The Pleasure of the Pain

He had never told me his name.

That realization hit me suddenly, forcefully, as I hesitated in the doorway of the large, immaculate, well-appointed suite. The very upscale hotel clearly lived up to its advertising -- which used words like "discerning tastes," "classically comfortable," and even "the ideal destination for enjoyment of discrete leisure activities."

No wonder he'd chosen it.

"You seem surprised to be here," he said softly, his voice shiveringly smooth in the soft light.

"I am," I admitted, a little unnerved at the cool stillness of the man in the armchair on the other side of the room. "I didn't really think I was going to come."

My hand gripped the doorknob. His smile was reassuring, but I sensed the simmering tension just underneath. I hesitated another second or two, then stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind me.

"Come here, Vanessa." His voice drew me deeper into the room, toward him, till I stopped just a foot from his chair. I looked down into his eyes. They were darker than I'd noticed from the photographs he had sent; almost black. His voice, previously heard only by telephone, was warmer, richer, more intimate. Only his hair seemed familiar, its thick silvery-black waves contained only by the pony tail behind his head. God, his hair was gorgeous.

"You are even more beautiful than your pictures revealed," he said, echoing my thoughts. His voice was low as his eyes painted me. I could almost feel the strokes of the artist's brush, starting at the top of my auburn hair, lingering over the curves outlined by the blue wrap-style dress clung to my curves, and finishing at the toes of my pointed high-heeled pumps. "Elegant. Graceful. Exactly as I expected. Beautiful."

"You asked me—," I began, and then stopped when his voice interrupted:

"I asked you to dress in such a way as to reveal to me the woman you are, and you've more than satisfied my expectations. Vanessa, I know you are nervous about being here. I know you are -- uncertain -- about what we've talked about doing." He paused, allowing me to process his words, even to object to them, had I chosen to do so. But I didn't. "My first question to you is, are you willing to show me more?"

I knew perfectly well what he was asking. Our conversations had begun in a chat room late one night when I was alone and bored and under great pressure before a trial, and had progressed to some very intimate telephone calls. We had gradually narrowed the subject matter from the generally erotic to the specifically, blatantly, explosively sexual.

There was no question that he was a Master. Indeed, he acknowledged it directly, when I asked. He told me he practiced BDSM in real life, as well as on line, and that he never did anything on line that he hadn't first done for real. But rather than demand my participation from the beginning, he was willing simply to discuss the subject with me, accepting both my curiosity and my ambivalence at face value.

He had asked if I could take direction well, and if I enjoyed being directed - sexually. I readily admitted that I do. He had made clear his need to be completely in control, and I had found myself more and more strongly attracted to the power he projected.

Over time, he asked me questions, defining my personal boundaries. He asked if I had ever played with nipple clamps, restraints, blindfolds, and with each question, we explored a scenario acting out the subject in question. He showed surprising consideration for so dominant a man, never trying to force me to participate in any activity, even an imaginary one, I wasn't ready to try.

One night as we talked about favorite fantasies, he asked me if I had ever had sex with another woman. I told him I hadn't, but for the right man, I would be willing, even eager, to do it. He said he knew a woman who was willing to play out a fantasy like this, if I was willing to join them. He would arrange it, and all I would have to do is show up at the appointed time and place.

I was here. The decision had already been made.

Without speaking, I opened the fastening of the soft blue dress, and let it slide down my shoulders to the floor. I stood there in my black lace bra and matching bikini panties. He smiled, eyes gleaming, and placed the palm of his hand lightly against the front of those panties, then moved it upward. I couldn't help shivering, though his hands were warm and gentle. He stood, took my hand, and led me into the bedroom.

He introduced me to the girl, standing there quietly beside the windows occupying one wall. She was naked. I could see in the soft light illuminating the room that she was about 5'3", with smooth olive skin and long, dark hair. She was a submissive, he told me, and was required to do whatever I wanted. I had no idea what that might be, but I knew he was testing me. I paused and walked to where she stood, eyes down, hands behind her back. To cover my uncertainty I told her to go to him and undressed him. She smiled, clearly pleased at these instructions, and removed his clothes. Her eager fingers revealed his lean, smoothly muscled body and thick, large cock. He was very hard.

I thought about what he might enjoy having her do, what might please him, so I told her to stroke herself, to run her hands up and down her body, starting with her breasts. I asked, and she told me she wore a size 32DD bra. Her fingers lingered over her very large, brownish nipples, and admitted, when I asked, that they were tingling. I could see they were swollen, engorged, but she didn't pinch them. I assumed that would wait until I gave her permission.

I told her to put her fingers between her legs, over her slit, and spread the moisture from her pussy all over. She told me how kind and gentle I was, which annoyed me; I hadn't given her permission to speak. Besides, I didn't want her thinking I was also a submissive. Abruptly, then, I told her to kneel in front of him and take his cock in her mouth.

She did it eagerly. She dropped to her knees and her head came back, looking up into his eyes. I couldn't see her expression, but her pose was so adoring I had no doubt what I'd have seen. He was watching me, and I had the eerie feeling he was reading my thoughts; perhaps it was my face he was reading, and he knew I needed help in establishing my position over his little sub. He put his hand out and stroked her hair, the dark strands slipping through his fingers, and then he gripped her hair, hard, and shoved his cock in deep into her mouth. Unprepared, she gasped, and made a whimpering little sound, and as he thrust in I heard him draw his breath in sharply.

"Look how she accepts it," he groaned through gritted teeth. "Look how good a little submissive she is. Oh yes, look at her choking over my cock," and his voice trailed off.

He loved doing this to her. I could see it in his laser-bright eyes burning into hers, I could hear it in the way his sexy voice deepened and trailed off. Every little gagging, choking sound she made drew an answering groan of pleasure from him. I shuddered, shocked, but too fascinated to look away.

As if knowing he could not last long that way, he pulled his cock from her mouth as abruptly as he'd shoved it in. The little submissive coughed, and the long strings of saliva clinging from her lips to his cock linked her to him. She made a whimpering little cry of disappointment, and he laughed, holding her head between his big hands and rubbing the head of his cock over her mouth and chin and face.

As he did, he told me to come and sit on the floor, behind her, close enough to spread my legs apart and wrap them around her hips, putting my thighs over the calf muscles extending behind her. He told me to take my fingers and spread my pussy lips open, so that over her head he could see me sitting there, totally exposed to his view.

I did it, looking up into his eyes, now fastened on me, burning like hot coals in his head as he again slid his cock into her mouth, but slowly this time. He licked his lips, and I knew he could see how wet I was. The juices were running down my crack, and he was fucking her sweet little mouth slowly, more deeply, more excited by the minute. I suspected some of her moans were exaggerated, precisely for that effect. Sharply, I told her to stop whimpering and to put on the nipple clamps I gave her. She hesitated for only a second, and then she obeyed me.

Heat rocketed through me. I had never felt power like that before. I was so wet, so aroused, and seeing her respond to what I told her made the whole situation unbelievably hot. And he laughed. I knew then that my excitement, my reaction, was exactly what he had been waiting for. I was giving him exactly what he wanted.

Breathing heavily, he pulled his gleaming wet cock out of her mouth and stepped away. She was mine, he told me, and he would be watching everything I did to her. She shot him a pleading look as she coughed and gasped, there on her knees, and he moved to an overstuffed sofa a few feet away.

I thought for a moment, letting the anticipation build, then I got on my knees behind her, and ordered her to bend forward as she knelt in front of me, facing away. I heard the thin metal chains from the nipple clamps brushing the floor, and saw she was trembling. I imagined it was a little from pain, a little from excitement, and a little from pure fear. Knowing that sent surprising, shivering pleasure through me.

I slid my hands between her legs and felt the slippery liquid from her pussy dripping down onto my fingers, and then slid my hands slowly up, smearing that sweet hot juice up over the curves of her ass. My thumb trailed up that crease as far as I could, with firm, slow, steady pressure, tantalizing her, and she moaned in response. I leaned forward, covering her, and licked the outer edge of her ear, and then sank my teeth into the soft sweet skin just below her jaw line.

"That's good," I whispered, as she gasped. "You're such a tender little thing. That's so good," and I moved my hands up her back till they lightly scraped her scalp. Then I took a handful of her dark hair and jerked her head back upright, sharply, biting her again, farther down her neck, harder now. This time she didn't just gasp, she cried out, sharply, and I laughed softly against her damp, creamy skin, overwhelmed at the power I felt.

With her head held back against me and her rapid, shivering breath fanning my excitement, I reached around her and took one of her breasts in my hand. They were so smooth, so heavy, firm to the touch. My fingers brushed the nipple clamp. It was smooth metal, and her nipple stuck out between the prongs of the clamp, reddened and tender looking. I felt her body sway toward my fingers as I brushed them over her breast, and then I repeated it on her other breast, and she closed her eyes.

I had her attention now. I let go of her hair and used both hands, stroking her breasts, licking my fingers till the saliva made her tits all wet and slick, and then I licked a path down the back of her neck. She gave a small, high-pitched little moan, and as I moved my tongue down between her shoulders blades her head dropped back. I released her nipples and moved my palms down over her ribs, and moved them further down her body as my tongue moved farther down her spine. She was shivering under this treatment, and began pushing her hips back against my tongue as I slid it down her crease. They then surged forward as my fingers found her stiffened little clit. The rhythm was building, she was close, but abruptly I stopped and moved to stand directly in front of her.

"No," I said firmly, leaning close to her face. "You don't come unless I tell you to. You are mine, do you understand that?"

She nodded, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged, and the scent of her juices confirmed her arousal. "Then you will have to satisfy me, won't you. You'll have to make me cum, and then make me cum again, and if I tell you to, you can do him too, and then maybe me again. And if you're good," she trembled, all panting eagerness, "if you are really, really good, and do what I tell you, and take everything I want you to take, then I will think about letting you cum too. Is that clear?"

She made some small sign of rebellion, as if thinking, "I'll come when I want, and there is nothing you can do to stop me." I wanted her to know that I knew what she was thinking, so I placed my fingertips onto the clamps holding her nipples. She seemed to believe I was going to stroke her again into soothing, sweet pleasure, so the shock she felt when I pinched her, hard, and twisted those nipple clamps must have been electric. Her high-pitched little wail drew a response from her Master; he growled his approval, and told her how much her pain pleased him. I reached down and put my fingers between her legs. She was dripping wet, and scaldingly hot.

But then, so was I, and I had an overpowering urge to work her. To use her. I had heard these words before, but had never understood how they felt. Through my own adrenaline rush, I made her move to the sofa, to the opposite end from her Master, and sit on the floor, her back against it, and lean her head back while I climbed over her face. I straddled her lovely face, one knee on either side, my hands gripping the back of the sofa. I told her to stick out her tongue, but I wouldn't let her do anything else at all, till she proved she could obey me. To test her, I rubbed my hot, sticky cunt over her tongue, not letting her move at all. I forced her to sit perfectly still, with her tongue thrust out, and I used her tongue like a dildo, massaging it into my clit, my pussy dripping down her tongue, but I wouldn't let her swallow it, I wouldn't let her open her lips any farther, and it didn't take long at all before I was squirming on her tongue, gripping her hair with both hands, using her face like a towel to wipe all the dripping hot honey from my pussy without even letting her taste it.

After I came on her face, I moved down and put my lips on hers, hard, and she thought I was going to kiss her. I felt her mouth open, and I put my tongue inside and took as much of that juice as I could, and then pulled away and licked all the rest of the cream off her, leaving her whimpering for more. I slapped her hard enough to sting, and she gasped with surprise. Her Master made a sound, a deep muffled groan, and I glanced over to see him slowly stroking his big cock, his fingers gripping tight. Turning back to her, I told her to be a good little sub, and I would let her have whatever she proved to me she deserved. She was breathing hard, half-crying; her frown told me she wasn't quite ready to submit, and I laughed, amazed at my own exhilaration.

I made her sit on the edge of the sofa with her thighs spread wide, burying my face between her legs. Her pussy was soaking wet, and I could smell, and taste, her arousal, and though I had never done it to a woman before, I couldn't believe how intoxicating it was to feel her body respond. I pushed two fingers inside her hot little hole, hard enough to make her gasp, and then I pulled them out, leaving it gaping open so my tongue went right inside her heated little body. I licked her, slowly, moving up from there, pressing the flat part of my tongue hard against her tender, nearly purple skin, all the way up to her clit. When I felt her tighten, I moved away.

"No," I told her as I stood. "You don't deserve that pleasure. You deserve only to get close to it and then have me deny it. To torture you with it. But I will show you what pleasure you could be having if you were the obedient little slave that you should be."

I turned to her Master, smiling. When I moved within reach he seemed to leap, as if to devour me, pulling me onto his lap. His teeth bit sharply enough to leave marks on my throat as he quickly stripped off my bra. He then attacked my breasts, my nipples, and his long, skilled fingers rubbing my pussy had me moaning and wet in a very short time. But he knew what I wanted; this wasn't simply about getting off. I wanted to show her what she was missing, and he knew it. So he held back, letting me set the pace.

I went right onto my knees and went down on him, sucking him, slurping the precum dripping from his cock, and he crooned how good it was, showing his pleasure so openly, so freely, he nearly made me come. I lingered over it, tasting the precum, playing with it, rubbing it over my lips and making her watch. I asked him to let me fuck him in front of her, and he nodded, smiling at her as he spread his legs and held me as I sank down fast, hard onto his stiff shaft. I took him inside like my pussy was on fire and his cock was sweet cool water, facing away from him, facing the little sub.

She was crying now, and I asked her if this was what she wanted, if she wanted his big, hard cock shoved into her tight little cunt. Her tears sent something like hot molten lava down my passage, soaking his cock. I laughed again. I told her to watch, to look very closely, and I made her bring her face right down to my pussy and see how he was filling me. She knelt. I saw her trembling and licking her lips as I moved up and down on his shaft, my juices dripping down, soaking his balls. His hands gripped my hips and he pressed deep into me, and I knew he was torturing her. The heat seared through me, nearly making me wild, and I wanted to do more to her, so I raised my pussy up off his cock and told her to lick it. She did it, like a cat lapping at a saucer of milk, and I nearly lost consciousness.

When I pulled my cunt away from her eager little mouth, she whimpered. She liked eating pussy, there was no doubt about that. Then I moved up higher, so the head of his cock was pressing against my ass. I was on fire, I knew this was going to feel good, I knew it would burn like flame and hurt like sweet torment, it would feel like it was too big to go in me there, and I was trembling for it so much I could hardly wait. But I wanted to torture her. I pushed her head down, closer, and told her to watch, watch where he shoved his cock, watch as it sank inside me, deep, and as I said it I pushed her down harder and took the head of that cock inside my ass, gasping, nearly shrieking at first, and his deep groan was clearly audible even over my cries. Her eyes were glazed with passion, and with pain, as she watched it sinking into me.

"Oh, you want that, don't you," I said, gasping, my eyes never leaving her, my voice fierce. She nodded, her eyes glued to that cock as it went into my tight little hole. "I know you want it, you want to feel as good as I feel right now, but you can't, you can't have it, not yet. Show me how bad you want it. Lick my cunt again, lick my juicy wet little pussy. Make me scream."

Immediately she buried her face between my thighs, her tongue working me, thrusting into my pussy as his cock went in deeper. She wanted his cock. I felt her moving her tongue down like she intended to lick him and I thrust one hand into her hair, and jerked her head up, hard.

"Not yet, no, not yet. Keep licking me, lick me, use that nasty little tongue of yours right here, right on my clit," and I spread my pussy lips open with my other hand and shoved her head down, pushing it firmly against me.

She obeyed, her tongue sliding up and around my clit, and she licked me once, firmly, and then moved just a fraction away so she could flick that wet little tongue over my clit, so fast I couldn't count how many times it brushed me, and I pressed her head closer, just a little closer.

"Put your fingers in me right now, do it, finger fuck me, nasty little slut girl, do it now," and I felt two fingers slide right in, and then another, and she pushed them in hard and slithered her tongue all over me like a snake and I came, gripping her hair so hard she squealed, my thighs squeezing her face so tight she couldn't move, she couldn't do anything but keep licking, keep fingering, keep pleasuring me. I came so hard my bucking hips forced his cock inside me as deep as it would go, and he fucked me just like that, hard, his cock pushing deep into me and pulling out slightly before shoving in again, harder than before.