Scorch Your Soul Ch. 03

If you want context, read the first two chapters.

Again... Him. Her. Switching. Keep up. Enjoy. Comment.

*****

I stood frozen to the spot. I did not dare move. I looked directly in front of me. The apartment was not an apartment! It was a suite; open-plan. It was elegant, sophisticated, clean; just like him.

The expanse of several rooms, dropped into different half levels, seemingly haphazardly in front of me; soft furnishings, contrasted by hard, angular statues; just like him.

"Do. Not. Move." I involuntarily flinched. My knees buckled, ever so slightly, but I knew it would have been noticed. I cowered inside. Oh n... Nothing came. The whispered words, so close to my left ear, his breath hot as a furnace on my skin. I shivered. Hot breath, yet I shivered? I was emotionally and physically in turmoil.

I scanned the room - just moving my eyes. The lighting was soft, not dim, but - I dared to think - subtle and relaxing? If so, the only the lighting that was, I noticed off to one side, from the corner of my eye, a harsh, bright light, coming from another room. A kitchen, perhaps. My heart skipped one, two, ten beats, and the light slowly vanished, as the door clicked softly shut! We weren't alone!

Darkness. Instant. Total.

It took a full second for my brain to catch up. I was blind! A hood! Instinct? SCREAM! I whimpered, almost a small sob, but it was deafening in my head, competing with my heart, pounding as loud as any drum. The material allowed no light; nothing!

Yet, I could breathe easily.

As I sucked in air to feed my deprived heart, I felt the soft material stick briefly to my painted lips. The exhale, slowly peeling it way from the moist surface. It tickled slightly. It aroused me.

What?

His hands touched my the nape of my neck. Another electric jolt. He pulled the straps off my shoulders, unclasped, and unzipped my dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. Did he sigh?

"Step out of your dress, and kneel down."

Whispered. A whimper? Good. My touch, almost imperceptibly firmer; complete submission. I guided her down to her knees. There was nothing near to injure her, but I didn't want to leave that to chance. That would be very deliberate.

The carpet would be soft on her knees, but she wouldn't be on them for long.

The firmness of his grip intensified, and I sank to my knees. He lightly grasped a wrist, and steered my hand to the arm of a chair. Without this, and his support, I felt I would fall forever, spiralling in the darkness, in which I was trapped.

"On all fours!"

The harshness in his voice alone, pushed me forward. Not like this! Not like this, please! My mind screamed what I wanted to shout. Yet. There I was, on my hands and knees, blind, and knowing he was behind me. I feared the next... what?

This time, what happened next, forced a gasp to push for my lips, billowing into the hood: Slowly, almost glacial, my soaking wet knickers were pulled down, and left around the tops of my stockings, my snow-white thighs; my soaked pussy; my ass were now completely exposed.

"Lie on your front." A whisper. Silently, he was at my side. The whisper was as loud as the barked order. I lay on my front, unsure of what I was to do, how I was to lie; my head over to one side.

"Hands, behind you."

My mouth opened. A silent gasp. The redness of my lips, parted, partially sticking together, moist with saliva. I couldn't make a sound. Even if I wanted to. I was breathless. I was panting, but without any air in my lungs. Awkwardly, I put my hands behind me. This was not comfortable at all! I heard some brief rustling, then my hands suddenly were pinched roughly together at the wrists. It was painful; it was clumsy; it was too tight. He had used his tie to restrain me? This was all wrong!

As expected, the hood going over her head from behind, had had the desired effect; anticipation, extinguished by panic. I had noticed the door. Not acceptable. There would be consequences later, and I assumed the Other already knew.

I calmed myself, as much as I could. I was irritated, but it was not my young friend's fault. She wouldn't be made to pay for the mistake of the Other. The Other would answer for their mistake. I was sure they were already preparing.

Back to now.

I put my hands gently onto her shoulders; the touch, as light as I could make it. The reaction; an electric shock; she was ready.

A hand pushed roughly onto my bound hands, already I could feel them heating up, with the tightness of his silk tie. One which only an hour ago (really?) I was gazing at, admiring it.

His hot breath in my ear again.

"Do not move. At all. I am leaving you for fifteen seconds. I am going to another room. Is that alright?"

How could I refuse? I wanted to, but would it have made a difference?

"Yes", I replied, my voice faltered; "yes... thank you." I knew how I was to respond to any question.

NOISE! Loud music, instantly filled, invaded, my senses. Headphones! I cannot see, now I cannot hear! Fifteen seconds, seemed to stretch to fifteen minutes; hours; days?

I jumped at his soft touch. I screamed out loud. Did I? I couldn't even hear my own thoughts.

SILENCE!

My senses were being overloaded; violated. That word! Oh my God! I could hear a dog; close by; panting heavily; whimpering; groaning. Oh no. It was me; I was making these noises. My hands burnt; too tight. He had it all wrong! We had discussed his ropework, which had left me mesmerised and wet. I felt betrayed.

The HARD slap on my exposed cheek, was almost as loud as the scream/grunt/moan/sigh that poured, dripped form my mouth. I could feel strands of saliva sticking to the inside of the hood

His hand softly touched my skin. I yelped, as though it was a slap. It rested on the small of my back, massaging, firmly in small circles; the dog whimpered again. The softness of his touch ignited a flame inside me, as his hand slowly, ever so slowly, began to slide down over my ass cheek, his fingers under my knickers pushing in between my exposed cheeks, pausing only to tease my anus. Then he pushed fingers, firmly into my wetness. I groaned, loud. I wasn't punished! My body instantly wracked with pleasure, writhed as I came, heightened by his thumb pushing up my arse, his fingers up my soaking pussy; his knee, gently but firmly on my back, stopping me from moving.

I was still cumming, as I began to realise, that it wasn't his thumb inside me. Right now, I didn't care what it was. I was still shuddering as he removed his fingers abruptly. He left me lying there. His knee on my back, the only sign he was still with me. Suddenly, my wrists, burning, hurting, almost numb, were released. Pain seared through them, as the blood surged back in. He gently, held my arms, moving them slowly to the floor either side of me, caressing my hands softly as they began to tingle. His touch was exquisite; gentle; caring. As though it was our first meeting all over again.

The warmth I was feeling, was replaced by something else. It was cold! What ever he had put into my ass was cold. Steel. Smooth. Curved. It was a hook!

He sensed the tension in my body; knee released from my body, only to have his hand grip the back of my neck. His mouth to my ear.

"Lie still. Relax. Catch your breath. Tell me when you are ready."

Ready? Ready for what!? Minutes passed. Counted out by the (slight) slowing of my heart.

"Thank you. I am ready."

"I want you get get up, slowly, onto your hands and knees again. Take your time. I will help you as you need it. Remember, your hands have been restricted."

His words, so soft and gentle, sliced into me. The anal hook. Will that slice into me too?

Shakily, I raised up onto my hands and knees.

I trembled; from spent energy; from my restriction; from anticipation.

"Good girl!"

I could hear the pleasure in his voice. I had pleased him, finally!

"Close your eyes; please."

Such gentleness to his voice! I melted inside, it flowed out of me, as a moan, as wetness in between my legs.

"Thank you." I remembered my manners.

The hood was slipped from my head, even though it was dimly-lit, the light seared through my eyelids. A hand under my chin, gently raising my head up.

"Open your eyes; slowly though, the lights will be bright."

I slowly opened my eyes, blurry, staring at him kneeling before me. His tie, back in place, perfectly tied, his jacket still buttoned.

Her exquisite makeup was smudged; her mascara had run, her lipstick smeared slightly, with small amounts of spittle on the side of her moth and chin. My cock strained in my trousers. It was a beautiful sight.

A work of art already.

"Now, when you're ready, I'm going to help you to your feet. Are you ready?"

I nodded. My head felt heavy. My hair matted over my face. Wet. Like my pussy.

Gingerly, slowly, with his help, I got to my feet. I felt I was standing on an waterbed - on stilts. I was giddy, but able to stand. He stood before me, looking down at me, his gaze burning into me. I could feel it. He tilted my head up gently with one hand; a gentle squeeze; more wetness escaped me. The other, gently sweeping the hair from my face, brushing it behind my ears. He liked my ears. His hand dropped from my hair. I looked up; gazed into his eyes; I smiled. A kiss maybe? He did not smile back, his hand, behind me, grasped an unseen rope tied to the anal hook. A sharp tug seared up through my body; I cried out.

His hand; my throat; squeezing harder choked me into silence; holding me.

The tug of the hook, the force of his hand at my throat, along with the hardness of him against my belly, pushed me back. One step. Two steps. Three. Oh! What am I standing under? I looked to my left; a bag. The bag!

I pulled the hemp rope through the pulley, held up by the frame. The Other had helped me bring it out of the 'play-room' during her 'sensory deprivation' time. Crude distraction? Yes. Ends-to-a-means? Yes. Sophisticated? Meh. The Play-room. Oh, not yet! I stifled a smile.

I tightened the rope as much as I felt she could take. She would not be pushed; not tonight. A simple device; once the rope is taught, escape; impossible.

She stood before me; all I had expected; wanted.

Heels, high, black, gloss; stockings, black; shear; seamed (straight-ish; forgivable this time); panties, around her thighs, just the 'right' distance from pussy to knee; her breasts, heaving; neck, glistening, slender, elegant, inviting, kissable, biteable, grip-able ; her face, beauty personified; makeup, smudged, messy, sexy-as-hell; restrained, analy. What more could I ask for? Two? Side-by-side? Another time? Definitely; just like that time...

I unbuttoned my jacket, slid it off, carefully folded it, and placed it gently onto a seat.

I checked my sleeves, made sure the cuff links were perfectly aligned with the cuffs. I was a little OCD, but I like all my shit to be right, right?

I reached down to the bag alongside her. I saw her eyes. I saw what the mere sight of the bag did to her. Wait until she has seen some of what is in there.

I took out what I needed; what she needed.

Rope. Hemp.

A short length, cut to a precise length; supple; lightly-oiled; the ends lovingly bound to prevent fraying; virginal rope, as always. Each of them get; and care for, their own set.

I stood a few feet from her, her eyes not leaving mine; searching for a clue. She submitted of course, as her eyes fell to the rope; they always do.

Another moth to the flame.

Without blinking she stared; mesmerised. Slowly, deliberately so, I wove a beautifully-symmetrical, yet simple handcuff knot. She was mine, completely. I could tell; the way she looked back up at me, pleading with her eyes; the way she put her hands behind her; ready, willing. Her lips moist, wet with saliva; almost a drool.

I kissed her forehead lightly, as I moved behind her, my nails scraped lightly across and around her body; a moan.

I slipped the loops over her willing hands, and slowly closed the loops. It had to be done a certain way. Perfectly so.

The loops brushed her pale, smooth skin. There. Light contact; no more restriction required. The beautifully-finished tails hung down slightly, but even. I stood back and admired my handiwork. I would have to trim the length a little more, to make the cuffs perfect.

I walked all around her, twice, gazing over my catch. I stopped in front of her, and knelt in front of her. I kissed her belly; her pussy; gently. I felt down those soft, sensual stockings, to her heels. I slipped one shoe off. She moaned a little more, as I brushed across her pussy with hot breath, over to her other shoe. I slipped it off. She groaned more; adjusting her body again; standing on tiptoe. I looked up her body, to her face, seeing her looking down at her Master. Her eyes glistened; with desire; with lust; her eyes quickly betrayed a new emotion, as I backed away from her: fear. Realisation that she had to STAY ON TIPTOES to prevent ripping herself apart!

I could see the change in her eyes. Wide-eyed, she silently pleaded with me. My prey had been snared, restrained, hooked, and semi-suspended.

She had to keep her balance.

I returned to my bag, and removed my latest creation; made especially for her. It was soft, black leather, hand-crafted over many days and nights of intricate weaving. I slipped my hand through the hand-loop; grasped the leather-bound wooden handle, and allowed the twenty, 60cm leather strands fall. I lightly swished the whip. The sound in the air enthralled me, and the smell of freshly cut, oiled leather filled the air. Immediately joined by the thwack of leather on skin, followed by the cry of pain; the grunt of carnal lust; the moan of desire; the sigh of pleasure.

And repeat.

Each time, a different place, each time, just as hard, each time the redness appeared.

She enjoyed it. Her eyes betrayed the cries.

I lost count. Had I wanted to, I could've counted the red marks. But before long, they merged.

The first time the straps connected with her clit, she orgasmed. I was almost tempted to reach out and steady her, but I knew that the thought, and feel, of the hook in her ass also heightened it for her. She shook, rocked, twisted on her toes.

Her legs trembled, continuing to do so, even after the shockwaves had subsided.

I was concerned. I moved close, stroked her wet face, hair matted to her cheeks. I lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. She smiled. Her eyes filled with tears, but I could tell she was exhausted. I reached over her head, and released the pulley. She stayed on her toes, so I gently, firmly, pushed down on her shoulders. A spark of fear, before relief flowed across her face, as she realised what I had done.

"Thank you."

I smiled back. I reached around, and carefully unhooked her ass, a moan escaped her lips as the bulbous end stretched her anus slightly before releasing her.

I allowed the hook to hang. The Other, would be cleaning up later. I wrapped both hands around her, she pushed forward against me. I realised her hands and gently eased them to her side. I massaged her wrists, as I licked around her lips, her teeth, and her tongue. I stopped as quickly as I had started.

I knelt before her again, and gently slipped her shoes back on. I sensed discomfort, but is was necessary. I roughly pushed my face against her, and licked aggressively, and deeply into her pussy. I slid a hand up, forcefully between her legs, her wetness had soaked her lace-trimmed stockings. Her legs parted; she moaned. She wanted more.

I stopped. Stood, and retrieved her dress from the floor.

"Please, put it back on. Do not ask, just do."

She struggled into her dress. Tight, when she first arrived, but now, she was fighting the wetness that coated her skin. She was frustrated, fighting with the material, fighting with her desire for more. I stepped forward. Calmed her with a touch. Eased her into her dress. I zipped her dress; kissed the nape of her neck, she moaned loudly, rolled her head to one side, inviting me into her neck.

I resisted; barely. I caressed her arse, gently, but she still winced slightly. I moved to the wall, and pressed a button.

"Wait through here."

I gestured, and she walked unsteadily into a small cloakroom.

"You can freshen up, and my Other will be along shortly to take you wherever you wish to go. I need you to be safe."

Anticipating something, I silenced her with a finger to her lips; wet, smeared, sexy as hell. I lightly pushed my finger inside her mouth, she sighed, licking it, licking her from it. I closed the door gently.

I walked past the frame, on my way from the room.

A firm tug, easily snapped the hook from the rope. The safety thread, served its purpose nicely. Her mind did the rest.

From my den, I could hear a stifled sob; a door open. No words. Other wasn't allowed to talk.

A lock, unlocked; a door clicking shut. The muffled 'ding' of a lift. Silence.

Other had prepared everything for me. I removed my cuff links; into the bowl. My belt from my trousers; for Other, later. Clothes, folded.

I picked up the wine glass, and descended the steps into the floor bath, the hot, scented water, searing my skin.

I was pleasantly surprised with tonight.

She will be Considered.

The Other?

She knew she had made a terrible error; the door to the kitchen should ALWAYS be closed! She knew that. And now she would have to face the consequences.

The Other returned later that evening.

She stood silently outside of his door. Her heart banged against her ribs, threatening to burst out. She knocked... Hesitantly. Five minutes passed. Did he hear? Should I knock again? She raised her ha...

"Come in please."

His words froze her hand, rattled her heart, made her shiver, made her legs buckle ever so slightly, made her wet; all at once and instantly.

Other, walked in...