Two Halves
Every inch of the tall, statuesque blond that stepped off the elevator, perfectly balanced on a pair of moderately high heels, looked utterly professional. From the well pressed suit jacket and matching skirt, over a crisp white blouse unbuttoned just enough to provide a hint of what lay beneath without being obscene, to the perfectly aligned stockings sheathing her long legs with a hint of the garters holding them up visible as she walked, and the immaculately applied makeup enhancing her already striking features. Striding confidently down the hallways, as if she knew exactly where she was going, the woman unconsciously raised a hand to check her hair, confirming that the blonde locks were still confined in their loose bun, a few strands breaking free after a long day but even that imperfection only seemed to add to her allure. Smiling faintly with rosy lips she paused for a heartbeat to straighten out her clothes and brush an imaginary piece of lint from her suit coat, her grin growing just a notch as hands passed the familiar bands of the chastity belt that encircled her waist. Closing her eyes briefly and taking a breath, the woman allowed herself a moment to idly explore the edges of the stainless steel through her clothes, licking her lips ever so slightly in anticipation.
It wouldn’t be much longer now.
Satisfied with her inspection, and forcing her hands back to her sides, she took a quick breath to calm her nerves (it was an important day, after all) and took the last few strides to her destination before reaching up to gently knock on the door. The sound was loud, almost thunderous in the empty hall, drowned out in her ears only by the rapid beating of her heart, but as much as the moment seemed to stretch out no more than a minute, perhaps two passed before the loud click of a lock being unlatched filled the air and the door opened fully on silent hinges. She was expected, after all. If her own appearance, standing in what looked like the hallway of a nondescript apartment building, was incongruous then the woman who greeted her was practically outrageous in contrast. Of course, that too was expected. The girl in the doorway was a number of years younger and her polar opposite in virtually every way. Where she bore all the signs of a professional, of a career woman, everything from the style of her clothes to her hair and makeup all screamed fresh from the office, the girl standing in the doorway was anything but. Hot pink hair with a touch of blonde at the roots tumbled past her shoulders, pulled back to reveal numerous piercings in her ears and framing an extremely pale face. Heavily shadowed brown eyes regarded her evenly while crimson lips, with a pair of thin rings through the lower lip, quirked into a slight smile of familiar greeting. But it was below the neck that things got truly… interesting.
Around the girl’s long, pale throat was a collar of mirror polished steel with a small brass padlock sealing it shut, marking her status, as did a set of almost identical steel bands around her wrists and ankles. Her clothes, more a costume really, bore a passing resemblance to a maid’s uniform, but only if said maid had just stepped from the pages of a fetish magazine. The dress’s plunging v-neck went nearly to her waist, leaving firm breasts capped with rosy nipples (each also pierced with a small silver ring) on full display. The almost criminally short skirt, which left her own garters holding up a set of torn fishnet stockings on full display, also exposed just enough shiny stainless steel to reveal the chastity belt imprisoning her sex. Combined with a set of shiny patent leather stilettos that the girl balanced on effortlessly it was an incredibly striking, and incredibly arousing, image. No matter how many times she visited, it never seemed to matter just how short her own skirt was or how many buttons she had left open, the blonde always felt so grossly overdressed.
“Lady Evelyn.” the girl said after a long moment, “Welcome back. If you would please follow me? Mistress will be with you in a moment.”
Shaking herself loose from her thoughts, Evelyn returned the girl’s smile, “Of course, Ophelia. It would be my pleasure.”
With a nod of acknowledgment the girl turned, leading her guest into the apartment and revealing that her dress also sported a plunging backline that granted a full view of the riot of black lines tattooed on her back and a lifted skirt that left her sashaying ass, bisected as it was by the band of her chastity belt, hanging out for the world to see. Evelyn fought down a familiar surge of arousal and followed the “maid,” closing and locking the door behind her. As always she was struck by just how utterly ordinary this place looked, hardly the apartment one would expect to find a dominatrix in. A simple, comfortable living area and dining room leading off to a galley kitchen on the side with a short hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms beyond. No risque pieces of art, no insidious devices or modified furniture, just a home, if one turned towards an odd purpose. Then again, perhaps that was the point, that, like her, it hid its secrets well. Oblivious to her thoughts, Ophelia led to the center of the room and, with a silent gesture, pointed to a cushion set onto the floor of the living area. With an equally silent nod of acknowledgment, Evelyn wordlessly knelt down upon it, clasping her hands behind her back in a deliberately submissive gesture before dropping her head obediently. However, she allowed herself a moment’s indulgence to watch Ophelia walk away, presumably to summon her mistress, all the while admiring the taut lines of the slave’s body and the sheer amount of it that was on display.
It had taken her a long time to piece together the aspects and relationships of this particular home, but after many visits and months of pondering what she had discovered was certainly interesting. Truth be told she had started coming here roughly eight months ago, on what Evelyn could admit was little more than a bit of idle curiosity. She could still remember each and every one of the steps that had led her down that hall for the first time. A night out with friends, drinks flowing freely and the conversation turning, as it always seemed to, toward sex. What’s the strangest thing you’ve done? The naughtiest? The most enjoyable? Most of what had been said had long since faded into complete obscurity, a blur of laughter and increasingly embarrassing stories, but one bit of conversation had been burned into her mind for all time: bondage. Oh, she had known what it was, of course, at least a little bit and had even played around herself once or twice but it had never been a part of her sex life in any real way. But as her friends teased each other for details, as story after story was told, Evelyn realized that she hadn’t understood at all. Bondage was so much more than a pair of fuzzy handcuffs or a bit of tape. It was a whole world unto itself. Her curiosity had grown all through the night, as had her arousal, and exploration of the internet on the days following had only broadened that curiosity. Before she knew it Evelyn had a hard drive full of pictures, a library of videos and a burning need to try it for herself, at least once. Of course, ‘how’ became the tricky part. She had learned about self-bondage in her explorations, but her few forays into the subject had been harder than expected and deeply unsatisfying as a result. But a bit of subtle questioning, and more internet searches, had revealed that there were professionals who catered to such things. It had honestly sounded a bit like prostitution at the time, but that had actually aroused her more and so, her search had begun. Evelyn had never been one to believe much in fate but she wasn’t sure what else to call it when she had quite literally run into Lady Alys at a nightclub.
Even in her current submissive posture, Evelyn smirked a bit. She must have looked far more dejected than she’d realized that night to have attracted the concern of a complete stranger. And she must have been far more tipsy than she’d realized to have spilled out her heart to said stranger, but she’d ended that night with a business card, an offer, and a kiss on the cheek that she still remembered in her dreams. That first time had been one hell of an experience from the moment Ophelia greeted her at the door. The young slave had numerous costumes, all of them quite indecent, and on their first meeting Evelyn was sure her jaw and the floor had become quite well acquainted. She frowned slightly in thought, what exactly had it been that time? The corset? The catsuit? The Catholic schoolgirl outfit? It bothered her a bit that she couldn’t remember, but that had only been the first of a series of shocks. Alys, as she had discovered, was every bit as eccentric as her slave. Taller, curvier, but just as pale, the young mistress moved like a tiger, every step charged with sensuality, with power, her exotic appearance giving her an odd, dangerous sort of beauty outshone only by her sensuality. But on that first meeting it had been the byplay between the two that caught her attention. At first, Evelyn had assumed that Ophelia was an assistant, an employee who acted and dressed in such a manner to add ambiance to the performance. A bit of window dressing in a way, but when she had seen that look in Alys’ sea green eyes when she gazed at her slave, or Ophelia’s utter adoration of her mistress in turn, it was impossible for them to be mistaken for anything but two people deeply in love, if an unconventional love. She could admit to herself that right then she had not really understood, but in addition to everything else that she was, Alys was a very, very good teacher. Understanding had come soon enough under those clever hands.
The experience was indescribable, that really was the only word Evelyn could find that even began to encompass all that had happened to her that night and she had been searching for a long time. Being stripped and bound, being utterly dominated by the powerful woman she was kneeling in front of, had been a major turn on in and of itself, but it was more than that. In the midst of being restrained and controlled, of being rendered utterly helpless in a way that she had never experienced before, the stress and tension she felt constantly, the crushing weight of authority and responsibility she bore seemed to evaporate, vanishing like a mist as she gave up control. It was relaxing in some strange way, a release that was almost sexual in its own right. She’d had no words then, still didn’t, she just knew that it felt good, oh so very good, and she wanted more. As she had been bound and punished Alys worked her flesh with obscene precision, made her body sing with all the skill of a maestro guiding an orchestra, and just when Evelyn was sure that there was nothing else, no higher peak or plateau that she could be forced to reach, Alys fucked her as a final act.
It had been one of the most intense orgasms of her entire life as well as her first time with a woman. Not quite enough to make her wear a pin and declare herself a card carrying lesbian, but enough to make her think. Hell, as soon as the gag was out of her mouth she scheduled a second appointment. And so it had continued, ever since. Each week she arrived here at exactly the same time and spent what felt like hours in bound bliss as Alys initiated her into ever more intense forms of bondage. Proving that not only were there higher peaks but that the surface itself had barely been scratched. Ropes, leather, steel, rubber, plugs, clamps, toys of all shapes and sizes, an endless parade of fetish gear, and gags so big she’d feared they would never fit in her mouth until they did. She’d experienced them all, each week bringing some new revelation, some new game that she had never even imagined.
However, about six months ago Evelyn had introduced a game of her own when she’d arrived for her weekly appointment with a box. Over time she had grown curious about something in particular, namely Ophelia’s chastity belt. It, along with her collar, were the only two things the girl always seemed to wear and Evelyn had learned that she not only literally lived in the thing, but had been doing so for years. Never one to think overmuch of curious cats, she had purchased one for herself and had tentatively begun to experiment. It was a strange feeling. Not just the physical presence of the belt as it squeezed her body, but the fact that she was unable to touch herself with it on. However, the knowledge that she could always unlock herself whenever she wanted had diminished the experience somehow and so she had approached her mistress. Alys had been highly amused at the entire situation, but had nevertheless agreed to lock her up and keep the keys. In retrospect that had been one of the hardest things Evelyn had ever had to do. Learning how to move all over again, learning to tolerate the belt, clean the belt, or deal with the near constant arousal that being locked in steel and unable to masturbate had brought on, but she had adapted. And she had adapted again when Alys introduced new toys, toys that apparently Ophelia also endured, a large stainless steel dildo that filled her utterly along with a butt plug that doubled as an enema nozzle and, worst of all, a tiny loop of wire covered in soft rubber that rode her clit like a stirrup, keeping her on the edge of orgasm constantly but never letting her go. How many nights had she spent crying in utter frustration as that devious little clip had tortured her? She couldn’t even begin to count at this point.
It was hell, it was bliss, it was everything she had come to crave.
And for all those hardships Evelyn had come to relish her chastity belt. The way it made her feel, the way it allowed her to carry a bit of her bondage everywhere she went and the harsh control of her own body it represented, not to mention the truly epic orgasms she had experienced during her weekly release and cleaning. Somewhere along the way, though, the game had evolved, grown more intense. Weekly release had become monthly release and then, three months ago, an experiment had begun and she stopped enjoying release at all. The belt was still removed for cleaning once a week, but now instead of being pleasured she was teased relentlessly by Alys’ long fingers or Ophelia’s obscenely skilled tongue, ridden hard and locked up very wet. If not for the fact that she knew Ophelia received the same torments, Evelyn would have sworn she was the horniest woman alive. Even then it might still be true. But tonight, tonight things would change again.
“Woolgathering, my pretty one?”
Evelyn stiffened slightly as that achingly familiar voice washed over her, before forcing herself to relax. It was a bit embarrassing, but she had grown so lost in her thoughts that she’d failed to notice Mistress Alys arrive. Keeping her eyes firmly on the floor, a blush on her cheeks, she forced her voice to stay steady, “My apologies, mistress.”
“Forgiven.” the voice called back, almost flippantly, while the sound of bare feet padding across carpet announced her approach.
Cautiously, Evelyn allowed herself to look up, a burning curiosity filling her mind as to what her mistress looked like that night. Often the costume provided some slender insight into the nature of the game the woman was planning, though it had also taken a long time for her to piece together those clues and even now she often failed. When blue eyes at last dared look up, she felt her throat go dry. Counter to all expectations Alys was completely naked, every inch of her slender, curvaceous body on full display, her pale skin practically glowing beneath the lights. Evelyn honestly wasn’t sure what that meant. Alys always wore some type of costume, a corset if nothing else, for her to be completely nude was, well, it was unappreciated in the blonde’s experience. Completely unconcerned by that look, or her own lack of clothing, Alys began to circle the kneeling woman like a wolf studying its prey or a lion sizing up a kill, idly caressing said prey with the riding crop she was carrying.
“Remove your jacket.”
Shivering as the crop trailed over her shoulders and behind her back, Evelyn obeyed wordlessly, abandoning all thoughts as she shucked off the suit coat and carefully folded the jacket before setting it aside neatly. Alys did not tolerate sloppiness from her subs, after all, and was quick to make her displeasure known.
Circling around front again, Alys used the riding crop to open the blonde’s blouse just a bit more, smiling faintly at what she found, “No bra.”
Evelyn fought the urge to nod, “As you commanded, mistress.”
Humming deep in her throat, the dominatrix resumed her inspection, “Indeed, indeed. Remove the rest, but leave the stockings and the shoes.”
Evelyn knew better than to speak, unless she had been asked a question and so once again wordlessly obeyed her mistress. With practiced fingers she untucked her blouse and opened all of the buttons in quick succession, easing the garment off her shoulders and folding it upon her coat. The skirt followed quickly, leaving her clad only her stockings and chastity belt. Although it had been designed to remain unobtrusive beneath clothing, she was still required to wear her clothes just a bit looser to hide the belt, as such most of her everyday wear did not truly emphasize her narrow waist or impressive bust. Freed from such constraints her taut, tanned flesh now displayed its full beauty. Clucking her tongue idly, Alys again circled the kneeling woman, occasionally granting Evelyn a view of the tattoos that covered most of her body, particularly the stark tribal pattern that ran from foot to fingernails on her right side and the Japanese print etched from thigh to wrist on her left. It also put the kneeling sub at the perfect height to view her mistress’ cleanly shaven sex and the truly staggering number of intimate piercings she had, the slender stainless steel rings glinting amid pink flesh. Evelyn swallowed, hard, her tongue aching to taste the woman once again but she forced herself to remain perfectly still.
Alys seemed not to notice, but then again it was hard to pierce the woman’s almost enigmatic exterior, “Rise, hands behind your back.”
Evelyn instantly stood, almost instinctively obeying the command, clasping her wrists firmly behind her back as she carefully kept her eyes on the floor. For several long seconds nothing seemed to happen, then Evelyn gasped as a pair of hands found her. Humming to herself, Alys began to explore the blonde’s body, running her fingers up and down toned arms and gliding along her rib cage, tracing the edges of each and every bone before exploring a flat stomach and the generous curves of her ass. Evelyn gasped again, shivering beneath that touch and feeling her already stiff nipples harden even more as those hands found her breasts, teasing and kneading softly, yet insistently, as hot breath passed over her exposed neck and another pair of breasts pressed against her back, hard nipples and the rings pierced through them them scraping against her skin in a maddening caress. A soft kiss touched her shoulder before an even softer whisper reached her ears.
“Ophelia, bring them.”
Evelyn’s attention was again drawn up as the pink-haired slave returned, still clad in her outrageous uniform, and carrying a cardboard box in both hands. The girl glided up to their side and bowed her head submissively before holding the box out for her mistress’s inspection. Alys smiled briefly at her slave before she opened the containers and perused the still hidden contents within. After what felt like an eternity, Evelyn saw the woman hold up a black leather monoglove out of the corner of her eye. It was a familiar restraint and, closing her eyes, she simply felt, offering no resistance as her mistress slipped the glove over her arms and zipped it up tight before pulling the straps over her shoulders, drawing them between her beasts and buckling them tight rendering her utterly helpless. She gave only the slightest of gasps as the glove was tightened a moment later, forcing her elbows together snugly. It had taken a long time before she was flexible enough to manage that for more than a few seconds, but given the way it improved her posture and forced her breasts to stand out, the effort was well worth it. Her eyes opened again when she felt something gliding gently up her stomach only to see her mistress teasing her by rubbing a gag against her body. Without command, Evelyn opened her mouth and accepted the cherry red ball, feeling it click tightly behind her teeth and grunting slightly as the strap was tightened almost brutally. She had worn larger and more extreme gags, of course, but this one was the perfect mix of comfort and fullness, and the sensation of having her mouth packed just made her wet.
Well, wetter anyway.
Suddenly, Alys spun her around and Evelyn had to concentrate for a moment to keep her balance on high heels before she found herself looking into her mistress’ face, sea green eyes rimmed with kohl and deeply shadowed cutting through her. The blonde allowed herself a moment to silently study that face, as always the same yet subtly different. Wild, raven dark hair with streaks of platinum blonde in the bangs framed her pale face and flowed down her back, but unlike Ophelia’s, which only just reached past shoulder length, their mistress’s hair fell much further, almost half way down her back. A ring passed through her left nostril and three slightly larger rings studded her lower lip, lips painted a red so deep it appeared black and twisted into a small grin, just revealing a hint of straight, white teeth. Leaning in, she pressed a tiny kiss to the ball filling Evelyn’s mouth and parted her lips to speak, revealing evidence of a pair of tongue studs, one near the tip and the other further back.
Taking in the sight of the blonde’s helplessly bound form, Alys’ smile widened into one of honest affection, “There we are. Almost ready.”
Holding out her hand expectantly, Ophelia again obeyed the silent command and pressed a key to her mistress’s palm as Evelyn quivered in anticipation. Holding up the key like a prize, Alys smiled again, far more wickedly, before finally reaching down to unlock the blonde’s chastity belt. Even so she took her time, drawing out the moment and deeply amused by the way the bound woman fidgeted despite her best efforts. With a soft click the smaller of the two padlocks sealing the belt opened, allowing the secondary shield to be removed and revealing the swollen lips of Evelyn’s labia poking through the belt’s slot and her throbbing clit constrained by the clip both imprisoning and teasing it. Evelyn could not help but shiver as the small band of perforated metal was pulled away and cool air caressed her slit, only to moan in abject relief as the clit clip was removed next. Sighing as that little monster vanished, disappearing into the box with the secondary shield, Evelyn moaned even louder into her gag as the second padlock was removed and her belt was finally opened. A cry of pleasure and longing escaped her next at the belt was pulled away in one swift motion and the plugs that had filled her front and back were finally removed. It always felt so strange, after being full for so long, to be so suddenly empty but she had no time to rest, Alys was not done yet. The pale woman slipped silently behind Evelyn’s back and the blonde gasped again as a corset was wrapped around her waist, the half-cups lifting and separating her breasts to an even greater degree. That gasp became a moan as Alys began to tighten it crushingly, driving the air from the bound woman’s lungs and forcing her already wasp waisted body into an almost impossibly perfect hourglass. After that, Alys’ grin was triumphant as she circled the blonde one last time and secured a leather collar around her slender throat before stepping back to admire the flushed and panting woman.
Raising a hand to her chin in an almost exaggerated display, the young mistress seemed to ponder the vision before her, “Still something missing.” she glanced over to where Ophelia was still standing obediently, “What do you think, pet?”
Looking up, Ophelia’s brown eyes wandered over the blonde’s bound form for a long moment before she cocked her head to the side and glanced at Alys, “Her hair would look better down, mistress.”
Nodding faintly, Alys stepped closer and reached up to release Evelyn’s hair from its bun, allowing a wave of honey-gold to fall down about her shoulders. Gently brushing a few stray strands from her sub’s face, the brunette grinned, “Much better. You have a keen eye, pet. Why don’t you see to those things while we begin?”
“Thank you, mistress.” Ophelia responded softly, bowing her head obediently even as happiness radiated from her posture, “I will see to it at once.”
Nodding faintly in acknowledgment as the pink-haired girl turned and began to walk deeper into the apartment to complete her task, Alys glanced over at her sub with a grin, “Hate to see ‘em go, but love to watch ‘em leave, right?”
Blushing faintly as she realized she’d been caught staring at Ophelia’s ass, Evelyn gave a tiny nod of agreement, only to cry out into her gag when Alys gave her a short, sharp swat to her own ass, making her jump in surprise.
Looping a finger through the ring on her collar, Alys pulled gently, forcing their eyes to meet, “This way, my pretty one. You’ve got a long, hard night in front of you.”
Moaning in excitement, Evelyn bowed her head as she was led to the hallway that opened up into the deeper areas of the apartment by her collar. The door on the left, she knew, opened to the large bedroom shared by Alys and Ophelia, a room she had only caught glimpses of now and then, while the first door on the right was the bathroom, a rather conventional white tile affair. Just past that a second door was almost always closed, but once or twice she had seen hints, bookshelves and what looked like a desk, enough to convince her it was an office of sorts. But none of that really mattered at the moment. All of Evelyn’s attention was fixed on the door at the very end of the hallway. A door she knew quite well as it led directly to Alys’ playroom. A door that was wide open to reveal all its glory within. Hooks and chains on the ceiling and walls, chests filled with toys, a closet full of fetish gear and numerous other devices that Alys had either constructed or acquired in both her personal and professional lives. Evelyn knew that she had barely experienced even half of what the room had to offer, and doubted she would truly know it all, but just the sight of it made her heart pound in anticipation. However, something immediately caught her eyes, something that hadn’t been there last time. A long hemp rope with knots tied every foot or so had been secured to the far wall and stretched out on the floor, into the hallway and back to the front of the apartment. A rope that Alys guided her to step over, leaving it between her feet.
A quick motion of the hand ordered her to stay put, a gesture that made Evelyn instinctively freeze in place, as Alys took the end of the rope and fed it through a small I-bolt sticking out of the wall at roughly waist height. Slowly and deliberately she began to pull the rope through the hook, tightening it slowly and pulling it upward inch by inch. Evelyn instantly knew what it was meant for and tried to stand up on her tiptoes to escape it, but in her heels it was useless. Her mistress just kept pulling, tighter and tighter, higher and higher until the rough rope was pulled tight against the blonde’s body and practically disappeared into the folds of her overly sensitive sex. She winced slightly, biting down on her gag in a mix of pain and pleasure as the rough cord scraped against her. Seemingly unconcerned, Alys tied the rope securely in place then strode back to Evelyn’s quivering form. Straddling the rope herself, the pale woman reached out and took each of the blonde’s generous breasts in hand, fondling roughly. Unable to help herself, she mewled in pleasure under the sensation as her mistress played with her incredibly sensitive breasts, gasping and then moaning as dark lips took a nipple between them and began to suck. It felt so good, so much so that she barely noticed when Alys switched breasts, teasing her other nipple to rock hardness. Lost in the pleasure of the moment she also did not notice what was about to happen until a stiff clover clamp suddenly clasped onto her free nipple. Screaming into her gag, more in surprise than pain, Evelyn’s eyes snapped open as she tried to pull away, but Alys’ grip on her other breasts held her firmly in place. Grinning almost triumphantly, the brunette looped her finger through the ring at the front of Evelyn’s collar again and forced the sub to bend over, using her free hand to fish the other clamp and its chain under the rope before snapping it into place, eliciting another lovely, muffled scream. Evelyn tried to twist out of the way, but the iron grip on her collar made that impossible and now she was stuck like this. Arms bound behind her back, balanced on a crotch rope with nipple clamps forcing her to bend over sharply.
A sudden swat on her now very vulnerable ass with the riding crop made her squeal in surprise and jump, wincing as the movement tugged on the chain of her nipple clamps, the pressure making them tighten. Alys grinned at her reaction as she stepped to the side, running her hand down Evelyn’s arched back and offering her posterior a much more gentle squeeze, “Now march, my pretty one.”
Evelyn almost couldn’t believe what the woman was saying but that tone of voice brooked no complaints and so, steeling herself, she took a small step, face instantly contorting and teeth biting harshly into the gag as she felt the rope scrape against her. This was nothing at all like struggling against a crotch rope until blessed relief came, this was pure torture, the rough hemp feeling almost like sandpaper on her most delicate flesh. She jumped again when Alys caned her a second time.
“I said, march!” the brunette repeated, voice harsher, the playful lilt gone and replaced with a colder, more commanding tone.
Despite it all Evelyn felt a new flush of heat fill her body. That was a tone that always excited her and frightened her in equal measures, and it was a tone that had accompanied their most intense games. Taking a deep if shaky breath through her nose, Evelyn forced herself to keep walking and forced herself not to jerk as her mistress continued to crop her for moving too slowly. Just the rope was bad enough but she actually screamed into her gag as the first of the knots was pulled through her slit. It felt… she couldn’t even really begin to describe how it felt and, she noted with a creeping fear, there were a lot of knots. It was like walking the gauntlet, the hallway seeming to stretch from feet into miles as she pulled herself along the rope, moaning and occasionally screaming in pain as the knots caught her, or her clamps became stuck and pulled harshly on her nipples, the short, sharp blows of the riding crop forcing her to keep taking step after step when she wanted nothing more than to stop. Things got… blurry eventually, pleasure and pain washing over her body with even the tiniest of movements as each blow of the riding crop fell. When, at long last, she finally stood in the center of the play room, having conquered this particular challenge, Evelyn’s eyes were glazed over in a heady mixture of agony and arousal, tears building as her red, raw sex throbbed in time with her heart and a trail of glistening fluids marked her passage along the rope. When Alys at last untied said rope and let it fall to the floor, she almost collapsed in relief, but her mistress then cupped her agonized pussy and squeezed, making her wince and cry out softly into the gag.
“I see that got a response, eh my pretty one?” Alys whispered, her touch half soothing and half punishing as she continued to massage sore flesh, “You’re so wet, so ready,” those lips almost touched her ear, “so eager. How about this?”
Evelyn cried out in shock as her mistress suddenly grabbed the heavy ring at the end of her monoglove and pulled upwards harshly before clipping it to a short chain that hung from the ceiling, forcing the blonde into a tight strappado. Kneeling down beside her, Evelyn could only watch as Alys threaded the rope out from between the chain of her nipple clamps but, very notably, did not remove them. Instead the woman took a length of twine and cinched it to the thin chain before threading the cord through a small hook on the floor. Evelyn mewled into her gag, shaking her head, begging her mistress not to do what they both knew she was about to do, but the brunette paid her no mind. Tying the twine off tightly, and stretching the blonde’s nipples painfully, Alys flashed a smile and craned back her head to kiss the bound woman on the cheek, but otherwise did not speak as she stood and walked away. The beginnings of tears leaking from her eyes, Evelyn could do nothing but try and keep as still as possible while every quiver, every breath, seemed to tug on the clamps.
Long, tense moments passed as nothing happened, ratcheting up the tension in her gut as well as increasing her already sky high arousal another notch. Anticipation could be the worst kind of torture and Alys was a master of it. A sudden hand touching her ass made the blonde jump slightly in shock, but the insistent tug of the clamps forced her to master the reaction quickly. From experience she knew that the clamps would come off if pulled too hard, and while such an occurrence wouldn’t actually damage her, it would hurt like hell. Alys had a habit (or maybe it was a fetish?) of ripping off clamps at the moment of climax and Evelyn could admit that she rather liked the intensity of the two contrasting sensations. Not that she would ever tell her mistress that. For now, however, the hand on her rear just caressed her skin softly, long nails scratching at her flesh, but not painfully, not yet. She had felt those claws in her back during their most intense lovemaking sessions after all and well knew what it felt like when Alys decided to scratch her. Breathing hard she could only wait but, for better or worse, she did not have to wait long. Pain came soon enough when said hand retreated and slapped the globe of flesh, hard. Evelyn winced at the attention, involuntarily pulling away from the sensation before the clamps forced her back. Her wince grew in intensity, as did her struggles, as the spanking continued, the push and pull of the two sources of pain forcing her to fight down her normal reaction. What felt like an eternity passed, blow after blow raining down upon, cries of pain escaping her tightly gagged mouth, but then as inexplicably as it had begun the spanking stopped.
Several more heartbeats passed as Evelyn hung there, caught between her sore ass and throbbing nipples, tear tracks now running down her cheeks, leaving trails of mascara behind to meet the drool that she could not stop from flowing down her chin.
The sudden *crack* of a leather strap against the air made her whimper and close her eyes tightly. Most people would have assumed she was afraid, but it was excitement more than anything that made her tremble. Evelyn could not say why she enjoyed being beaten, why she relished the marks that lingered on her skin for days but, almost hyperventilating as the tension grew, the blonde practically screamed as a hand touched her ass again, but it was gentle. She almost, almost convinced herself that nothing would happen as those fingers caressed her softly, as if trying to sooth her pain, before the strap slammed into her thighs making her scream loudly and jerk in her bonds, eliciting an overlapping scream of even greater intensity as the clamps tightened brutally beneath the pressure. A second blow followed hot on the heels of the first, moving up slightly while a third just seconds later found the already rosy cheeks of her ass. Evelyn couldn’t help herself, couldn’t keep still in the face of this sweet torment as she fought desperately against her bonds, instinctively trying to escape as Alys whipped her. At some point her struggling actually caused one of the clamps to pop off and she screamed at both the sudden bite and the return of sensation to her nipple, but the pain was lost, barely a side note really, in the symphony of sensations screaming through her flesh. Alys liked to leave marks, nothing permanent of course, nothing damaging, but welts and bruises and red skin that left no doubt that you’d been punished, claimed.
It was absolutely glorious and even as part of Evelyn begged for it to end, the rest of her screamed for more. Even so, it was over soon enough, the whipping stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun, and Evelyn collapsed into her bonds, drooling uncontrollably with tears now freely running down her cheeks. But even so, she smiled around her gag at the sting still echoing through her flesh, the fading sensation nearly orgasmic in its own right. After a moment Alys again began to run her hands along the blonde’s waist, eliciting a shudder as she caressed the welts and bruises on the bound woman’s thighs and rump.
When said hands finally reached between her thighs, to the trail of fluids that was practically pouring from her, a smirk decorated the dominatrix’s pale face, “You naughty little slut, getting off on that.”
Evelyn blushed fiercely, but said nothing, only to screech loudly into her gag as Alys brought a cane down, hard, against her already bruised flesh. Jerking uncontrollable in her bonds, and ripping the second clamp free, for a brief, wide-eyed moment nothing seemed to happen before the pain hit then she screeched like a banshee. Even through the gag her screams reached an almost impossible octave before she collapsed again, sobbing as she dangled from the ceiling by her wrists. Once more her mistress’s gentle yet cruel hand slipped between her thighs and softly probed her glistening sex, parting her lips and caressing her hard and eager clit.
“Well, that definitely got a response.” the pale woman murmured, almost to herself more than anything.
Padding softly around the sub’s still dangling body, Alys calmly walked to one of the dressers set up against the wall and began to rummage through the drawer for another toy. After a moment’s search a grin split her lips as she held up a strap-on almost triumphantly before twisting sinuously at the waist to grace Evelyn with a truly wicked smile. Swallowing hard, the blonde could do nothing but watch as her mistress slowly, sensuously buckled the strap-on around her hips, moaning softly as the plugs slid into her body before hissing slightly as she tightened the straps, the leather bands leaving deep indentations in her flesh. Standing there in the faint light, eyes smoldering with lust and with that wicked grin still firmly etched onto her lips, Alys began to stroke the massive dildo as if masturbating. It was an odd affectation that she had, Evelyn had noticed, but there was something so wonderfully erotic about it that the show never failed to make her even hornier. After a moment or two, Alys walked forwards slowly before bending over sharply to look the blonde straight in the eye before taking Evelyn’s face between her hands and pressing a soft kiss to her gag.
“Ready?”
A shaky nod was her only answer and Alys’ grin widened just a notch as she reached down to retrieve the clover clamps. Evelyn groaned in protest and tried to pull away, but Alys grabbed a breast and twisted it, just enough to pull another cry from the bound woman and forcing her to stay in place as she clamped one nipple and then the other. Fresh tears pouring down her face, Evelyn just closed her eyes and hung there limply as Alys stood once more and circled around behind her. Sliding a hand between the blonde’s thighs to gather some of her fluids and lubricate the dildo, Alys took the bound woman by the hips and slowly, incrementally, shoved the dildo up her ass. Evelyn bit down on her gag again, wincing as the toy disappeared within her, inch by inch. It was another first that she had given to this woman and not her favorite position by any means. Not exactly painful, at least not any longer, though the odd sensation of being slowly filled like that was one she had never really gotten used to. More than that, she knew from long experience that no matter how hard or how long Alys fucked her ass she would never be able cum like that. Which, she figured, was probably the point anyway.
Finally, with a small grunt of effort, the dildo was fully sheathed and Alys’ hands tightened around her waist, “We’re going to be trying something just a bit different, my pretty one.” she announced, smirk evident in her tone, “It’s time, I think, for you to show me your appreciation. Fuck me and show me just how much you care.”
Evelyn moaned a bit in confusion and tried to glance over her shoulder, protesting that there wasn’t much she could do in this position, but one of the hands leaving her waist and pulling sharply on her hair made her cry out again.
“I don’t care about your arms or those clamps.” Alys retorted, releasing the blonde’s hair to smack her on the ass, “Get those hips moving!”
Groaning softly, Evelyn shifted her body forward as far as she could while in strappado, wincing as the twine pulled on her clamps and made them tighten, before drawing back to re-impale herself on the dildo, repeating the process again and again, slowly and carefully. Too slowly it seemed as Alys slapped her already brutalized ass, making her flinch against her bonds and cry out into the gag.
“Faster, you stupid bitch!”
And so she began to move faster, groaning with each passage as the clover clamps tormented her, trying her best to strike a balance between moving at an acceptable speed and minimizing her discomfort. It didn’t really work. The steady slap of flesh against flesh continued, faster and faster as she began to get into it, moaning on each down stroke as the dildo filled her to the brim and groaning on the upstroke as the clamps were pulled tight. Guided by Alys’ hands, which urged her on, the strokes grew longer and longer, forcing more and more pressure onto her breasts while at the same time stoking the fires within her. Quickly enough Evelyn was moaning in a potent mixture of pleasure, pain and frustration. At the same time, Alys’ breath was harsh behind her, moans and soft cries escaping her throat as the vibrating plugs she was wearing worked her ever closer to orgasm, yet did nothing for her sub. At some point, almost coincidentally, Evelyn happened to look to her side in the midst of being ridden and saw that Ophelia had returned, the pink-haired girl standing in the doorway like a sentinel, silent but with a tiny smile on her face. For a brief instant before the sensations drew her back into the sea of frustrated arousal, Evelyn idly wondered what it was like for the slave. To watch her mistress, a woman she clearly loved, have sex with others. And yet there was no malice, no jealousy or pain or any of the emotions she would have expected to see in those eyes, just an odd sort of serenity. Was it simple acceptance, resignation? Or was it, perhaps, that Ophelia knew that she shared something special with her mistress, something that Alys would never share with another? There was, Evelyn could admit, a strange bond between the two women that she only barely fathomed.
Any such introspection suddenly died when Alys’ hands tightened almost painfully around her waist and pulled her back hard, the brunette’s own hips beginning to move in time with them as she began to fuck back. She was close, she was very close and Evelyn could not help but moan in frustration, crying out as the clamps pulled so harshly she was afraid they would pop off again as Alys began to to set a brutal pace, their bodies slamming together as her mistress twitched, breath ragged and moans loud in the tiny room as she rode the edge of climax. A bare handful of heartbeats passed before the young woman’s orgasm exploded and she buried the dildo to the hilt in Evelyn’s flesh, throwing back her head and crying out in ecstasy as she came. For a long moment they were simply suspended there, two bodies locked together before Alys finally came down, body and breath twitching with aftershocks as she panted harshly. Even so, as she mastered herself again, the brunette slowly released her grip, faint marks the shape of hand prints now marring Evelyn’s waist, and pulled out of the bound woman completely. Whimpering as the dildo slid free of her exhausted body, the blonde just groaned at the sudden emptiness and collapsed into her bonds, somehow both completely exhausted and incredibly horny at the same time.
After a moment of simply dangling there, Evelyn shrieked in surprise as the lock binding her wrists to the ceiling was opened and she collapsed onto the floor, crying out as she landed on her knees, thankful for the cushion that broke her fall. Before she had time to recover from that, a hand twisted into her hair hauled her upright, forcing her to look up into Alys’ face. With her free hand, her mistress reached down and unbuckled the gag and tugged it free of Evelyn's exhausted mouth, the bound woman letting out a sigh of relief and licking her lips as she worked the cramps from her jaw. Still holding her hair tightly, Alys then proceeded to slowly unbuckle the strap-on and pull it free from her own body, revealing her damp and glistening sex. For a moment Evelyn was sure that Alys would demand oral pleasure, but she did not. Instead, the hand holding her hair released and her mistress slowly knelt down in front of her. Again those soft yet cruel hands took her face between them with almost surprising gentleness as Alys pressed a tiny kiss to her nose.
Idly stroking the blonde’s face with her thumbs the woman smiled, “It’s time, my pretty one. Time for you to decide.”
Decide? For an instant Evelyn could not understand what she was talking about until her thoughts straightened themselves out and escaped the overwhelming desire to cum that still dominated her. The experiment! In the midst of everything she had forgotten that tonight was the culmination of three straight months in chastity. It was time now to decide the course that the future would take. A question that she had been asking herself up until this very moment. Staring into her mistress’ eyes, Evelyn found that her mouth refused to form words. On the one hand, she could say no, end the experiment right here and finally experience the release that her flesh so craved. It was such an incredibly tempting choice too. As good as she was with pain, Alys was equally good with pleasure and if that was her choice Evelyn knew she would spend the rest of her time here in a haze of orgasmic bliss. And yet... And yet, on the other hand, she could say yes and bring the experiment to its ultimate conclusion. To take up Ophelia’s burden, to embrace chastity fully and abandon pleasure. To become truly submissive. Worrying her lip, Evelyn closed her eyes, feeling tears run down her cheeks as she struggled with her indecision. At some point Alys removed her hands and pulled her into a hug, but she barely noticed.
At last, still unable to open her eyes, Evelyn burrowed into the other woman’s shoulder and answered in a tiny voice, quavering with a strange mix of apprehension and certainty, “Lock me up, mistress. Lock me up and never let me go.”
“It would be our pleasure.” a different voice responded.
Shocked at that, Evelyn snapped her eyes open to find that Ophelia had joined them, kneeling next to the pair as the blonde continued to tremble in her mistress’s arms. Still holding her close, Alys was smiling, an almost amused smirk twisting her dark lips. A smirk that was mirrored with Ophelia’s own crimson smile.
“You know,” she said, almost casually, “when I accepted my belt, those were almost my exact words.”
Evelyn blinked several times as a tapping on her shoulder brought her out of the rather pleasant day dream and back into the real world. Ah yes, the same old boring conference room with the same old boring people and, of course, the same old boring presentations. No wonder her thoughts had drifted. Glancing to her left at the co-worker who had shaken her “awake” she waved off the concerned expression. He nodded, glancing toward the current speaker (who was not saying anything that wasn’t in the reports that they had all read anyway), and offered a look of sympathy before settling back in to look attentive. Evelyn had to choke back a small laugh. If only they knew, if only any of them had any idea... Still grinning a bit, she leaned back, feeling the motion push her butt plug even deeper into her ass and a hot flush of erotic embarrassment filled her, skin tingling ever so slightly before she pushed it back, forcing herself yet again to accept one of the… pleasant indignities that had become part of her life.
It had only been a few weeks since her belting had become more or less indefinite, but the memories of that night still weighed on her heavily. The chastity belt imprisoning her loins ever present proof of that. It was not exactly uncomfortable, but it was unforgettable, its presence always making itself known as the smooth metal moved with and against her body, not to mention the plugs that filled her utterly and, of course, that cursed clit clip... Who would have thought that a tiny piece of wire had the power to turn her into a gibbering, sobbing wreck, desperately trying to masturbate only to find that her futile bid for relief made it worse rather than better? How did Ophelia stand it? Being locked up for years, day in day out enduring these same torturous, if wonderfully erotic, torments while being constantly teased by an over-eager mistress who demanded much pleasure in return? The amount of self control (or masochism) involved was truly daunting, and a bit frightening. Still, the die had been cast, there was no going back. Although, thinking of that night did bring a tiny smile to her face and another flush excited embarrassment to her skin.
Ophelia had taken the reins for the rest of the night, making it something of a surreal experience for Evelyn, to be dominated by a slave. Although it just went to show, she supposed, that everyone had a little dominant streak and that maybe, just maybe, mistress and slave both had a more active role in these little games than she had realized. Taking utter advantage of her shock, Ophelia had re-gagged her and led her by the collar into the bathroom before removing it. In fact, everything but the gag had been removed so that her hands could be bound with old fashioned rope. The pieces of her chastity belt had been disassembled and laid out on a towel to dry, having been washed and disinfected and now Evelyn herself received the same treatment. With skill and precision that proved to be tortuously pleasurable in its own way, Ophelia had placed her in the bathtub and sponged her down thoroughly before shaving away the stubble that had begun to manifest. That in and of itself was not unusual, but Evelyn had been monstrously horny at the time and so the sensations of the sponge and soap against her sex, as well as the razor against her skin, had been almost overwhelming. And as if that wasn’t enough, when bath time finished Ophelia decided to reward the sub with a bit of oral sex and that wonderfully wicked pierced tongue of hers. Evelyn hadn’t cared though, she’d just sat there on the edge of the tub, moaning helplessly into her gag, and spread her legs as far as they would go. For a split second she had forgotten all about chastity, about her request, about everything, and hoped that she was about to experience the mother of all orgasms, a blissful, explosive release of three months of tension and a long night of punishment when Ophelia had stopped.
She had screamed in frustration, begging, pleading as best she could, just as she always did, but Ophelia heard none of it, or rather cared not at all for it. The look in her eye said it all, ‘You choose. I have to, you have to.’ And, for the second time that night, Evelyn found herself bound helplessly, this time from a bathroom ceiling as a sex slave with hot pink hair methodically locked her into a chastity belt, her hungry flesh swallowing the plugs in some desperate hope of pleasure, but to no avail. Sobbing for a different reason, Evelyn was led out of the bathroom, lost in a sea of paradoxical sensations. Happiness and sadness, anger and relief, desperation and contentment and a thousand other things she could not identify at the time and still struggled with. All she knew was that she was forced to watch as Ophelia handcuffed herself, sunk to her knees beside her and, together, they spent the rest of what seemed like a very long night eating out their mistress. And, of course, as she usually did, Alys had taken absolutely no pains to hide her pleasure from them.
She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep that night after going home; hell, the incessant stimulation of the belt and its toys against her already hyper-stimulated sex made it difficult to walk, and she’d had to call in sick the next day. She had gotten used to it though. Well, more used to it anyway. Those first few days had been bad, really bad, bad enough that she had almost called Alys and begged to be unlocked. Alys would have done it, she knew that, but Evelyn just couldn’t make herself take that step. Later, she realized that with everything she had been through, everything she had done and everything Alys and Ophelia had helped her to discover about herself, such a surrender would have been incredibly disappointing. She had never been one to give up, after all. But still, it confused her why she was having such trouble all of a sudden. Sure, she’d been worked up, but that was nothing new. She’d been wearing this belt, with these toys, off and on for over six months before this decision had been made and it hadn’t been nearly this hard before. Ultimately it had been Ophelia that helped her put things into perspective. Ever since this little experiment in chastity had begun the two had formed an odd friendship outside of their games and she had chatted with the young woman once or twice in the “real world” since then. It had seemed so incongruous, to chat about such things in a coffee shop, a well-dressed businesswoman sitting across from what looked like the bastard child of a goth girl and a punk rocker. Ophelia hadn’t much cared though, but Evelyn supposed that when you have photos on the internet of yourself in some extremely compromising positions being embarrassed about your hair color or some body piercings was probably the last thing that you worried about.
She could still remember their talk as if it had been yesterday.
‘It’s most likely a matter of perspective.’ Ophelia had explained, sipping her coffee. ‘Before it was always like a challenge. If I last X number of days then I’ll get a reward, but there’s no light at the end of this tunnel, at least not for a long way off.’ She had looked sympathetic then. ‘If it’s too much, you can stop. Our world isn’t for everyone, even those who are interested, and this isn’t some dark fantasy about the wicked mistress who holds you against your will. She won’t say no.’
There had been no reason to elaborate over who “she” was, but still... ‘I just feel that I’ll be disappointing myself if I stop.’ Evelyn had admitted, unable to truly elaborate as to why before she’d suddenly blurted out, ‘How do you stand it?’
She had actually been rather embarrassed that she had asked such a thing, but Ophelia just smiled, the silver rings in her lower lip an odd contrast to her darker lipstick, ’I like having it stretched out. I love it when a lover takes me to the peak and holds me there for as long as possible before cresting.’ She blushed, just a bit and hugged herself then, trembling slightly as she’d relived some pleasant memory. ‘Alys is good at that, very good, and so am I.’ she looked up and the two met eye to eye, ‘But now I’ve been on the edge for four years and it shows no sign of stopping. I can’t think of a more precious gift my mistress could give me. And besides, she takes such great pleasure from being in control of my body, how could I deny her?’ She had paused then and looked her companion hard in the eye, ’But you need to decide for yourself why you’re doing this and only then can you decide to stop, or not.’
That had helped, that had helped a lot, changing her perspective, looking at things from a different angle. Even so, searching herself and her own motivations had been a bit harder. Why was she doing this to herself? Then, not so long ago, Evelyn had finally had her epiphany. The bondage and confinement was nice, very nice and she could almost get off on the pain even if it was never quite enough, but in truth it was all about control for her. In her life she had a lot of it, here, home, everywhere it seemed and that control could be crushing. The stress, the responsibility, the headaches, all of it. Losing control hadn’t destroyed her as she feared it might. No, surrendering it had completed her, relaxed and invigorated her as she gave up her power bit by bit, pushing all of those burdens onto the shoulders of someone else. Someone who agreed to carry it for her, for a little while at least. That was at the very core of it all. Smile still plastered in place as she listened to the droning speech with half an ear, Evelyn set her hands on her lap, taking the opportunity to caress the stainless steel waistband beneath her blouse. Her chastity belt. She loved it and she hated it, this ultimate symbol of her surrender, this harsh control of her body. Of course, the fact that the attached toys kept her hornier than a bitch in heat might be a larger reason.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she needed more. Perhaps she needed what Ophelia had found, that strange bond that she could never really figure out. Someone to whom she could give control, someone who was strong enough to keep it and keep her might be just what the doctor ordered. Running a finger along the edge of the chastity belt again, she smirked slightly. This could, and had, made personal relationships just a bit more challenging in the last half year. Since her exploration into bondage she’d only really had one or two serious relationships and they hadn’t survived. The BDSM thing, she supposed, wasn’t for everyone. Then again it might also aid in her search for a master, or a mistress. Maybe Ophelia could give her some advice, or maybe Alys would have room for just one more? That thought made her smile.
It should prove to be interesting, if nothing else.