The Assistant 3

The room was dark, and almost disturbing. There seemed to be the echo’s of tears shed, of cries let loose…all manner of things hung upon the walls…whips, to be sure, she understood, even the crops. But those big silver hooks? She hated to imagine what happened with those!

She lay, stretched out, feeling a bit languorous as His hands massaged her back, butt, legs. Standing in bondage, tied ever so efficiently, had taken a surprising toll on her, despite the fairly brief time He’d left her there for. She felt shivery, quivery, drained.

And so fucking turned on it was embarrassing.

The slap on her ass startled more than it stung.

“Time for you to roll over, and let me work the sore spots there. Can’t have our Ace Reporter telling tales of dark, mysterious abuse to her readership, now can we?”

“Oh, i’m not even thinking about …” her voice trailed off as His hands expertly rubbed down her shoulders, around her throat, and rubbed briskly at her breasts through the cropped white tee-shirt that fit tight enough to be uncomfortably revealing. She wondered if He could see the dark circles of her nipples in the dim light. She felt a blush blooming, as the hard nubs of them poked up in greeting when His hands slipped up and over them.

“Don’t be embarrassed that your breasts, your nipples respond. Totally natural. They were bound tightly so as the blood flow returns to normal, they become very sensitive. One of the reasons subbies like rope bondage is the heightened sensations.”

“So what do the Dom’s get out of it?” she asked, her eyes closing as His fingers did seem to magically release the tense muscles that she’d not even realized had been so strained.

“We get power, control, all that you’d expect. And it’s beautiful. Beautiful to see a woman wrapped in a web created by my hands. Beautiful to watch her suffer for me, if that is what the purpose of the play is.”

“Well, i didn’t suffer all that much,” She felt she needed to prove that she was a tough old bird, as tough as those 20-something subbies he likely usually played with.

“Of course you didn’t, little one.” The secret smile that never seemed far from his mouth sent a little frisson of nerves down her body, peaking her nipples even tighter, and causing her pussy to tingle.

Damn He was good.

He kept contact with her eyes as he rubbed into her crotch, over the wet spot on her silk trousers. Neither said a word, but when his palm cupped her there for a moment, then another, she felt the blush rising once more.

“There is nothing wrong with being aroused by this. Some are, some aren’t…our bodies are curious things. You may have a latent desire for a bit of kink…maybe you’d be surprised by it, but the ever-increasing sales in the various toy stores prove that the world is becoming more sexually aware.”

“Well, perhaps, ” she agreed, “but that doesn’t necessarily mean…this…” and she waved her hand around to encompass the room and its many tools and toys,  “would become mainstream. And if it did…wouldn’t it lose a bit of its….cachet?”

He smiled down at her. Nodded after a moment, almost to himself.

“It’s possible that some of the attraction is that of being counter-culture…trying to imagine a world where D/s ruled the day…the counter culture would be vanilla people sneaking around trying to do missionary…”

He lifted his face and boomed out a big laugh. It made her giggle.

His hand slipped away from her, almost reluctantly. She felt turbo-charged. Whether it was His hands or latent sexual energy, she wasn’t sure but suddenly she felt like bounding up from the couch and exploring.

As if He knew what she was feeling, he proffered His hand and helped her rise.

“Want a tour, little one?” She nodded, noting that he did not release her hand, but rather pulled her around in front of him, holding her arm across her body, pinning her to Him.  His free hand gathered a fistful of hair and pushing her, albeit gently, forward by it.  She almost giggled at the contrast, one hand held softly in His, while he guided her around the room by her hair.

“Kinda like walking a pet” He said, drolly, looking down at her.  She tried to look up at Him, but the pull in her hair made her wince. He walked her up to the St. Andrews Cross.

“Want to try?”

“I think i want to try it all…!” she said, rising excitement making her daring.

He murmured against her ear, his voice a soft, husky promise.

“Be careful what you wish for, little one…you might like it.”