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Her Mistress was angry. She couldn’t remember what she had done, but she was being punished for it now. She was blindfolded and placed on the edge of a stool. Her wrists locked onto either side of a three-foot dowel, hoisted above her head and stretched until her shoulders ached. Her legs were cuffed at the thigh and tied to the wall behind her so that her sex was exposed and opened.

Her skin becoming more sensitive, she could feel the gentle movements of the air, its touch caressing her.

She felt herself awaken. A quiet moan escaped her lips as the heat of her submission began to over take her. How long had she been there? She was falling deeper and deeper into the blessed darkness. Loosing her sense of self. A warm gentle breeze blew over her, stirring her hair. Her skin so sensitive the breeze felt like fire. She wanted to move. She wanted to turn to be where the breeze would blow over her, through her. The soft caress of the wind making her skin ache for Mistress’s touch. Her breath slowing down, becoming deeper, more ragged as she imagined Mistress’s fingers caressing her. Her hot breath on her neck. Her hands cupping her breasts. She bit her lip to avoid any sound from escaping. Yet she couldn’t dismiss the feelings.

Was she really imagining that? Was the soft barely discernible touch the wind or was it Mistress’s breath? The faint touch of skin on hers, the gentle stirring of the fine hair on her aching arms. The heat from Mistress’s body, so close, made her catch her breath. She released it shakily as she felt lips touch her neck ever so gently. Hands caressing her arms, massaging her aching shoulders as the bar was lowered just enough to allow them to relax a little. Her body shaking all over, the soft caresses continuing down her arms, over her chest between her breasts and over her stomach. Faintly touching her, teasing her sensitive skin.

Tormenting her, the hands never touched where she needed to be touched. They moved over her stomach and down to her aching thighs. Traveled over the top of her dark mound, stirring only her hair. Moving down her legs to her feet and then back again, carefully avoiding the areas that needed the most attention. Building her passion. Unable to move, the torment increased. The hands were soon followed by searing hot breath as they moved over her captured body. She moaned and received a light kiss for it. The hands moved to her back and lips gently descended onto her belly. She could feel the warm body between her legs and couldn’t reach it. She was shaking with desire and longing. Each touch softer than before. Each kiss warmer and wetter on her skin, burning into her flesh. Hot breath on her sex, and yet no contact. She attempted to arch her back to get closer to those lips and was unable to move.

Moaning, pulling at the bonds that held her in place. Her need to put her arms around her Mistress and show her what she wanted was overwhelming. Just when she though she would scream, the hands were gone. The lips were removed from her skin. Tears welled up in her eyes with frustration and over flowed into her blindfold as she was left alone again. Tormented by the ghostly feel of her Mistresses caress. Leaving her desolate, falling back into the darkness alone and waiting. Her breathing slowing. Her shoulders shaking as much as from her crying as from the ache of being in one position for so long.

Suddenly her nipples were on fire. She screamed as she struggled to move away from the searing heat of the hot wax dripped onto each nipple. Then they were frozen as the ice quickly followed. First one, then the other. Each drip of wax hotter than before and each touch of the ice, colder. The pattern became familiar, over and over again, until it was hypnotic.

The wax moved, going lower and lower on her body. She tried to lay back to allow her Mistress a way into her aching sex. Her desire for anything to touch her was desperately consuming. She knew it would take a single drip from the candle to throw her over the edge. Mixing pleasure and pain into an intoxicating combination. The wax dripped down her belly followed closely by the ice. Then over her thighs and down her inner thighs. Back up her belly and then back to her nipples. Hotter and hotter and hotter. Just when she thought it was too much, it stopped. She felt the cold steel of the knife as it scraped the wax from her body. It moved gently over one nipple, then the other. Where the wax was removed, the cool air heightened the sensation making her skin tingle.

The hands were back, coated in oil. They rubbed the lotion over her skin. Soothing the waxed areas. Clearing off the rest of the wax. Never once touching her exposed swollen lips and clitoris. The hands massaged her shoulders and arms as the bar was lowered again. She was allowed to lean back onto an angled form to which her hands were cuffed to the sides. She gasped as her muscles cramped from being in one position for too long. Hands massaging her. Easing the tension in her muscles. Helping the blood return and the cramps ease.

Massaging down her shoulders and to her breasts. Fingers pinching her nipples. Rolling them in well-oiled fingers. She moaned loudly. Her hips trying to leave the seat. Her arms pulling at their bonds. Nothing worked. Her nipples were flicked and rubbed, rolled and pinched. Unable to move. Unable to make it stop or move to other places. She screamed. Tears flowing freely over the sides of her face. Teeth touched her nipples, biting, pulling. A tongue flicked the tip. The other nipple was still being rolled with fingers. Lips enclosing her nipple, suckling it. Then teeth. Her nipples becoming flaming points of sensation. The rest of her body forgotten. She felt the rubber of the clamps and whimpered as they gently enclosed each nipple. Putting more and more pressure on them, creating a white heat that numbed her brain. The pain eased into a dull ache as the clamps became a permanent fixture. The cool chain between them was laid on her chest.

The hands were gone again. This time the pinpoints of light that were her nipples journeyed with her as she fell deeper into the dark. Arching her back, seeking some contact. Her body on fire. With every breath, her nipples ached. She moaned again and again, knowing that when the clamps were removed the pain would return different and more fierce.

Lost in the darkness, swallowed by her submission, able to focus only on the needs of her body, spiraling deeper and deeper into herself. Desire, lust, pain, need, all becoming one overpowering craving. A quiet whisper called to her, pulling her from the depths of her soul. Swimming upwards through the hunger, closer to the voice. Her breath coming in gasps as she tried to hear what was being asked of her.

“Who do you belong to?” the voice was asking over and over again. “Tell me.”

Unable to find her voice, unable to move, unable to respond. Desperately trying to find a way to say, “Yours Mistress. I belong to you.” No sound escaping her lips that were moving wildly. “Please Mistress, please hear me. I belong to you.” And yet nothing. Lost completely.

“Who owns you?”

“You do Mistress!!” Yet the screams in her mind never escaping her lips. Only inarticulate sounds pushed up from the darkness and through her lips held tightly in her own teeth.

“Maybe you just need a little motivation my love” The whispers against her ear were gone. Don’t leave me, she thought in desperation. Please, please don’t leave me!

She screamed as her sex was filled by something cool and thick. Pushing, thrusting, invading her. Setting her inner most self on fire. She screamed again and again as the pleasure over took her. Shaking her head back and forth, hands opening and closing convulsively, begging with the parts of her body that she could move. Her moans and screams incoherent. She couldn’t make it move faster, harder, just as she needed. The movements slowed. Driving her into furious movement that was limited to her unbound head and fingers. Straining against everything that held her. Screaming, trying to form the words.

“I belong to You Mistress! You own me!”

The thrusts of the invader slowing to a gentle caress, leaving her on the edge of release. Fighting with every muscle in her body, her throat contracting, as she struggled with speech. Screaming as she found her voice and was heard.

“Good girl” said the voice and the invader was thrust sharply in once more and then removed.

“Please Mistress, no. Please don’t leave me. Mistress, please” she begged. Sobbing, unfinished, consumed by her passion. Her entire body radiating her need to be touched.

“Who does your passion belong to?” the voice whispered in her ear.

“You, My Lady.”

“Who gave you permission to cum today?”

She remembered why she was here now. It all came flying back to her. She thought her Mistress would never know. Never know that she had eased her distress from the night before when she wasn’t allowed to find release. Mistress would never know she had convinced herself. Mistress had been sleeping or so she thought. Upon release, her Mistress brought her to the basement. Left her in total darkness, alone. Forced to wait on Her desires.

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