due. The first was delivered with minimal force and induced a grimace and slight groan. Each succeeding stroke was delivered with accelerating force and speed. By the sixth lash of the crop, Annette was whimpering loudly as tears streamed down her face. The ninth and tenth lashes induced shrill screams and hysterical wailing. I expected that I would derive no pleasure from inflicting pain on another human being. I'd always thought of myself as a sensitive and gentle soul. Besides, I was here participating in this melodrama only because Annette had insisted upon it. Much to my shock and dismay, I found myself becoming increasingly aroused as the beating intensified. By the time the battery upon Annette's body had ceased, I had a sizeable erection.

She had survived the first phase of her treatment in stellar shape. We then proceeded to the next phase, the second half of the performance if you will. As soon as Annette had regained her composure, I directed her to proceed to the bedroom.

She stood at the foot of the bed with her eyes downcast and awaited my next instructions. I noticed that her ass was beet red and that lash marks were visible. Trickles of blood oozed from the wounds. "Annette, take off your bra, lay face up on the bed, extend your arms toward the posts and spread your legs."

She obeyed these instructions and I clasped a set of handcuffs on each wrist. As soon as her arms were secured, I locked her ankles into an Andrews Cross. As she lay helpless on the bed, I gently lifted her head and slipped a blindfold on. I was about to subject her to the Wartenberg Wheel. This simple device resembled a pizza cutter with one crucial difference. Sharp needles were attached at one centimeter intervals around the wheel. The ostensible purpose of this instrument was to test nerve reactions. I was quite aware that employing this device was flirting with edgeplay. As I had never used this device before and I didn't wish to harm Annette, I decided to test it on my own body. I rolled up my right pant leg and very gingerly rolled it along my calf. This generated a stinging sensation similar to an insect bite or contact with thorns; unpleasant to sure, but not inordinately painful. It didn't require much extrapolation to realize that intensifying the pressure on the device would inflict excruciating pain.

"Annette, I'm about to stimulate sensations in different parts of your body. I want to warn you in the severest terms that it's absolutely imperative that you REMAIN TOTALLY STILL. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes sir, I do" she whispered. I could see that she was trembling ever so slightly.

Without warning, I gently rolled the wheel about three inches along her right forearm. She winced slightly, but otherwise displayed no reaction. Next I positioned the instrument just below her left shoulder, applied slight pressure and moved the wheel six inches down toward her elbow. Again, there was minimal reaction. I decided to increase the level of pain and placed the wheel on her right inner thigh and rolled it toward her crotch. This stimulated a more intense reaction as she whimpered audibly and tears formed in the corners of both eyes. Despite my instructions to remain still, she writhed slightly on the bed. This called for an admonishment.

"God damn it Annette. I told you to keep still. Now you will be punished for disobeying my instructions" I shouted.

Annette had mentioned that she derived little sensation from having her nipples pinched. I was eager to put this belief to the test, I carefully placed the wheel on the outer edge of the areola of her right breast, exerted moderate pressure and rolled the wheel over her nipple. This drew blood and caused her to yelp in pain. She was sobbing loudly.

"Well I see that you do have some residual sensation in those tiny tiitties of yours" I cruelly teased.

"Please, please" she sobbed. But no safe word was forthcoming so I continued my exploratory journey. I moved the wheel down to her crotch and placed it oh so tenderly on the engorged lips of her sweet vagina. Exerting minimal pressure I moved the wheel about two centimeters. Tears streamed out of her tightly closed eyes and she moaned loudly. She was breathing heavily and her chest heaved up and down. My mission had been to locate the intersection of intense pain and erotic ecstasy. Gently moving the wheel across the bare lips of her beautiful pussy, I struck pay dirt as Annette screamed and thrust her pelvis upward with a jerk. Fortunately, I was able to anticipate this reaction and had quickly withdrawn the Wartenberg Wheel. Her pelvic thrusts intensified as she succumbed to her intense orgasmic contractions.

"REDRUM, motherfucker, REDRUM!" she screamed.

Anna's respiration slowly returned to normal and her body relaxed. She was totally spent and I was drenched in sweat. The experience had been more intense that either of us had anticipated. I released her ankles from the spreader bar and unlocked the cuffs from her wrists. Next I carefully inspected her body for evidence of the activities just concluded. Her buttocks continued to glow bright red and lash marks remained visible. The wheel had created small puncture wounds that drew miniscule amounts of blood. Most of these wounds would heal within a week or two I concluded.

"Well dear, did you get what you were looking for?" I asked.

Holding her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart, she hissed at me, "you were that close to violating the terms of our oral agreement, you cocksucker."

"Am I to interpret that comment to mean that our experiences in the realm of BDSM are over?" I inquired.

"Look asshole, just be here at the same time one month from today, Now get the fuck out of here" she commanded. I couldn't quite tell whether I detected a slight smile or not. END.