Just One More Time
From The Slavegirl Chronicles
Cynthia's twenty-fifth surprise birthday party turned out to be far better than Dora, her best friend who planned the event, ever expected for a Sunday night celebration. When the male stripper finally arrived at ten o'clock he put on a show that caused every clit in the room to eagerly stand up at attention and tremble with delight. The special dance he performed for Cynthia caused all jaws to drop. By the time the stripper finished everyone was in a state of rapture.
The stripper reached for his leather thong which dangled from Cynthia's finger. When he moved to take his tiny piece of leather, Cynthia refused by pulling her hand back away from him. She smiled provocatively.
"Just one more time?" Cynthia asked.
He winked before starting anew. There was a special chemistry developing between the two. Once again the sexy masculine specimen presented his show, only this time he focused solely on Cynthia. He twisted and swayed so close to Cynthia that her body could literally feel the trembles of his penis. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded in her head. She was mesmerized, literally riveted in place by his animal intensity.
When the stripper finished he dressed in his street clothes, but before leaving he returned to Cynthia. He handed her a card with the address of The Fantasy Lounge, just two blocks from the party apartment.
"Meet me there in an hour," the stripper whispered.
After the stripper, the party was essentially over except for a final toast complete with personal birthday wishes from each girl attending. Cynthia watched the hands on the clock above the sofa creep forward. At eleven thirty she hugged Dora goodbye and walked down the quiet street to The Fantasy Lounge.
The lounge was surprisingly full for such a late hour. Cynthia tentatively looked around, not really expecting to see the stripper. He waved from a corner table for two. As she approached, he stood up and pulled the second chair out for her.
The stripper motioned for the waiter, announcing, "Champagne for the birthday girl."
Cynthia swallowed hard to keep her voice from cracking. "You were spectacular tonight. Thank you."
When the champagne arrived the stripper raised his glass. "To the birthday girl. Make a birthday wish."
Without hesitation Cynthia said, "A night of torrid sex with you."
Because he did not respond, Cynthia worried that either he hadn't heard or worse yet, she may have offended him with her boldness. With their glasses half empty the stripper took Cynthia's hand and led her out of the lounge, across the street, up a flight of stairs and into his apartment.
A round bed in the shape of a heart was the only furniture Cynthia could see. The stripper quickly shed his clothes then proceeded to seductively, piece by piece, strip Cynthia of both her dress and her inhibitions. Quickly the stripper sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Cynthia over his knees.
"One for each year of your birth," he whispered before he laid his massive hand into her butt.
In her head Cynthia silently counted. When he stopped at twenty-five she was already in a sex charged euphoria and begging for more. He obliged. As he continued, her butt was hot, her nipples erect, and her clit was throbbing in anticipation. As she was squirming erotically, he rolled her onto her back and fucked her. Her orgasm, the first truly mind-blowing experience of her young life, was amazing. Yes, she was well past being a virgin, but this episode was a magnificent culmination of anticipation, rapture, and satisfaction all in one perfectly constructed package. She lay on the bed, spent, while the stripper made coffee. Cynthia wasn't really in the mood for caffeine but certainly wasn't going to offend her most gracious and inspired host.
As they sipped from large mugs Cynthia said, "This was the best birthday present a girl could ask for."
"This may sound cliché, but I don't invite clients out."
"I don't even know your name."
"Well Ben, I have to go to work in a few hours so I best be going so I can shower and change clothes."
Ben walked Cynthia to the door. "What's you phone number?"
Cynthia wrote her number on the pad he provided. Ben gave Cynthia a warm kiss that hovered between romantic and passionate before releasing her. As she walked away, Ben couldn't help to once again admire her delightful femininity. Cynthia's hips swayed with rhythmic precision to the clicking of her tall high heels, enhancing her perfect legs, beautifully defined ass, and tiny waist. The front view had been even more impressive. A tall elegant swan-like neck bridged the gap between her head and shoulders. A beautiful smile topped by Cynthia's hair combed back and braided into a long ponytail. The crowning glory was the pair of young prominent breasts, which were constantly begging for attention.
The sun was just coming up as Cynthia scurried to her car she had left at the birthday party. If she hurried she could arrive at the office presentable and on time. As the high from the night dissipated Cynthia could feel her reverberating butt every time she sat down. The soreness didn't bother her. What might have offended others, was a pleasant reminder of the rapture she experienced the previous evening. All she wanted was to see Ben again.
He didn't call on Monday.
He didn't call on Tuesday.
He didn't call on Wednesday.
He didn't call on Thursday.
On Friday morning while Cynthia was preparing for work the phone rang. She figured the caller was probably Dora wanting to set up something for the weekend. Cynthia answered on the fourth ring.
"You need to learn to be more prompt."
Cynthia's hands trembled. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, under any circumstance.
"Next time," she said.
"If that's what you want." And Ben hung up.
Cynthia was stunned. What happened? It happened so fast. She started to replay the terse sequence in her mind; apparently 'Next time' wasn't a good answer.
The rest of Friday was an empty hole for Cynthia... When would Ben call again?
After a silent afternoon and evening, her question changed to: Would Ben call again?
He didn't call on Saturday.
He did call at 1:00 AM Sunday morning. Wakening from a sound sleep Cynthia answered the phone as soon as she heard the ringing.
"Still can't answer the phone before the fourth ring?"
"I'm sorry, Ben, I didn't expect the phone to ring this hour in the morning."
"Well, we'll have to work on your phone answering skills. I called now because I wanted to see you now. Get over here, Now!"
"Now? It's one in the morning."
"Cynthia, what did I say?
"To get over to your place now."
"Good, we've got that much established. Now the question is: What is Cynthia going to do?"
"I'll come over to your place now."
"Ah, we have a plus mark for Cynthia. Be sure you dress to please me. I'm sure you understand what that means. I expect you to be here in twenty minutes."
"Ben! I'm at least fifteen minutes away. It will be impossible for me to dress and be there in twenty minutes."
"Then you better accomplish the impossible," and he hung up.
Cynthia's first impulse was to throw the phone against the wall. She didn't have Ben's phone number; arriving in twenty minutes was... For some inexplicable reason, Cynthia leaped to her feet, scrambled to throw on a short crop top, her sexy tight fitting hot pants and her strap on stiletto high heels before running out to her car. Driving as fast as she could without having an accident, while she tried to tidy up her hair with one hand, she arrived at Ben's apartment. Parked. Raced up the stairs and knocked on the door.
She knocked again.
"Yes, who's there?"
"It's me, Cynthia."
Ben opened the door, "I wasn't expecting you now."
"Ben, you just called me and told me to be here."
"I didn't expect you now, Cynthia... I expected you two minutes ago."
A shocked look of dismay was frozen on her face, but only for a moment. Her eyes brightened as she announced, "Then you should spank me for being late."
Ben looked her over from head to toe, "Take those shorts off."
"Ben, let me inside first."
"Take your shorts off nice and slow to entice me to let you inside; if I'm properly inspired with what I see, I'll consider letting you in. But first give me your purse so your hands can be free for your present task, which is expected to be erotic shorts removal."
After handing Ben her handbag Cynthia nervously looked up and down the corridor before beginning a slow sensuous performance of becoming naked below the waist. As soon as she stepped out of the shorts, "Now let me in."
"Give me your shorts first."
With a surprised look Cynthia handed her shorts to Ben. "Now let me in?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Lift up your top first."
"Ben, let me in. If you don't let me in now, I'll leave."
"That would be interesting. Would you really do that?"
"Well... I can't. You have my shorts and my car keys."
Ben started a smile that slowly transformed into a smirk. "You could always walk home."
"Ben, I'm half naked!"
"Therein lies the problem. Take off your top to properly display your breasts and you will be completely naked. Then I'll be able to let you in."
Looking up and down the corridor again, Cynthia slipped off her top to display her naked breasts to Ben. He said, "Yes, pretty as always. Now hand me your top... and kneel down."
"Ben! Not now, not here, people will see me."
"Then Cynthia should be careful about how loud she is. Any more noise and people are sure to come out to see what is happening.... The instructions were for Cynthia to kneel down."
Cynthia stood silent for a moment before she finally dropped to her knees. She said, "May I please come inside now?"
Ben responded with, "Just one more thing for you to do first. Spread your knees, head up... higher than that. Be quiet. Remember, you wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors." And Ben deliberately closed the door loudly.
The sound of the door slamming took her breath away. Cynthia was sure her heart stopped. Stunned, shocked, frozen in place and kneeling at Ben's door naked, her mind franticly searched for options. There was but one: wait.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened mercifully and Ben said, "What a delightful sight, why don't you come in and join me?"
Ben motioned Cynthia into his apartment. Cynthia jumped up. Once inside, the spanking was abrupt as Ben grabbed her and threw her over his knees before starting to pummel her buttocks with his open hand. He was strong and relentless, but the suddenness slowly transformed from apprehension into willing acceptance. In short order her butt was glowing and happy with the anticipation of what she hoped was to transpire in the very near future. Her body began a writhing that further aroused Ben as her movements blended with his dominant nature to drive him along a parallel path with Cynthia towards his rapidly approaching satisfaction of intense sexual bliss.
Wow, fireworks at 1:30 on a Sunday morning, who would have thought? And it wasn't even the Forth of July... well at least not for anybody else.
After a sojourn in the afterglow of their rapture, Ben picked up his cell phone from the end table beside the bed. He pressed a speed dial number and the table phone on the other side of the room rang. Cynthia thought it a bit strange that Ben would call his own home phone. She looked at him inquisitively. Ben looked at her more and more intensely.
"Well, aren't you going to answer the phone?"
"I didn't know it was for me, Ben."
"Well, now you know," and he gave her a shove.
Cynthia ran and picked up the phone. Ben asked, "How many rings was that?"
"I don't know. I wasn't counting."
"Six rings before you picked up the phone." Ben walked over to her, "The phone call I made to you at your apartment rang four times before you answered. You implied that you would answer more promptly 'next time'. You haven't improved. Your phone rang five times this morning, six times here. You're not improving. You're backsliding. Listen to what I say to you and follow directions, that's what you need to do. Do you have anything to say?"
"I'll try to do better, Ben."
"'I'll try to do better', what a whiney way to avoid attention to details. What would you suggest besides 'trying'... what else could we do to encourage some positive change?"
"You could spank me?"
Slowly shaking his head, Ben said, "Cynthia, my darling Cynthia. Do you really think spanking you is an incentive for you to improve? Your butt is beginning to see a spanking as one of it's most cherished pleasures. Let's simplify the situation. What do parents do to children who misbehave?"
Cynthia couldn't help but have an impish little smirk on her face as she answered, "They spank them."
"Ah, I can see we're going in an endless circle here. Let's clarify what parent's consider spanking the child to be. Other than spanking, what do you think it should be called?"
There was no other answer... after a rather pregnant pause Cynthia had to acknowledge there was but one interpretation: "Punishment".
"Good girl, now we're on the same track. Of course, this begs the question, 'What do you think your punishment should be?' We know spanking is not a punishment for you, so I ask you, what do you think an appropriate punishment would be for my sinful little Cynthia?"
What a predicament to be in! She was being asked to choose something that she abhorred in order to please the man she is fascinated by. Punishment, by definition, needs to be something you would do most anything to avoid. Ben was asking her to reveal that which she found appalling to her mind and body. Her mind wouldn't let her look that deep into her true feelings and thoughts. She had been superficial in her deeper thoughts all her life. She couldn't get her mind to respond with anything that would be other than a joke. Perplexed, bewildered, her mouth opened and out came, "I don't know."
"I don't know, what!" Ben responded.
Questioningly, Cynthia replied, "I don't know, ...Sir?"
Ben looked down for a moment before saying, "That does have some merit."
Cynthia gave a long sigh of relief, thinking her journey was over.
But Ben asked, "What else?"
"I don't know, ...Master?"
"Another title choice of merit, but my sinful little Cynthia has yet to earn the honor of addressing me as 'Master', or even 'Sir'. So, let's move to a designation above Ben, but not so honorific as 'Master' or 'Sir'. What do you think is a good choice?"
Tears were forming, but Cynthia was reluctant to cry, "I don't know..."
"Cynthia, Cynthia, Cynthia. What am I to do with you? And you had best see that as a rhetorical question, because I certainly don't want to hear, 'I don't know' ever again. And I am deadly serious about this: Never tell me 'I don't know' again. Never! Ever! Under any circumstances! Understand?"
"Use a complete formal sentence."
"Yes, Cynthia will never tell Ben, 'I don't know' again."
"Well and properly done. But to digress for a second, what I said a few moments ago, 'sinful little Cynthia', keeps ringing in my ears. My name for you has just changed... whenever you have misbehaved and are in need of correction or training, I will address you as Cynful, rather than my sinful Cynthia. Under those circumstances, you will henceforth be known exclusively as the contraction of sinful and Cynthia. Your name will be Cynful. Yes, both accurate and befitting my naughty little minx.
"Now, returning to an upgrade for Ben. Anything other than Sir or Master come to mind yet?"
Cynful started to say, "I.... " and almost choked on the word.
"Come on Cynful, you're an intelligent girl, surely you can answer my question with words other than, 'I don't know'... I'll give you some time to think about it." Ben stood up and moved beside Cynful. He took her by the shoulders and walked her over to stand in the corner. "Think!" he demanded.
Over an hour passed before Cynful was rescued from her new friend, 'the corner'. Her body was so tense she could hardly walk.
"I will pose the question one more time. Cynful had best have something to offer as a positive response. Once more, 'What would be an appropriate improvement over 'Ben'?"
Cynful lifted her head, took a deep breath and with confidence looked him in the eye and said, "Whatever would please you, Sir."
"By George, I think she's got it. Not exactly what I would have said, but certainly an excellent and original choice from Cynful... we'll stay with this as a tribute to your originality. As previously discussed, it will be no surprise that we will take out 'Sir'. And the natural formalization of Ben is Benjamin. So the final resolution, as I see it, is: 'Whatever would please Benjamin'. Does Cynful concur?"
"In a full sentence!"
"Yes Sir, Cynful concurs."
"Good, and henceforth all of Cynful's answers will be in complete sentences, understood?"
"Yes Sir, Cynful understands."
"Good, more progress being made here. And now we finally return to the original question at hand, 'What do you think your punishment should be?' And let me caution you that your answer better be acceptable or you will find the wrath of Satan himself raining down upon you... So?"
"Whatever pleases Benjamin."
After a few moments... "and what are you about to be punished for?"
"Cynful is to be punished for failure to answer the phone promptly."
"Excellent! Now get me the broom from the kitchen closet."
Her mind filled of question marks. 'Is Ben going.... scratch that, Is Benjamin going to spank me with a broom?'
She returned and respectfully handed the broom to Benjamin before walking over to a straight backed chair by the table. She bent over the back of the chair to show her willingness to have her butt chastised with the broom.
Ben responded with, "Somewhat presumptuous here, aren't we?"
Cynful straitened up and turned to him, questioningly.
To which Ben said, "First we have to unscrew the handle."
Her face turned white, 'Oh My God, is he going to beat me with the wooden broom handle? I'll never survive.'
Ben unscrewed the broom handle as Cynful dutifully returned to bend over the back of the chair.
Ben smiled. What an incredibly sexy Cynful he had acquired. Willing to voluntarily submit to having her ass beaten to a pulp. In less than a week and a half, she had gone from a perky playmate to his surprisingly submissive toy... After unscrewing the broom handle he returned to Cynful at the chair, taped her on the shoulder. She stood up.
"Open." As soon as Cynful opened her mouth, Ben placed the broom handle crosswise between her lips. He backed away to view his handiwork. He stepped back further with a smile as he nodded approvingly. His eyes roved over her body with joy combined with pleasure: the joy of what her body offered and anticipation of the pleasure her body would soon be providing. The perfect package for his predilection towards a strictly controlled submissive in a tight D/s relationship that would gradually escalate into strict and possibly even total control. Yes, this one was a keeper. He silently advised himself to progress with caution... didn't want to start so abruptly as to frighten his newly acquired prize away.
With the broom handle in her mouth she could do nothing but enjoy Ben's apparent approval of her situation and hopefully of her as well. Ben walked behind her. Cynthia waited... As Ben caressed her butt, she worried about what was to become of her sweet erotically oriented derrière. How long before the caresses end and the pain begins? ...well, as long as she held the broom handle in her mouth, her ass was safe.
Ben walked in front and took the broom handle from Cynthia's mouth. He smiled knowingly and let her wait some more.
Her own thoughts were akin to a tornado spinning in her head. Pain was not her forte, yet the after effects of pure unrestricted sex was a strong aphrodisiac to make/entice/even demand her obedience to Benjamin.
Standing over her with the broom handle in his hand Ben surprised her with, "Kneel down on the floor, sit back on your heels, and clasp your hands behind your back." He seemed more intimidating than ever before as he walked around Cynthia, silently surveying his prey. With her kneeling... is he going to hit her back? Waiting...
Ben bent over and placed the broom handle on the floor a few inches in front of her before saying, "Put your knees on the broom handle."
Cynthia started rocking from side to side so she could 'walk' on her knees to the impending...? well, she wasn't sure what this would be. So, with some trepidation she maneuvered her knees up to and onto the broom handle. When she had her knees in place with her weight back on her heels, she was relieved to find her plight not that unpleasant.
Her initial thought was, 'Thank God, this isn't going to be the terror she had imagined.'
Ben waited... Cynful began to understand that punishment doesn't necessarily mean being hit with something. With her weight on her knees, pain was significant, but tolerable... at first. The more she thought about the pain the more it grew... and grew. Now her thoughts were focusing on, 'Will this ever end?' What else could she think about?
Ben, appreciating her dilemma, interjected, "Hands behind your back, stand up straight on your knees."
With tears in her eyes, her muscles started to tremble from the pain and the fear that this could go on forever. Her breathing began to suffer also. With her eyes, she silently pleaded with him for mercy. There was none. This was reality. This was punishment.
Ben understood her torment, and stood silent in his own way... relishing her ongoing distress. Waiting patiently as her torment slowly but surely escalated, Cynthia looked for hope and was so happy when Ben, scratch that, Benjamin opened his mouth. But what he said stunned her, "Just five minutes more." He adjusted a small wind up timer on the table to ring when the five minutes expired.
Those four little words translated into hopelessness. 'Just five minutes more'. She pleaded to herself, don't think about the time, don't think about the pain, think about something else in another place at another time. Think about... Oh God, the pain is getting worse and worse. She would do anything to get off the broom handle, but she couldn't... she couldn't because Benjamin won't let her. His word alone held her in place as surely as she were a marble statue. Benjamin, her sweet, loving, intensely driven Benjamin wouldn't let her move. His word became her command. 'Just five minutes more'... and the alarm rang.
The sharp voice of reality boomed in her head as Benjamin, her Benjamin, said once again, "You're slouching, straighten your back. You're not done yet. Put your hands behind your head, elbows spread wide. We'll reset the time, just five minutes more!"
Cynthia almost collapsed... almost. But she had the hope of her ordeal ending in five, four, three... well at least there's hope. Benjamin's voice awakened her to the task at hand, "Eyes straight ahead! Head up!"
Amazingly the alarm sounded. Cynthia hoped this was the end... Benjamin stood and looked down at her, but said nothing.
Benjamin picked up the alarm, turned back to look deeply into Cynful's eyes, and asked, "How much more?"
Cynful looked up. The pain was excruciating. She raised her head even higher, as she said, "Whatever pleases Benjamin."
"Five minutes will please Benjamin, but let's put you in a better position this time... Arch your back as far as you can... bend forward at the hips, ass out behind you, breasts displayed in front, arch your back more, head back until you're looking straight up at the ceiling... a little more. Yes, that's what you should look like, this is what pleases Benjamin." Benjamin reset the alarm and placed it back on the nearby table, but facing away from her in case she managed to peek.
Cynthia groaned inside as her confidence in her body to prevail during this torment waned by the second. Her thoughts told her she could not continue being bent up like a pretzel. But she did continue. What a dichotomy, telling herself she cannot, as she continues to prevail. The pain her knees were experiencing was becoming intense and severe. A red-hot knife could do no more. The pain in her neck from holding her head back so far was nearly as intense. For some reason, Cynful had been destined to suffer, and she suffered well. Praying for mercy, for the pain to end, for relief from her agony. Yet she maintained her painful position without a word of complaint. A whimper now and then, but no actual complaint. Benjamin put her here and it was her own will, through Benjamin's directive, that held her frozen in time.
Benjamin was more than pleased with the trim torso in front of him and the exquisite torment she endured for him. Her flexibility was astonishing. In contrast with Cynthia's hope for relief, Ben was already conjuring up new ways to entertain himself with her body in the future. If Cynful could hold this position while unimpeded, what will the future positions achieve as rope and chain is added to the equation?
Cynful prayed for relief when finally the alarm went off. His fateful words echoed in her brain as Benjamin asked her once again, "How much more?"
What else could she say but, "Whatever pleases Benjamin."
This time he stood over her with his arms crossed, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Benjamin, Cynful is sure."
He swooped down, picked her up, and carried her to the sanctuary of the heart shaped bed she adored. Her ordeals forgotten, well at least forgiven. Her heart sang a happy song of enjoyment.
Cynful could never have imagined the deep and twisted D/s relationship that Benjamin led her into. She had heard superficial little tidbits here or there. Never any details, no explanation of the reasoning or erotic happenings between two D/s partners. Benjamin ranged across the full gamut between the sweet charming gentleman at one end of the spectrum, to the extremely intense, sometimes merciless dominant at the other end.
What Cynthia previously thought of as a bizarre eccentricity, was now transforming into a way of life for her. Is this the role she was meant to fulfill? The cyclical alternation of pain and pleasure was becoming synonymous with her being Cynful. A paradox that she recognized; this was fact. Pain and pleasure was Cynful; Cynful was pain and pleasure. She recognized the fact, but she didn't have an explanation. Her introspections would have to remain on the back burner while she continued to live the fact of her new existence.
Just before noon Ben woke up to the pleasant aroma of fresh brewed coffee. He rolled onto his side to see Cynful keeling beside the bed as she offered a cup of coffee out to him with the sweet words, "For Benjamin."
Ben took a sip and abruptly handed the cup back to her, "No sugar! Don't ever put sugar in my coffee. Take that cup back out to the kitchen and come back with the broom handle." Cynthia got up and ran to the kitchen as fast as she could without spilling the coffee. Moments later she returned with the ominous broom handle.
Benjamin said, "Go over to the wall, kneel on the broom handle facing the wall with your knees touching the wall. Spread your knees as wide as you can, clasp your hands behind your head and lean into the wall. I want your knees, pussy, breasts, nose, and forehead all to be touching the wall."
Before going to the wall and getting into position, Cynful hesitated for a moment to grasp an understanding of what Ben had said. With her knees wide spread, she eased herself down onto the broom handle and pressed her body against the wall, soon to discover the dilemma she was in. With her knees touching the wall she couldn't quite stand up straight on her knees... she had to continually press forward with her legs and torso to accomplish this position.
Benjamin walked over to inspect her results. Yes, touching the wall in all seven places. The concentration needed was daunting, nonetheless Cynthia persevered. Ben said, "Just one more thing, point your toes."
The intensity was amplified ten fold. This put more of a strain on her legs to keep her body pressed against the wall. After only a few moments the effect of the tension became known, and before long Cynful's body was starting to tremble.
Ben could not ignore the beautiful curves that his Cynful displayed for his enjoyment. With her toes pointed there was more stress on her lower body to keep her pussy pressed against the wall. This accentuated her derrière to perfection. What a beautiful ass! Ben's depraved mind was in seventh heaven. Surely there was not another sexually tormented body in the entire universe to compare. As Ben gently caressed her bottom, he said, "Such a pretty picture. Stay here in position while I take a shower. Don't forget to hold your position. You know I'll check back on you from time to time."
Cynthia was thunderstruck. Why must Benjamin always demand the impossible? She had no choice but to obey. She couldn't leave. Last night he locked what little clothes she had with her in his desk along with her car keys. She was captive. His captive. Not bound and gagged or helpless in the sense of ropes or chains, but his captive due to intimidation... no that's no quite right... she was his captive because of his domination. This was unconventional to say the least, perhaps baffling would be the better word. She wanted to run; an even greater desire compelled her to stay in place and willfully suffer at Benjamin's whim... which wasn't very merciful at the moment. Cynthia's trembling gave way to shuddering, which soon transformed into almost uncontrollable shaking. Tears followed, then sobbing.
After half and hour, Ben finally stepped out of the bathroom and walked up behind Cynthia. God, she looked good. Trim legs, what had to be the world's perfect example of a sensuous butt, topped by Cynthia's slender waist. What more could a sadist ask for? Finally he spoke. "Cynful, you know what I want?"
Cynthia could only whine.
"Just one more thing."
She burst into a wail of anguish.
"Get me a fresh cup of coffee."
Cynthia felt more pain when she started to move from her agonizing position than she ever would have imagined. She had to slowly back up and turn away from the wall and get on all fours before being able to slowly stand. Her mind wanted to run to get Benjamin's coffee, but her body could only start to stagger. She returned with the cup and saucer held before her. After bending at the waist, Cynthia said, "Your coffee, Benjamin."
He picked up the cup, and took a sip before saying, "Perfect, cream no sugar. How did you know I liked my coffee this way?"
"Benjamin, you had me in that horrid seven point position against the wall forever. How could I forget, 'cream, no sugar'?"
"Yes, that is the point, isn't it? I don't want you to forget how I like my coffee. I bet that sooner or later we can find a way for you to answer your phone promptly, also."
Her eyes weren't completely sure, but Cynthia could have sworn Benjamin had a slight smirk as he said that. 'The bastard', she thought, 'he's enjoying this. My stress is his entertainment. Well, the hell with that, I'll never come back again.' But there was the other part of her brain that told her the truth. Cynthia would return. And she would return without questioning why. She found herself drawn into Benjamin's interminable web of contrast. It started with her birthday spanking followed by delicious sex. Then learning how to address Ben as Benjamin. Then 'Cream, no sugar' in his coffee. Each with it's associated torment. Yet each was also followed by unfolding delicious, even gloriously angelic, pure sexual pleasure. Was she actually starting to look forward to traveling down this twisted derisive path and into this crazy pain/pleasure cycle dictated by Benjamin? She had to admit to herself, she didn't know. What she did know was termination of this relationship was not an option.
Cynthia knew she was sure to come back again, no matter what. 'No matter what?' Did her mind actually say that to her? Yes it did, but she wouldn't do that, would she? And her mind responded without hesitation, 'Yes you would.'
The rest of the day was rather pleasant. Of course the phone rang a few times and Cynthia answered the phone a little quicker each time. Benjamin took her for a walk in a nearby park. The crop top and tight hot pants on her trim body would have drawn attention by themselves, alone. But with the addition of the tall sexy stiletto heels, Cynthia's appearance seemed to catch the attention of nearly all of the park goers.
Ben liked having her on display. Once he had her stand with her back to a small tree and clasp her hands together behind the tree as if she were tied there. At a railing along the side of one of the walkways, he had her grasp the railing while facing a flowerbed. With her hands spread two feet apart, Ben had her step back until her back was horizontal and stand there with her feet together and her legs straight. Cynthia was told to hold her head up to look at the pretty flowers. Actually it looked a lot like she was about to get a spanking. Felt like it, too. Ben told her to stay in position before he walked away. Not much foot traffic there, and soon Ben returned to shepherd her off to another location he spotted not far away.
On a bridge over a small pond, he had her stand with her back against the railing with her legs wide spread and her arms reaching out as far as she could as she grasped the railing on each side. In this modified spread-eagled position Ben had Cynthia bend backwards and arch her back as far as she could. With her short crop top, Cynthia made quite an erotic picture with her bare midriff displayed in concert with the bottom of her breasts peeking out quite provocatively. He had her put her head back to look behind her as best she could.
She knew those fateful words were due to arrive, and they did... Ben said, "Stay in position," before walking off.
In her sexy outfit, Cynthia was an attraction for all to see as she was openly displayed in the middle of the arched bridge on a Sunday afternoon in the park. She could hear footsteps go by, occasionally some distant talking. Then the sound of high heels. A small female group stopped to check her out. From their voices Cynthia estimated three young women strolling in high heels while they themselves were on the prowl for male attention. They're high heels were quiet as the group paused to look at her up close.
They weren't naive as to her plight and Cynthia heard comments like, "Why is she here like this?" and "Was it her Master or her Mistress who put her here?" "Is she waiting for someone?" "Is she simply waiting for someone to take her home with them?" And after a few minutes, "Well, she is ignoring us while staying silent in this position, you have to admit she definitely is an obedient slavegirl with merit. Let's try a different approach." "Look at us." "Do you want to be rescued?" One of the women caressed her bare stomach, another the inside of her thigh. "Do you want to come home with us?" "Would you like to cum?" "We'll treat you nice." "Do you want us to leave you alone?"
Cynthia stayed frozen in position because that is what Benjamin's instructions were. Nothing more; nothing less.
The women offered a couple of other questions, but getting zero response from Cynthia, they continued to stroll on their way.
The word 'obedient' echoed in Cynthia's head... yes, she was being obedient. And not fighting her obedience in any way. 'Obedient', she wondered where this path was taking her.
Someone else walked up. Cynthia couldn't tell if they were looking at her, but she felt like they were looking at her. Were they just looking at the scenery? No way. With her dressed like this and holding her present 'display' position, she was sure they were looking at her. Male?
Female? Cynthia wanted to look, but Ben said, 'Stay in position.' ...so Cynthia, not wanting to be Cynful, continued to stay in position. She could feel Benjamin leave her alone again. The minutes ticked by more like hours. Someone walked up to her and abruptly grasped her crotch... "What is this?" Ben asked.
"Benjamin's Pussy," was her prompt reply.
Cynthia was alone again as Benjamin walked away leaving her once again. The solitude of loneliness enveloped her once again. Time had no meaning, minutes are immeasurable when you are alone.
A touch on her wrist surprised her and she gave the slightest little flinch. Then a soft caress on her arm. She wanted to look, but she didn't.
"Very nice package." said Ben's welcome voice. "I think I'll take it home"
Cynthia gave a noticeable sigh of relief. But true to Ben's instructions for her to, 'Stay in this position', she kept her body motionless.
"Good girl", he said, and taking her hand in his, "Come on, let's go home."
"Home?" Cynthia asked.
"Yes, home. Your place may be your apartment; a place where you stay. Your residence. My place is my home, and from now on my home is your home. So, as I said, let's go home."
With a joyful song in her heart, Cynthia walked home hand in hand with her Benjamin for the first time.
The remainder of the afternoon continued as a pleasant excursion into rewarding romantic endeavors. Cuddling, kissing, caressing, spanking (of course), and ending with an elegant prime rib dinner in her new home.
There were the ever-present phone calls from Benjamin's cell phone that Cynthia adapted to quite well. Her answer times were improving; Cynthia often was able to answer on the first ring. Benjamin's vague mention of some of their future activities were a fascination. He had plans to take her shopping for new clothes. Some custom made clothes were also mentioned. Cynthia was most pleased that there wasn't any mention of any new D/s duties for her to achieve. She thanked her lucky stars the prompt phone answering she accomplished seemed to curtail some of the intensity she experienced earlier in the day. Ben vaguely mentioned some home improvements he had in mind, but no specific details were forthcoming.
Shopping for clothes, custom clothes, home improvements, spanking, Cynthia was in her own private Utopia. Her life was wonderful; it superceded anything in her past. The day drew to a close and Cynthia regretfully drove to her apartment in preparation for the week ahead.
The days passed without incident, except for the occasional random call from Ben to refine and maintain her phone answering skills.
On Thursday evening Ben came over to her apartment to evaluate her clothing inventory. He explained with, "How can I take you shopping for clothes if I don't know what you already have?"
Ben arrived as his wonderful, masculine, handsome self. Cynthia almost swooned at the sight of him. He immediately wanted to take a tour of her closets and bureau. Cynthia was nonplussed at the intensity of his goal to know her complete wardrobe inventory.
He started at the top left hand drawer of her bureau and systematically worked his way though every drawer. Ben took every item out of each drawer for examination before tossing the item into one of two different piles. He was fast and confident in his choices. At first Cynthia wasn't sure exactly what he was accomplishing. Clearly the casual (baggy) less feminine items were dominating one of the piles. However she was unable to discern exactly what the second pile status was.
After the bureau was empty, Ben asked Cynthia to get him some garbage bags. She came back with two bags.
Ben looked at her with a surprised expression on his face and said, "We'll need more than two, bring another one."
Upon her return, Ben told her to take the 'casual' clothes pile and put all the items into one of the trash bags. As soon as Cynthia started stuffing the garbage bag, Ben started to sort the other pile of clothes. When she finished, Ben told her to put the bag over by the door.
Cynthia was puzzled and asked, "What are you doing?"
Ben replied, "The bag you filled will be thrown out. This pile is questionable. Some will be put back in the bureau, while others will be useable when we alter them properly to make them acceptable."
"But Benjamin, all my underwear is in this bag, I can't go around without underwear."
"Well, I see Cynful is back with us. Let me explain. You will no longer wear any panties, pantyhose, or bras, period. To ensure you follow this directive, I'm simply throwing them out. All the other items are being sorted into acceptable, acceptable if altered, or unacceptable. The acceptable will go back in the drawer, the 'acceptable if altered' will be taken to a seamstress for proper alteration, and the unacceptable will join your underwear tonight. Any questions?"
"Well, you certainly have forgotten how to answer a question properly... Let's try again. Any questions?"
"No Benjamin, Cynful does not have any questions."
Benjamin smiled, "Well, that's a step in the right direction. Now let's move to step two. What does Cynful want to do with her clothes?"
"Whatever pleases Benjamin."
"Yes, and it damn well pleases Benjamin to throw out all of these despicable rags that you will never wear again... Do you understood?"
"Yes, Benjamin, Cynful understands."
Benjamin then added, "And Cynful will stay absolutely silent for the rest of the evening. Would Cynful like that?"
"Damn girl! What part of absolutely silent don't you understand?"
Cynful stood before Benjamin with her head down. 'Not the damned corner again.' she thought.
"Well, you really stepped in it this time, girl." Benjamin grabbed her hair and pulled her into the corner. "Get in the corner, nine points touching... nose, eyebrows, cheeks, shoulders, and breasts continuously touching both walls... not bad, feet back a little more. Arch your back so you push your breasts forward while you stick out your ass at the same time. Now stay there, silent and frozen in position."
Cynful was awkward in this position. From the very beginning, she couldn't move at all. She knew this would slowly mutate into another of the pain/pleasure cycles she repeatedly experienced with Benjamin.
No way for her to stop. No way to continue without the ongoing pain. No way out. She was here, she would stay here, she would experience pleasure... just not right away.
Cynful regretted her lack of ability to follow directions. Everything had been flowing smooth and easy with no details to be alert for. She was caught off guard. But that's not the reason she's standing in the corner. She was standing in the corner because Benjamin changed gears in the middle of the interrogation pattern that she was accustomed to. Clearly the standard patterns that Benjamin established need not be the standard pattern that Benjamin would adhere to on a permanent basis.
Cynful's new mantra was, 'Stay alert, always stay alert.'
Her body was defying her; the pain was growing to higher levels than she had ever experienced before. The answer was to shift her position... a small adjustment might not be noticed... Right! Benjamin always noticed her indiscretions. This was no exception.
"Cynful! The words were 'silent and frozen'. Stand still!"
Benjamin had been sorting through her closet and was bringing some items out to place in the 'throw out' bag when he noticed Cynful's movement.
"I know just what to use to expand on the intensity of your corner visit." He walked back into the closet. Her skirts, blouses, dresses, and coats had all been evaluated and the rejects bagged for permanent rejection for the next trash pick up. Ben was ready to start on her shoes.
Cynful's shoes were mostly size seven, but a few older shoes from her younger high school days were size six. Ben found what must have been her first really tall high heels. And they were size six.
"We have a winner, Cynful. Here are some new shoes for you to wear during the rest of your 'corner' visit. Size six with five inch heels. They were kept on what looked like your 'favorite' shelf. I'm sure you'll remember them... or at least your feet will. These shoes will look much better than those two inch 'little girl' heels you were wearing when I arrived."
Benjamin pushed her shoulders into the corner and told Cynthia to lift her right foot. He swapped over to her size six shoe. It wasn't easy, Benjamin had to really force the shoe onto her foot as he wiggled it back and forth. The left side was soon force-fitted with the matching size six shoe. Benjamin soothed her with, "I'm sure these shoes will get your attention. Nothing else has changed, stay silent and frozen. If you break the position, we can always have you stand on one foot."
Now Cynful stood with her feet crammed tightly into her tight high heels. Her distress was now approaching abject pain. Untenable, merciless, hopeless, were the only words her mind could process. Cynful had no options. She stood. She hurt. She stayed silent and frozen.
At long last, Benjamin was finished with the clothes evaluation and sorting. Three garbage bags were to be thrown out, two other bags scheduled to be taken to a seamstress for alterations. The remaining clothes were strewn around the living room.
Cynful, again at the abyss of pain, heard, "Cynful, crawl over here," from Benjamin as he sat on the living room couch.
She collapsed in relief. Her body still shaking, Cynful slowly crawled over to Benjamin with the best interpretation of an erotic crawl she could produce under the circumstances.
Benjamin said, "Up here," as he patted the couch beside him.
The pain/pleasure cycle began its transformation once again... Benjamin carried her into the bedroom and with soft words of affection conjoined with caressing and kisses the pair returned to the dalliance they had previously enjoyed. Benjamin initiated more intimate touching along with a small vibrator he discovered in the night stand. Cynful's body responded slowly, but regained the stamina to achieve one of the strongest orgasms she ever experienced.
This solidified something for her; she was Benjamin's and apparently she would stay Benjamin's.
She woke up when her alarm went off at 7:00 Friday morning. She had plenty of time to get to work at 9:00. There was a note on the pillow beside her.
Come to my place after work. Be there at 5:35 dressed in the clothes I laid out for you on the coffee table. This weekend we'll go shopping for some new clothes to compliment your up-coming wardrobe needs.
Cynthia arrived at Ben's place at 5:32. She waited at his door for three minutes so she could knock on the door at the prescribed 5:35.
Ben opened the door with, "Right on time, the start of a perfect day. Come on in."
Cynthia was dressed in the abbreviated outfit Ben had laid out for her on the coffee table. No surprises here. A short narrow black skirt, sheer see-through blouse with no bra, sheer black seamed stockings with a fancy lace garter at the top, and her highest five and a half inch heels that she had purchased specifically to please Benjamin. He even included jewelry for her. A wide black leather choker with a 'D' ring in front which made it look more like a heavy duty dog collar. Cynthia had a premonition... it looked like it could be a slave collar to her. Was she destined to be his slave? She set the notion aside as being too bizarre. Since Benjamin had termed the collar as jewelry, Cynthia put her hair up high in a ponytail to show off her long swanlike neck and display his gift.
Ben stood back to admire her, then started his classic circumnavigation of her body. It pleased Cynthia that Ben liked looking at her. When his hands followed the path his eyes had taken, she often would shiver and blush at the same time. Ben had a special talent for finding her most sensitive erotic nerve endings and sending her into a frenzy. Cynthia loved him and feared him at the same time. She could not determine the right terminology. It was neither love nor fear; it was sex. Or at least a sexual magnet that attracted her and drove her towards the flame of his desire while oblivious to anything else.
"We're going out to dinner at L'Artists Grande Piazza. But first we need to add to your jewelry with something I acquired this afternoon." Ben reached for her hand and produced a wide silver cuff which he snapped on her wrist. Taking her other hand he added a matching cuff to that wrist. Ben then told her, "Sit down on the chair," whereupon he placed matching cuffs on her ankles.
Cynthia was dazzled by the additional jewelry and a few moments passed before she noticed the cuffs themselves. They were oval cuffs that fit her wrists and ankles to perfection. And she noticed there was something unusual about them... They all had prominent 'D' rings on both sides of each cuff. What she did not know was that once the cuffs or collar clicked shut, they could only be opened with a special key.
The premonition Cynthia felt upon seeing the 'D' ring on her choker was even stronger now... she had to ask. "Benjamin, are these bondage items for being used with ropes or chains?"
"But you can't do any of that outside in public, can you?"
"Absolutely. The restaurant has a liberal view of D/s activities and caters to the customers and staff of The Fantasy Lounge, where we met after your birthday party. Without any chains being attached, the restaurant simply views the cuffs and collars as kinky jewelry. They do tend to ignore those to whom B&D activities are a serious lifestyle activity.
"But first we'll have some coffee and chat about our plans for the weekend. Besides, it's too early for dinner just yet."
Cynthia pondered what to do in the interim... "You remember how naughty I was last night?"
"Who could forget? ...have anything special in mind?"
"Yes, punish me!"
"Anything particular in mind?"
"A spanking would be nice."
"Cynful, is there anything you wouldn't do for a spanking?"
She got up and ran over in front of him. With an impish grin on her face, she stuck her tongue out at him and ran behind the coffee table.
Benjamin smiled as he leapt to his feet and started chasing her while announcing in an authoritative voice, "The game is afoot! Cynful is indeed sinful tonight. There is a price to pay for such blatant transgressions."
"But you will never catch me that easily. If it weren't for these sky-scraper high heels that you make me wear, you might never catch me at all."
"And therein lies the reasoning for the new high heels that can be locked onto your feet."
With swift hands Ben swept the naughty Cynful off her feet and deposited her onto his heart shaped bed. With adept fingers, his belt was released, his pants removed, her skirt was up, and Ben informed her, "This is one of the reasons Cynful will no longer wear underwear."
Between her giggling and his kisses he could hardly hear her say, "Gee, Cynful never thought of that!"
He pounced on her and in one swift motion drove his cock into her eagerly waiting moist pussy. The movements were intense as he pounded forward time after time, his penis penetrating as his pelvis pounded against her pelvis and clit without mercy. This almost brutal action on his part did not go unnoticed by Cynthia, who answered with some strong pelvic thrusting of her own.
Ben smiled and breathing heavily said, "What a wanton slut."
To which Cynthia's body surged in erotic pleasure. Slut, Minx, Vamp... whatever.
They never did make it out to dinner at L'Artists Grande Piazza.
The Saturday morning shopping transpired on schedule with Cynthia still wearing her collar and cuffs and dressed in her outfit with the see-through blouse, seamed stockings and her ponytail from the night before. Ben took Cynthia to Debbi's Boutique of Elegance and Sophistication, located in an elite upscale area of town.
Upon entering the boutique, Cynthia marveled at the beautiful evening dress in powder blue satin accented by black lace that Ben picked out for her. Cynthia was convinced that Ben had visited the boutique prior to this visit in order to pre-select the dress. She was especially pleased with the plunging neckline which was nearly six inches wide at her breasts and narrowed slightly as it traveled down to be four inches wide at her waist. Her breasts displayed, along with her obviously flat stomach, an erotic vista that was beyond compare. Prominent and beckoning as a blatant invitation for sex, yet in this Haute Couture dress, daring is all that could be said about it in public. The waist was small and accentuated her hips and ass in a way that oozed the approaching fulfillment of pure unrestricted sex. The skirt was snug on her thighs and stayed narrow all the way down to her ankles. This was a true pencil skirt in the image of the classic Eric Stanton's erotic fetish art of some years ago.
To further accentuate the pencil skirt effect, Benjamin chose an extremely high pair of platform heels for Cynthia to wear with the dress. Six inch platforms with skyscraper twelve inch stiletto heels. Wearing these tall extended high heels with the narrow dress completed a tall slender profile that was stunning to say the least. Statuesque and elegant, but with sex written all over them. The writing may have been invisible, but the intent was inescapable. Fortunately for Cynthia there was a kick pleat that went up the back of the dress that allowed her to walk with relative ease considering the shoes provided. Benjamin may be dominant and strict, but at this moment he was once again her Prince Charming.
Cynthia began browsing some cocktail dresses while Ben conferred with the resident seamstress as to alterations he wanted before they returned to pick up the dress later in the day. Cynthia had a cocktail dress and a party dress set aside to show Ben. Meanwhile, she was looking at a third dress when he arrived. Ben was pleased with what she had picked out and immediately ushered her and the dresses over to the dressing rooms.
The cocktail dress Cynthia tried on was the typical black lace, chiffon combination seen throughout the world. The lace top was somewhat suggestive by virtue of being provocatively see-through, but nothing bizarre, as a delicate camisole top was built into the dress for modesty. High class, yes, but not with the eye catching merit Ben demanded at this time. This dress would also have to be altered. The hem was four inches above the knee and this was fine, but the top needed special attention. Ben also talked to the seamstress about this while Cynthia was trying on the party dress.
The party dress was more to Benjamin's liking. The hem was nine inches above Cynthia's knees and with a fuller skirt that accented her legs to perfection. At first glance, it was self-evident that her collar needed to be removed before Cynthia tried the dress on. The top was snugly fitted from the waist up all the way to a tall Mandarin 'posture' collar that was tall enough to demand she hold her head high in an enforced haughty looking position. The dress actually had laces at the back reaching from the tall collar, quickly tapering out to ten inches wide at her shoulders and reaching all the way down to her waist. Her back looked superb framed within the dress and crisscrossed with black laces. Benjamin immediately envisioned her wearing the dress with the addition of vivid red whip marks displayed on her back against the contrasting black laces. This black dress would be stunning.
Since this dress was also black Ben selected a pair of black strappy heels which left her dainty toes and instep on display. The shoes were a perfect feminine match to the dress. Cynthia looked in the mirror and was thrilled with her appearance. She had never even imagined herself in such a divine ensemble.
Ben wasn't totally pleased with the shoes and had the staff scurrying about to find a pair with a taller heel. He told them, "The five inch heel on this pair is inadequate. I want to see at least six inch heels with this dress."
The staff had to dig a bit, but they soon came back with the correct size in six inch heels that Ben demanded. When Cynthia tried them on, she was uncertain about wearing them for more than a minute or two... They were high. They were really high. Her heel was so high her instep was pushed up to vertical. The size was right, and after a moment to establish standing, she started her model's walk to show Ben what these shoes looked like with the dress. She told Ben, "Thank goodness I took ballet lessons in high school and college or I'd never be able to wear shoes this high."
Ben was pleased with what he saw, however from the look on his face Cynthia knew he wanted something else. Sure enough, he said, "Let's see what six and a half inch heels look like." Cynthia told herself, 'Why can't I keep quiet? The six inch heels were my limit for walking. Not sure what I'll do in six and a half inch heels.'
Miraculously, the staff found the aforementioned shoes. Cynthia thought sarcastically, 'Six and a half, that's all? Don't you have seven?'
In the mean time, Ben enthusiastically said, "Great, let's see what these look like."
Cynthia sat while the salesman fitted the shoes to her feet. He was pleased and his smile showed it. Cynthia was showing lots of leg as the shoes were slipped on. The six and a half inch heels pushed her instep past vertical. Not typical of anything you'd see on the street; more like what you would see an exotic runway model wear.
Standing up was more of a challenge now, Cynthia gave one little lurch as she fought to establish her balance. After that she did well in the tall shoes. The staff, with eyebrows raised, nodded in approval. Ben's voice boomed, "Now that's exactly what we needed. We'll take them."
Cynthia commented, "It will take some practice, but with time I'll conquer the shoes and be able to wear them on a regular basis."
Benjamin said, "Next!"
Cynthia returned to the dressing room with the third dress which promised to be a cute little pink number with a short skirt and a sheer see-through top. On the hanger Cynthia wasn't sure about what looked to be a very short skirt on this dress, but decided to give it a try. If nothing else, Cynthia was sure Ben would be pleased. Ben was indeed rather enthusiastic as he gave her a little nudge towards the dressing room with the dress in her hand.
Cynthia was right about the short skirt. She was stunned at what she saw in the mirror. The skirt was short, damned short, more like a ballerina's tutu. And it came complete with multi layered crinolines underneath to flare the tiny skirt out and accentuate the shortness even more. The length may have been questionable as to whether her pussy was peeking out or not, but as Cynthia turned around to look into the mirror over her shoulder to see herself from behind she was appalled, she might as well be naked. Her ass was doing a lot more than just peeking out from behind her. Her ass was jumping up and down and waving it's arms shouting, 'Hey, Look At Me'. This was what the porno videos used to tease their male customers towards purchases. Certainly Benjamin wouldn't ask her to wear this out in public... maybe at home for some special sexual teasing, but no way could she go out in public like this without concerns about possibly being arrested.
As if the almost nonexistent skirt wasn't concern enough, from the waist up there was nothing but ultra sheer totally see-through pale pink material. The wearer of this dress would clearly be expected to wear a bra. Benjamin's elimination of her underwear certainly circumvented this idea of any modesty for Cynthia. Grin and bear it seemed to be one of her regular duties with Benjamin. Her submissive demeanor persevered and she took her nearly naked self with the strength of one who obeys, and stepped boldly out into the showroom.
Ben had this evil grin on his face when Cynthia walked out in the six and a half inch heels, no skirt to speak of, and a top so sheer as to be almost nonexistent. His voice echoed about the room as he announced in triumph, "Now that's more like it! Perfection has been achieved." There was that pregnant pause Cynthia had learned to hate.
'What was he thinking now? Oh, I don't think I want to know. Yes, Oh God, here it comes...'
Ben looked at Cynthia, walked in circles around his prey, her looking up and down as he appraised her nearly naked body. "There's just one more thing... She needs a pair of seven inch heels!"
The manager commented that the only shoes they had with seven inch heels were the stimulating 'en pointe' ballet boots.
"That's not a problem, she's had ballet lessons. Ballet boots will be a walk in the park for her. And be sure to get a pair that has a strap that can lock around her ankles." Cynthia was stunned. She thought, 'Did Benjamin read her thoughts about seven inch heels? Ballet is one thing, but walking down the street while continually 'en pointe' is a different story. And Ben wants them to be locked on!'
She couldn't believe it when they actually produced a pair of ballet boots from inventory. What on earth is a Haute Couture boutique like this doing with lockable ballet boots?
She again sat down to have the salesman slip the boots onto her feet and lace them up. Benjamin produced the key to Cynthia's ankle cuffs and handed it to the shoe salesman, instructing him to remove the ankle cuffs in order to have space for the ballet boots and their locking strap to fit her ankles. The salesman asked if her ballet boots were tight enough.
Cynthia replied, "I'm not even sure if I can walk in these. I certainly don't need them to be tighter."
He responded knowledgeably with, "It is better to have these shoes a bit on the tight side rather than too loose. If they're not tight enough, there will be no support for the foot. Your foot will slide down into the shoe and all your weight will be on your toes."
Cynthia reflected on her ballet training and said, "Yes, I remember that now. You're right, get me the next smaller size. I'm sure I will regret this decision at first, but later this will prove to be for the best."
As the salesman started to leave, Ben asked, "Do you have her size in red patent leather?"
"Yes sir, we do," replied the salesman.
"Then get the red patent leather pair for her. Let's make sure the whole world can see them. And while he's getting those, I need someone to help me with a small head piece in addition to the shoes."
The manager came forward and inquired, "What can I help you with, sir?"
"I'm thinking of a small tasteful item with a few red feathers to compliment the red shoes. Do you have something in that area?"
"I'll check and be back momentarily."
The salesman with the ballet boots and the manager along with two assistants bringing feathered hats arrived almost simultaneously.
Ben looked over the three hats that were offered for his approval and selected the petite chapeau with three red feathers standing in a row to one side that measured a tasteful four, five, and six inches in length. Delicate and feminine, this would be a perfect balance at the top to match the red patent ballet boots soon to be locked on her feet at the bottom.
"Excellent choice, sir." the manager said before withdrawing with his assistants.
Cynthia offered her foot for the salesman to slip the first ballet boot onto her. Then the second, before he asked, "How do these feel?" as he nudged, squeezed, twisted and pulled.
Cynthia replied, "The fit is good, I think I'll do well with these. Lace them up and let me try them."
Cynthia was pleasantly surprised to be addressed with such honor and respect... not quite the strict firmness that Benjamin dominated her with. But upon reflection, she had to admit this honor and respect, while being appreciated for the moment, was not making her juices flow. The salesman might want to buy her a rose, but Benjamin could buy her heart an erotic surge of emotion with his eyes taking one intense look into her soul. Cynthia had to admit, she was Cynful whether she wanted to be or not.
Testing her ability to walk in the ballet boots was anticlimactic. She did well in them. What seemed like endless tedium in her previous ballet lessons was now paying off with her being confident in her ability to walk in such a unique and specialized shoe. From her ballet lessons, Cynthia knew it was premature to think this short five minute trial was a precursor to extended walking. But with daily training she would gradually be able to walk further and with a longer duration every day. And she would do this to please Benjamin. Past experiences with Benjamin emphasized that her submission to him was always rewarded with sex... enough said.
Benjamin consolidated the details of their purchases with the manager.
The powder blue formal dress with the skyscraper platform heels would be picked up this afternoon with the dress altered as had been discussed with their resident seamstress.
The black cocktail dress with the lace top also needed to be altered. Ben mentioned he had already arranged for this with the seamstress and she would have both dresses, ready to be picked up later this afternoon.
The party dress, black with the strappy six and a half inch high heels, was good as is. They would be picked up at the same time as the previously mentioned altered pair of dresses.
"Cynthia will wear the pink dress that she is in now, along with the ballet boots when we leave. We'll pick up the hat, her ankle cuffs, and collar with the other items this afternoon."
Cynthia's head snapped around as she said, "What? I'm wearing this ultra short dress with the see-through top and ballet boots home now?"
"No, you're wearing this outfit as we do the rest of our shopping now."
"What do you want, Cynful?"
Cynthia wasn't expecting to be called Cynful here in this elite store, but she knew what it meant. Cynthia had strayed and her status had just been returned to Cynful. She started to blush.
"Well, what does Cynful want?" Ben replied.
"Whatever pleases Benjamin."
"Took you a while to get there. Let's not revisit this issue again. Regardless, there will be an incentive to apply towards remembering better behavior when we get home, can't let this kind of thing get out of hand, can we?"
Staying true to her previous training Cynful replied, "No Benjamin, we can't let this get out of hand."
"And what does Cynful suggest we do about this display of negative behavior?"
This was getting so embarrassing for Cynthia, the whole store was intent on her interaction with Benjamin. But there was no place else to go at the moment. No options. Only one choice. "Benjamin should punish Cynful for her sinful behavior today."
"Good girl, are you sure Cynful is starting to understand the harsh reality of how this works."
"Yes, Benjamin, Cynful understands the harsh reality of how this works, Sir."
Cynthia purposely added 'Sir' in an effort emphasize her total acceptance of the situation. She was rewarded with a firm hug from Benjamin.
While she knew full well there would be some pain later in the day, she breathed a sigh of relief for now. Benjamin had accepted her return to proper behavior, that is what mattered... until Benjamin took a four foot length of chain out of his pocket and locked the chain around her neck. With a firm, "Heel!" holding the other end of the chain in his left hand he started to pull her towards the door and out onto the sidewalk. Cynthia was stunned; everyone in the store applauded their approval as Benjamin started towards the exit... 'what kind of a store was that?'
Cynthia later found out the pink dress was one out of only five 'X' rated dresses the Boutique made over the last eight years. She concluded that an expensive store in an expensive neighborhood could offer such unusual items, as long as some discretion is employed regarding the general public.
On the sidewalk, Benjamin told her, "For your edification, 'Heel' means to be silent and walk two feet behind my left shoulder. The better you follow this directive, the sooner we'll be back home. Listen carefully, if you can't follow me correctly, I'll walk you all over town until dawn tomorrow to convince you to behave properly. Do you understand?"
"Yes Benjamin, Cynful understands."
"Then off we go to the toy store. Benjamin thinks you'll like it at the toy store. What does Cynful think?"
"Cynful will like being at the toy store, Sir."
"Good! Two feet behind my left shoulder while remaining absolutely silent."
And with these words Cynthia knew to be quiet, because to Benjamin, 'absolutely quiet' meant 'absolutely quiet' and absolutely nothing else.
But her mind was thinking.
Yes, her mind was thinking, 'I hope no one is walking behind me.'
Cynthia noticed a clock in one of the store windows they passed. Noon. She had been so distracted with wearing the ultra short skirt and the ultra sheer top that she hadn't even noticed walking in the ballet boots for over half an hour. An excellent example of mind over matter.
When they finally arrived at the toy store, Cynthia found it interesting that the actual name was The Toy Store. When they entered it was no big surprise that there weren't any children there. Her first glance was enough to establish this was an adult toy store. Collars, cuffs, whips, chains, an adult sized cage, rubber and leather clothing... everything a BDSM aficionado would cherish and use and lust over.
Trepidation ran rampant. While some of the items offered nice D/s possibilities, other items were specifically designed to inflict rather intense pain. Cynthia wanted to turn and leave. She knew that would have been a disastrous move, and the repercussions would be sure to shake her world long term. Cynful was already on Benjamin's shit list. No need to exacerbate their sometimes tenuous relationship any further. Bridge building between the two of them is what she needed to excel at right now. A spark ignited within her and Cynful struck out into uncharted water. Seeing some seriously heavy unbreakable cuffs on the wall, in a bright happy voice, she offered, "Master, these cuffs might be of interest for you to use on Cynful when she is naughty."
Benjamin's head snapped in her direction and he paused momentarily.
Since there was no negative response to her addressing him as 'Master', Cynthia took that as possible acceptance on his part... she continued, "And a matching set is available to use on my ankles, if you wish."
"Uh huh" is all he said.
Upon seeing a dauntingly large collar, she added, "This collar would keep Cynful well under control if Master wishes to lock it on her." Finally Ben responded, "Does Cynful understand what she is implying?"
"Yes, Master, Cynful is acknowledging her impertinence and wishes to willfully demonstrate her desire to submit to her Master, Benjamin. She seeks Benjamin's acceptance of her, for his guidance, training, and control. Do with her as you wish."
"Does Cynful understand the implications of what she is saying?"
"Yes Master, Cynful understands what she is saying and she looks forward to Master implementing these actions."
"Then so shall it be." Turning to the clerk, he said, "This trouble maker needs some strong restraints. What she has now isn't much more that kinky jewelry. Show me what you have available to keep this wench in her place."
"We have a wide selection for you to choose from. All of our heavier cuffs and collars are in stock and are sized for women as well as men."
Ben replied with, "Excellent! I prefer the oval cuffs; they are contoured to her wrists and ankles and can realistically be worn for extended periods of time. Additionally they need to have 'D' rings on both sides so they can easily be attached in a wide variety of applications."
Moving down the aisle the clerk directed them to a large wall mounted glass case. "I'm sure these will meet your needs." He opened the cabinet doors. "Is there any particular price range your interested in?"
"Price is no object. The bitch is paying for these herself."
Cynthia's eyebrows shot up in wide eyed surprise. She had no money with her, no ID, no credit card. Everything was back at Benjamin's apartment. At this moment she was penniless.
"This is our high security section. There are four levels available and in stock. Standard, Strict, Heavy, Extreme. If there is anything you want that you don't see in this case, just ask. We may have it elsewhere in the store or out in the warehouse."
Ben said, "Give me a minute to remove her light weight wrist cuffs. Then let's look at some of the Heavy items here. They will be used for training and correction, so there's no sense in wasting time on lesser weight versions."
"Yes sir, these are the female sizes of the Heavy oval double 'D' ring cuffs. They lock securely by just closing them onto the subject at hand. They have been proven to be inescapable, even by experts."
Ben said, "These look good, but first we need to put a discipline hood on this one. Just because she's paying doesn't mean she has to see what she's getting."
"You're right on the button there." Turning to another display case, he said, "We have three versions of hoods for you to consider. In order of price they would be the Spandex, rubber, or leather. Our best is the Elite Leather: firm, secure, padded over the ears, and can be locked to be totally inescapable. This particular model also has a hole for her ponytail to be displayed." Cynthia quickly braided her ponytail to be more convenient for trying on the leather hood.
"The Elite Leather hood is our choice."
Cynthia was in a quandary. No money and about to be totally helpless; she had no option but to follow Benjamin's lead.
Ben continued, "I'll put this on her. I want to keep her strapped in tight and to be helpless for a while."
The leather hood was slipped over her head while Benjamin threaded her braided ponytail through the opening. Cynthia was in the dark, no light and very little sound. She started to raise her hands up to her face to feel the hood. A pair of handcuffs immediately locked her wrists behind her back. Cynthia was helpless. She could feel the straps on the hood being tightened. Ben made it tight alright. Tighter than she thought it needed to be. But then, she had already offered herself to Ben for his unrestricted use of her mind and body, so if Ben wanted the hood to be tight, then the hood would be tight. It was as simple as that. The hood had thick padding over her ears so the most she could hear sounded like muffled sounds in the distance.
There was a pause, no one was touching her. She felt alone. She knew other customers were drawn to her dilemma even before the hood was placed on her head. She was experiencing the paradox of being alone... alone in a group. Isolated, yet not isolated. Protected? She hoped so.
There was someone touching the hood again. A little here, a little there. Her handcuffs were released and she reached up to feel the hood. Straps everywhere, around her head from front to back, up and down, diagonally, under her chin. Tight, unmoving, relentless.
When she realized there were locks on each of the buckles, she almost fainted. The hood was locked on her head. No sight, no sound... unless you include the sound of her own breathing.
Ben made a gesture toward Cynthia as a silent invitation for everyone to join in free access to Cynthia's slave experience.
The little tutu skirt and blatantly displayed breasts had gotten everyone's attention. Her ass was being fondled, pinched, caressed. Then her legs were noticed and the fingers sliding up her legs were repeatedly discovering her unprotected cunt. Ben liked to call her pussy a cunt when she was naughty. Her breasts received attention along with her nipples being stimulated and repeatedly pinched. She couldn't even start to count the number of hands tormenting her. Some of the men were starting to spank her... and she liked it. Others would pinch her clit. Not overly harshly, but previously that item had been reserved for Benjamin, alone. When she squirmed to prevent the pinching, they would hold her and spank the daylights out of her defenseless clit.
As soon as she started making noises in protest, the mouth opening of the hood was unzipped and a flexible dildo was pushed down her throat. At first she was able to accommodate the dildo, but when the spanking of her clit was renewed she tried to protest again. Ben's answer to this was to push the dildo even deeper down her throat. Cynthia was able to work the dildo out an inch or so. With that success she tried some more. She recognized Ben's voice and could tell he didn't like that one little bit. The dildo was pushed further down her throat and she felt the lock being replaced. Cynthia would adjust to the assault on her throat, there was no other choice. Ass, clit, throat, all the pain centers overwhelming her at once. With no escape. Held in place. Helpless. A strange feeling of being alone... in a crowd.
Her arms were held out from her sides and heavy cuffs were locked on her wrists. This was done in just a few seconds. In a flash she was standing defenseless with no recourse but to suffer the onslaught of her unknown assailments.
Another set of cuffs were put on her ankles before being pulled well apart. She was essentially spread-eagled and locked in place with unrelenting steel. Small paddles were added to the spanking hands so her legs, thighs, ass, cunt, stomach, breasts and back were appealing targets of opportunity for the tormenting monsters from which she had no hope of escaping.
Cynthia knew Benjamin was her prime tormentor, she recognized his touch and sequence of torment.
Benjamin gave the group a gesture to stop and be quiet.
Suddenly there was silence and solitude.
Cynthia really did feel alone now.
No touch. No sound. No movement. Just isolation.
Left without the distraction, she became more and more aware of the discomfort she felt from the tension on the cuffs. In analysis it wasn't the cuffs themselves that were painful. The pain was from the lack of movement and the tension... both mental and physical.
She promised herself over and over to be a good girl.
Would Benjamin forgive her?
Was her asking for the heavy duty training cuffs actually overkill, or a serious gift graciously and knowledgeably received by her Master?
Cynthia slowly drifted off into a nebulous dreamland...
When she woke the hood was no longer in place. She was alone and lying on a cot while being held in place by steel cuffs. Couldn't tell which of these were the cuffs put on her to begin with or another set that Benjamin wanted to evaluate. Either way, she was secure and unmoving. She drifted in semi consciousness for some time. Didn't know how much time. There was no clock in sight.
It was Ben who woke her completely and helped her get up. He took her to a mirror for her to see her new jewelry. Ben said, "These are the heavy cuffs. We tried the extreme cuffs, but with the collar, they weighed nearly a hundred pounds which is much too heavy to be practical for any extended wearing. The heavy cuffs are significant enough and would never be mistaken for jewelry... and with the collar, the women's version weighs in at a nice feminine forty pounds. Enough to get your attention, but not so much as to be overwhelming. I've been told they are strong enough to hold the strongest gorilla on earth. They certainly will keep My Cynful easily contained, constrained and out of trouble..."
Cynful was glowing inside with Benjamin's mention of 'My Cynful'. She had to fight herself to keep from looking like a bubbling teenager. Wow, heavy cuffs, chained, helpless and happy... There could be no doubt she was none other than Cynful.
"Come on, I received a phone call. The alterations are complete and your new clothes are ready to pick up.
Cynful asked, "Benjamin, Master, will Cynful be wearing the new cuffs back to the boutique?"
"First answer this: Do the heavy cuffs answer Cynful's desire to submit to her Master in the deep unlimited submission she mentioned earlier?"
"Yes Benjamin, Cynful is not only pleased, but actually ecstatic in her acceptance of her Master's control. This is something that has blossomed within me from a previous seed Cynful didn't even know existed."
"As far as wearing the cuffs and collar... Yes, of course, that's what you bought them for. Not only to demonstrate, but also to display the submission and control you give up to he who owns you."
"You own Cynful, Master?"
"What does Cynful think?"
It only took an instant for Cynthia to examine the dynamics of their D/s relationship and establish the truth she had not yet acknowledged.
"Yes, Master owns Cynful... Thank you, Sir."
"The cuffs are locked in place as a constant reminder for Cynful to behave properly. Does Cynful think they will be effective?"
"Yes Master, Cynful is sure the new cuffs will influence her behavior sufficiently to meet your standards."
"Glad to hear it."
"Did you notice the additions?"
"How could Cynful not notice? The additional cuffs above Cynful's knees can be seen a block away."
"That's the whole point, my dear, the large cuffs were never meant to be discreet... neither was the collar. Are they too heavy for you?"
"No Master, they are precisely what Cynful needs."
"Oh, Cynful, there's just one more thing... Bend over!"
Nothing happened for a while; the spanking she expected did not occur. Cynful didn't know what was coming next. Her butt was the first to know as her Master pressed the tip of a butt plug against her ass hole before pushing it up her ass.
As the butt plug was driven home, a wide eyed, "Oh my God," was her only response.
Benjamin spun her around and applied a shiny stainless steel clothes pin to each of her nipples.
Nipple torment had not yet been in their 'play book'. Cynful looked at Benjamin and could do nothing but swallow and say a breathless, "Oh my...," as strange new and amazing sensations surged throughout her body.
The toy store visit was demanding. Cynful was content with herself for gaining the privilege of using 'Master' when addressing Benjamin. This was his status. He was Her Master.
Ben had the chain leash locked onto her collar and added short chains between her ankle cuffs, her wrists cuffs behind her back, and a longer chain that went down from her collar, through her pussy, and then attached to the middle of the chain between her wrists. Now there was no doubt as to her pussy being uncovered. The chain from her collar drew everybody's eye directly to her naughty pussy.
The walk to pick up her new clothes was both attention getting and sensation receiving. Neither of these had she experienced in public. Her initial thoughts were 'How can he do this to me?' After a few blocks, this gradually was transformed into, 'I really want him to do this to me again." It was the slowly building erotic endorphins being triggered by the combination of her heavy cuffs, the clothespins on her nipples, and the unbelievable sensation of walking with a butt plug up her ass. These were all unique, unusual, rewarding, and... and... It was as if an ocean wave was surging with euphoric sexual desire within her body. The butt plug moving with each step she took. The clothespins on her nipples quivering in time with the quick hobbled movements of her ballet boots. The chains and cuffs maintaining their strict control. She was in a sexual morass of wanting everything at once. Her mind seeking more. Her body seeking more. Was she... what was the word? Yes, that's it! Was she becoming a nymphomaniac? Perhaps a specialized BDSM nymphomaniac? A Pain Slut? BDSM Whore? A limitless slavegirl?... Oh forget it, she is and always will be Cynful, a wanton wench to be kept in sexual torment to satisfy her constant needs and for Benjamin's pleasure; which are mutual, not exclusive.
Well, whatever she was becoming, she certainly was pleased to accept its arrival.
What was her mind doing now...? She just named the clothespins Heckle and Jeckle. Weren't those two cartoon characters? Well, they weren't cartoon characters to her. They were two private pain/pleasure centers focused on her nipples in a never-ending pleasure mode. The butt plug vied for equal attention. It wanted to be named 'Randy'. Cynthia couldn't deny the plug made her randy with every step she took... and that is how Heckle, Jeckle, and Randy were born.
The ride home after picking up the clothes went smooth as silk. Even though Ben had alluded to Cynthia carrying her new clothes home by herself in her ballet boots, the store planned to offer the company limo. Of course once they saw Cynthia all glassy eyed in her sexually undulating dreamland while she was in chains with the heavy cuffs and collar, there was no question as to the store's limo graciously providing them transportation home.
Unbeknownst to Cynthia, Ben paid for everything with her credit card. He had taken the card and ID out of her purse Friday night while she slept.
During their shopping, it was always clear that Benjamin was in charge. Neither Debbi's Boutique of Elegance and Sophistication, nor The Toy Store, questioned Ben's authority to pay with her credit card while using her ID. After all, Cynthia was constantly with him and could have protested at any time.
Cynthia's expenses for the day were:
Boutique = $3,500, Toy Store = $2,500, Total = $6,000.
The resulting sexual satisfaction = beyond belief.
In a single word, nirvana.
All was well with Benjamin. He had an enjoyable day shopping with Cynful.
Cynful had a wonderfully satisfying day which ended in euphoric sexual bliss that was unsurpassed.
Saturday Cynful spent the entire afternoon and evening in her cuffs and chains. The collar, cuffs, and chains stayed locked in place; what better way to test Cynful's durability while wearing them?
Benjamin clarified his domination by locking her leash to a bed post for the night.
Cynful wanted Benjamin to control her; there was no doubt this was being accomplished with ease.
Sunday. The Next Morning
Sunday morning Cynful was awakened by an abrupt burst of pain as Benjamin showered her ass with a non-stop flurry of intense spanking. Cynful was startled as Benjamin greeted her with, "Time for my wakeup call."
She didn't know what he was referring to and looked to him questioningly. The thought ran through her mind. 'His soft smile reassured me that I was not in trouble, but it was not until he raised his hand and pointed at his crotch that I knew I was his wakeup call.'
Benjamin affirmed this by saying. "Get your mouth on my cock. You have just been promoted to being my personal alarm clock, and my alarm clock always starts the morning with very enthusiastic cock sucking."
'With enthusiasm' was all Cynthia needed to hear as she literally threw herself into the task put before her. Being a total novice didn't defer her desire to please, so it was with an unabashed fervor that Cynthia threw her mouth, head, and body into achieving pleasure for her Benjamin.
An occasional glance at her Master's gentle smile of pleasure spurred Cynthia on to increase her pace with her whole body behind her actions. It's amazing what her twisted love enabled her mouth and body to accomplish. she was driven to please, and come hell or high water, she sucked and sucked while literally throwing her head repeatedly into completing Benjamin's wakeup call. The tension built, the sighs of pleasure increased, and the deed was done. Snuggling followed by mutual kissing involving some teasing with tongues.
She wasn't released from bed Sunday morning.
By noontime, activity was re-ignited from a new perspective. her body was constantly ravaged by Benjamin for his mutual entertainment and her equally intense torment. The butt plug came out and Benjamin's cock went in... repeatedly. After having the butt plug buried in her ass since visiting The Toy Store, Cynful was already tender back there. Benjamin continued to pummel her backside at will, her initial whimpering slowly transformed into a gentle mewing, erotic in nature and definitely not indicative of discomfort. As his pounding intensified, her emotions took the path towards her own deep seeded desire for more.
Cynthia's mind was asking for Benjamin to take her, control her, and push her deeper and deeper. she wanted him to make her cum. For him to drive her into the deepest sexual euphoria that, once initiated, was inescapable. Benjamin excelled at this, she couldn't escape.Furthermore, she didn't want to!
Cynthia remained in her cuffs, collar, and chains. Throughout the night Benjamin had reflected upon the events that occurred Saturday. He saw no reason to soft pedal his desire to control and dominate Cynthia to the fullest.
Cynthia herself had initiated being put into the intimidating restraints she had worn for the last twenty hours. Benjamin hadn't removed them, he saw no need. During some parts of Saturday, Cynthia had transgressed well beyond what her behavioral guidelines allowed. In an effort to redeem herself in Benjamin's eyes, she literally pledged herself into irreversible slavery.
In his mind, Benjamin contently reviewed Cynthia's own suggestions...
"Master, these cuffs might be of interest for you to use on Cynful when she is naughty."
"And a matching set is available to use on my ankles, if you wish."
"This collar would keep Cynful well under control, if Master wishes to lock it on her."
And then the fateful, 'Do with her as you wish.'
Well, Benjamin thought, she couldn't get more explicit than that.
And then she further clarified her intentions with: "Yes, Master, Cynful is acknowledging her impertinence and wishes to willfully demonstrate her desire to submit to her Master, Benjamin. She seeks Benjamin's acceptance of her, for his guidance, training, and control. So strong is her desire to please Benjamin; she beseeches you to please do with her as you wish."
And Benjamin's final thought on the matter: So shall it be
End of part 1
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