A Silent Session

Terry could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she turned into the parking lot. She was so scared that she had to force herself to take deeper breaths. Pulling into his assigned spot the front tires hit the curb hard enough to jerk her forward. She cursed as she shut off the engine. She checked her clock. It was 12:50. Ten minutes to go. After lighting a cigarette she inhaled the smoke deeply while closing her eyes. The nicotine had a calming effect. She reached for the printout of the Instructions and read them one last time. There was no room for error. Not today.

At 12:57 Terry was standing next to the security system at the entrance to the apartment building. A tenant held the door open for her inviting her to enter but Terry shook her head, refusing the offer. She looked at her cell phone. 12:59, one long minute to go. As the digits finally transformed to 1:00 she dialed in his apartment number, 415. After waiting through the eternity of four rings he picked up the receiver. She heard his voice for the first time; “Hello”. She stuttered slightly as she gave the required reply: “Sir, this is Terry”. A buzzer indicated that the door had been unlocked. As it closed loudly behind her Terry felt as if she had reached the point of no return.

Her mind raced as the antiquated elevator slowly brought her up to the fourth floor. Her fear was rapidly being replaced with a thrilling expectancy. The adrenaline was rushing through her system giving her a numbing buzz which allowed her to go into an auto pilot mode. There was no more thinking to do. She was now reacting, following orders. The Instructions would be followed to the letter. Her surrender was already complete. As she left the elevator she walked briskly down the hall to
415. Behind the door was the man that she was meeting for the first time. She took one last deep breath before knocking twice.

After a minute, the door opened. Terry walked through, keeping her eyes down. He closed and locked the door behind her. It was a signal. Terry knew she had to respond “immediately” but for a fraction of a second she froze. She looked up into his eyes, not to look at him but to show herself to him. She wanted him to see the fear and the desire in her eyes. The gesture was effective, as he understood her need.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. Reaching up, she unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants, and slowly pulled his zipper down. With one motion she slid both his pants and underwear down past his knees where gravity took over, dropping them down to his ankles. Looking up she stared at his powerful erection. Tentatively, she raised her hands and caressed it softly with her fingertips. She explored his manhood learning its texture and curvature. After feeling every bit of it she raised up to begin worshipping his cock with her mouth. She had received written orders on exactly how it was to be done. She licked slowly around the head emphasizing the rim, pausing and relicking the areas where his cock twitched. Moving down, her tongue savored the hardness of his shaft in long up and down motions. Terry was pleased to hear his low moans as she soaked his penis with her thick saliva. Finally she took his cock into her mouth bobbing her head up and down as her lips provided a deep suction along the length of his cock. She looked up to see the effect her subservience was having. His hands were on his hips. His eyes were closed. There was a look of controlled pleasure on his face.

As the mouthfucking continued, he suddenly moved forward pushing her head and body against the door. Grabbing her by the hair he forced his hard on into her mouth with deep thrusting motions. Terry tried to keep up but it was impossible to catch full breaths with his cock being rammed into her throat. She began to gag. The submissive began to feel an asphyxial like high as the passionate assault continued. She loved the roughness, and the total feelings of powerlessness and helplessness which consumed her. She was willing to submit to anything he desired.

Without notice, he pulled himself off of her and stood back. Another signal. Terry immediately got down on her hands and knees to crawl through the hall into the living room where she stood up. She removed her dress, tossing it aside on the floor. She stood facing the couch dressed only in black panties and a black bra. She waited.

After lighting candles and putting on some classical music, he approached her from behind. He wrapped a black leather collar around her neck fastening it snugly in the back. As soon as he finished, Terry slid her panties down to the floor. She knelt, leaning over the couch with her ass as high up in the air as she could possibly get it. She was ready for the next scene.

She had told her new Dom in the several emails they had exchanged prior to the session of her desire for assplay. His assurances to her that he would fulfill her needs greatly increased her expectations of pain and pleasure as she waited on her knees.

Dusting her ass with small bursts of baby powder, he slowly moved it around her cheeks with the lightest touch of his fingertips. The feeling was soothing and relaxing. So was the rimming which he performed next. Terry cooed as she felt his tongue sliding over her most sensitive area. This was followed by a hot oil deep tissue massage of her buttocks. His large strong hands manipulated and squeezed the muscles and tissue greatly increasing the flow of blood to the area. He ended the massage by sticking a finger drenched with hot oil into her ass, followed by two, three, and four fingers. Terry felt her insides being stretched as he moved his fingers in vigorous motions inside her. He then commenced to spank her, first with his hands then with a succession of wooden and leather paddles, ending with a vicious caning with a black rod. Terry was brought to tears by this onslaught which left her ass crisscrossed with deep red welts. Yet, the hapless girl would have gladly been willing to beg for more had she not been forbidden to speak. But begging wasn’t necessary.

He put the rose under her nose, inviting her to inhale its sweet fragrance. As she did, he pulled it away scraping it across her back where the thorns left tracks of red scratches. He positioned the stem of the rose vertically on her left buttock perpendicular to the caning welts. Using a wooden paddle he smashed the thorns into the tender inflamed skin. Terry screamed, desperately holding back the obscenities she wanted to let loose with. Pulling the stem from the bottom he dragged the embedded thorns across her cheek opening several long shallow cuts. The blood oozed out trickling down her ass and leg. Terry grimaced as he placed the rose on her right buttock. The procedure was repeated. The kneeling masochist basked in the glow of pain and the warmth of her own blood.

After a short break he went back over to the couch and unhooked her bra. This was the signal for the last scene of the session to begin. Terry pulled the bra off and crawled to the bedroom on her hands and knees. Per the Instructions she hopped up on the bed laying face up with her head on the pillow. She waited.

Immediately upon entering the room he tied her hands and legs tightly and securely to the bedposts with strong black cotton rope. There was no possibility of resistance. She was completely at his mercy. And that was one quality he had very little of.

From atop a nearby dresser he brought over a small Indian teak box. Lifting the cover he pulled out two small push pins, the type used on bulletin boards. He held one up to display to her. The small handle was made of pure gold. The point was made of silver, short and sharp. He reached down, pressed the point against the side of her left nipple and shoved it in. The pain was excruciating causing Terry to cry out loudly. Without hesitation he stuck the other pin deeply into her right nipple. Sitting back he watched her writhing in pain desper
ately pulling on the ropes which yielded not an inch. Her ni
pples swelled up far greater than their normal size. They felt as though they were on fire. Terry watched as he bent over to lick off the few drops of blood which had escaped from the small wounds. He looked up at her with a knowing smile.

For the finale, he decided to satisfy a fantasy she had revealed to him in a letter. From a drawer in the dresser he pulled out a Buck knife. The blade was extremely sharp. She gasped as he flashed it before her eyes, displaying its potential to her. A strong fear enveloped her. She quivered as she considered the fact that a perfect stranger was holding a knife to her. Yet, she thrived on this fear. She gave herself over to it completely.

He slid the blade slowly across her throat in numerous horizontal lines each one slightly lower than the preceding one. He then moved the knife all over her body, slowly exploring her with the razorlike edge. Time slowed as Terry watched every movement with great fascination.

He rested the blade just slightly above her freshly shaved pussy. He looked up at her. She returned it, looking directly into his eyes. He smiled at her. He then pressed the blade hard against the skin cutting a one inch gash. The blood flowed out running down over her clit and into her pussy. Terry felt the blinding heat from the cut followed by the comforting warmth of the flowing blood. Her body shook uncontrollably. As he mounted her she launched into a continuous series of multiple orgasms, the ferocity of which finally drove her into unconsciousness.

The next morning she awoke to find that all the ropes had been removed. She was lying in his arms. As his eyes opened she looked up at him and smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”