Sitting in the Master's library, her head buried in a book of French philosophical quotations, she read Voltaire's words over again: "It is not enough to conquer; one must know how to seduce." She was content in the way his words reaffirmed her own beliefs. There was more to submission than kneeling at the feet of some conquering machismo. She certainly believed that she could never quite learn to surrender completely to his sometimes less than gentlemanly attentions, were they not accompanied by a discrete charm and the certainty that the control offered was precisely that which she sought. The discrete charm of Mastery, she thought - now there was a film in the making - Bunuel eat your heart out. She had purred her double edged iconoclastic dig out loud into her Master's bourgeois ear and, with this not wholly mistaken conception in her mind, dared to test his humour once too often.
Within five minutes, despite her writhings, scratchings and struggles, she found that she could only test the ropes that bound her naked body a little. Her ability to move was far less than the incipient liberation (or was that libation) that she craved. Her wrists and her ankles were spread apart, tied to the four metal wheels under the settee's frame. It left her pulled forward in a rather precarious and twisted position. Despite the fact that he had chosen not to make her lean over the arm in the traditional punishment position, her face was thrust downwards towards the cushion by the tightness of the cord around her wrists. She felt in continual danger of falling forward flat on her face, supported by cords that bit into her ankles rather than her own body weight.
In her head, she thanked him silently for having found strong rope to bind her extremities. Each of her limbs, meshed as they were in strands of tough, fibrous material, was restrained securely. She quivered with annoyance, trying to retain her balance and keep her composure, divested of both her clothing and her modesty in the exhibitionist pose that she was forced to adopt. Anyone coming in would have seen her most private parts displayed in front of them like a once movable feast brought to book and stilled by the force of another's intentions. This unfairly embarrassing excess in response to her naturally teasing joie de vivre, alongside the prevaricating ambivalence that he displayed in silently walking away from her, rather than admiring her naked charms, was no sinecure to her pert sassiness. It merely reinforced her determination not to submit -- on this occasion at least.
Her vision was also severely constrained. The velvet blindfold that he had looped around her head, cut out all but the most blurred shadows and the crepuscular visions that she always controlled in her mind's eye. She was extremely irritated by the loose strands of rope that tickled and scratched at her wrists when she tugged at the bonds to test them. Splayed as she was, her capability for defiance, demonstrated by her shaking her head was undiminished. She inhaled deeply, thinking that this resistance at least enabled her to feel her own hair flowing freely down to touch her breasts and her belly. So it was with real control that she prevented herself from mewling in protest when she was forced to lift her head, as her hair was pulled up and swept away by an unseen yet forceful hand. She only remained silent though for fear of the ball gag that she had seen lying threateningly on the table before she temporarily lost possession of her own sight. She would not respect any brutal dominion over her body.
He knew that her recalcitrance would never just be held in check by his patent application of traditional dominant remedies. A puzzlingly intimate touch, therefore, paralleled the crude exhibition of masculine force. The musky perfume of the Master's hand that tugged at her hair, gave way to a more docile aroma, a smell faintly reminiscent of her own submission. Flesh rubbed against flesh and then a different texture came into contact with her. It was some kind of silky material. This cloth or garment was the source of the aroma. The immediacy of these softer sensations led her to believe that the roughness was being assuaged by the gentility and malleability of another female form. Who was the owner of this object that promised such mellifluous enticements? It hardly mattered, she shrugged, for such care and devotion might endear her, but it would never overpower or own her.
She felt the silken garment touch her breasts, as the hand explored the responsive contours of her chest. The erectile tissue grew hard despite her mental resistance to this onslaught. Turning her face from side to side, she sought escape from this overpowering presence. At the same time, paradoxically, she wanted to submit to further invasion. The hand traced its way sinuously down her body and began stroking her eager flesh lasciviously. Her belly was depressed by the light pressure of fingers as they passed playfully across her. Eventually, she felt them rubbing against her plump mound. Pinching fingers pulled teasingly at her naked flesh and then released her. She groaned in protest at the contradictions roused within her by this confusion of tactile responses. Making to rise, she tugged fretfully at the ropes that held her. Suddenly, one of the cords snapped. She toppled over to one side, raising the offending limb and her voice in a high pitched screech of triumph.
"That was neither a charming sound nor a discrete gesture, pet," he rasped harshly, reading her thoughts as ever. His hand grasped her neck, curtailing her hard won victory. He pressed her face roughly into the settee cushions. Her backside was irresistibly elevated. Her buttock cheeks parted obscenely by dint of the force of the ties that still constrained her ankles. She could sense his eyes boring into the crease of her backside and feel the gaping of the dark hole, hideously enlarged, in her mind's eye, from his close perspective, behind her. She trembled lightly as she felt his weight on her as he leant across her exposed body. Having feared that he would be unable to resist the dry depths of her anal attractions with such horrid exposure, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he stood up and moved away from her. She considered this to be another success of her unconquered free will.
Her second little victory was just as short lived as the first. She only began to realize it when she felt the cold dripping on the rounded elevation of her bottom first. This delicate rub over this most private opening had her cheeks tightening in an attempt to escape this unknown invader of her privacy. She wiggled but found the bonds only tightening as she sought to evade the pressing against her tightest hole. Then she felt the quickest of moves and the insertion of a cold she had not felt before.
"Do you like ice, little one?" a familiar voice asked soto voce. Not really wanting an answer yet another cube was slowly pressed in. She moaned at the harsh freeze it gave her insides and felt the liquid begin seeping down her leg as it melted.
"Another?" she overheard but knew it was not for her to answer.
"Yes," he eventually answered the question, emotionless. This one was bigger and required a little more effort to push past the hole she was squeezing tightly, an obvious promise of what was to come. It was pressed and pushed in deeply this time. She shivered at the freezing intrusion and the shockingly warm contrast of long slim fingers following it deep into her.
"Open," the soft voice demanded.
She obeyed and her lips were frosted with an icy sensation. The chill slipped between her lips and spread them wide. She felt it slide in long and thick before she tried to stop its progress by pulling away, but the hand gripping her jaw stopped her. It kept moving in deeper and the cold was demanding on her throat. The shape was quite familiar. The pet's hair was lifted in one hand and the blindfold removed for one-second for him to observe the mild panic in her eyes. They pleaded but he ignored. He dropped it to the cushion and ran his hand down the cascade of her hair several times.
"I do love playing popsicle with the pet," a feminine voice giggled as the long cold object was moved in and out a few times, her tongue sticking to the flavoursome end. Then, the girl felt hands spread her nether portals wide. She strained, pleaded then moaned as the tip of the icy prong was rubbed over her most sensitive of spots. It was so cold that she shook at the touch. It froze her at the touch and then it slid up to the next opening. This new invasion was a harsh delight. The head inserted and held there, they watched body clench it then release trying to decide which was the better.
The softer of the hands on her behind began rubbing her hard cold femininity, as other hands took firm grasp of the ice mold and pressed it deep into her. She whined in a mixture of relief and despair at the thought of what would happen next. She shivered at the pleasant recollection of the warm fingers that manipulated the icy intrusions into her lower regions. It was pressed in then slowly pulled to the end. Then again as she squirmed not knowing whether to fight the cold or delight in the obsequies paid to her charming entrances. The movement ceased but the cold remained. They stood watching her squirm against her invader in delight.
"This one will take a bit longer to melt," the softer voice announced. "Shall I retrieve the other item while we wait?"
"What do you think pet? Are you ready for something different?"
The room was silent and she could feel his unblinking gaze on the fleshy cheeks of her hind quarters. She pulled on the remaining restraints, finding them still as tight, hearing his clothes rustle behind her. His hand followed the curves and slipped over her delicacy. Nudging and rubbing her enough to make her breath a bit sharper. He watched the water seeping from her smaller orifice.
"Is she ready?"
"I can say with certainty that she moist," the Master responded on her behalf. In no time at all, the girl heard the whirring of a bamboo cane, heating the air. She braced herself. This sound always augured the rapid descent of the whippy instrument onto her flanks. She yelped as it cut sharply and slashed down hard upon her bare flesh. He growled at her to be silent and still. After mouthing her mute agreement, she tensed up as two further blows followed. She was sure that the torment left her backside well striped. Apart from biting into her lip and blinking back the moisture that had been drawn from her tear ducts, she hardly reacted to a final three stinging blows.
The damp velvet cloth absorbed the few remaining tears of protest with ease. The girl was reassured by the index finger of that feminine scented hand brushed her lips lightly to encourage silence. Speedy obedience was quickly rewarded, when the long index finger flicked against the puffy lips of her sex. She splayed her legs further apart, revealing how she had been left damp with her own secretions as well as the icy residue. A gloved hand brushed across her face. The familiarity of the ensuing moisture, the lacey material and the richness of the perfume drifted over her senses like the mist over a grassy field on a dewy morning. It was this image that made her realize that the feminine presence was that the lady of the chateau.
She would have been embarrassed had she known that MiLady was present before, but now she did not care. The way the fingers of that hand oscillated against and then into her was simply marvellous. Her hindquarters were well elevated as that naughty hand stretched her well rounded backside, causing her to rock slightly on her haunches. She held her position although the settee cushions were further depressed when a body lay down by her side. She lifted her free hand up to brush her hair back, in an unconscious gesture, as the indeterminate form rolled under her. She could feel the soft exhalations of a face directly under her pubic mound. Reaching up, fingers played over her sex, sluicing in and out, one at a time.
This soothing motion made her want to squeeze her thighs together to hold two or three fingers within her. She needed to feel them filling her tightness, until they were glued within her by the sucking vacuum of her cunt. She luxuriated in the tightness and preparedness of her body, wanting one of them to fall on her now and to penetrate her roughly. The combination of these swirling digits added in indescribable ways to the powerful sensations already coursing through her.
"Take me," her mind screamed silently as the soft pad of an exploratory thumb added to her trauma. It traced the rising welts on her backside. She lifted her haunches up as it pressed against the little opening. Like the fingers engaged in the assault on her pussy, it was soon twisting its way into the tight little puckered entry of her behind. She felt them squeezing the membrane that separated her entrances between his finger and thumb. Within her body she could sense the contrasting dryness of her anal bud and the viscosity of the cuntal avenue now jammed full of fingers. All through these perambulations around the intriguing avenues of her chastened rear, she remained obediently still and silent. Was she awaiting further rude penetration by the being who had taken control of her senses? Or was she suppressing her desire to be free under the longed for and marvellous yoke of her submission to her owner and the tantalising games of MiLady?
It mattered not. All that she knew was that she craved more. She arched her back, wanting to be filled by whatever was on offer. She dipped her face and found herself rubbing her cheek against the hard upstanding prominence that he had erected beneath her. Still blindfolded, she was confused by the continued exertions around her nether regions. Bumping her cheek dizzily against the erect protuberance, she realized that it was he who had positioned himself under her. She felt the springy object stiffen against her face and giggled, thinking how she would really like to bounce upon it. Her naughty laughter was swiftly chided with a light spanking on each of the elevated crests of her bottom cheeks, followed by a more painful pinch of her vaginal lips.
"Little one, must we wait forever for you to warm your mouth?" MiLady enquired and a fine lace encased hand drummed on the girl's elevated posterior. "Or do you require further encouragement?"
The knowledge that they were both smiling at her shy, yet seductive, clumsiness, impatiently awaiting the entrancing performance of her mouth, was compensation, offsetting the apparent powerlessness of her position. Gathering that she would soon not only be bound and blinded, but also, of her own volition, gagged, she realised that they had deliberately not retied her freed hand. She giggled soundlessly at this anticipation on their part, but let the free limb wend its treacherously slow way down to his groin. She caressed his chest, tugging at the hairs and then pressed against his stomach. Her fingers delved into his pubic hair, wondering if MiLady would ever shave her Master there for her. Then she clasped the base of his erection, squeezing his balls as her lips spread very, very slowly around the head, teasing him right up to the last moment when she would engulf his entire length down her eager throat. Her hand rested on his groin as her mouth descended, her fingers toying wickedly with his scrotum, rubbing back and forth and pressing the two concealed spheres apart.
Enjoying the privilege of being partially untethered, she sensed his torso shake as he joined in her silent laughter. He could be so unpredictable that she was almost coming to expect the unexpected. She was, therefore, thankful that their mutual lusts had precluded her naughtiness from earning her another spanking. She opened her palm and wrapped it around his sex as her mouth absorbed him. She overlooked the niggling thought that his liberality in letting her stay partially free might just be to enable her to cup his balls. Instead, unselfishly, she applied her lips to the task that was now literally in hand. Her cheeks hollowed with the force of her suction. Her tongue played with the dark head of his fat sex.
She let him slip from her lips and then gobbled him into her receptive, outstretched, collared throat again and again and again. Repeating the action over again, she retreated from the hard erection, before catching its veined circumference in her lips again. It would not be long before he came with a hollow groan. She continued her loving suction, until, with a sudden spurt to the back of her throat, he caught up with her anticipation. She let the salty viscous juice swirl around her mouth before swallowing most of it. Licking her lips, she let a dribble of unconsumed sperm trickle down her chin, showing how she had enjoyed this early libation of his tasty fluids, knowing that reciprocation would not be long delayed.
The gentle agitation of rotating fingers aided and abetted by warm lips, turned this seductive theory into practice. The slow penetration of digits that were already laved with her moisture made her squirm. An accompanying tongue gathered her dewy secretions around MiLady's lips and into the palm of her hand. They were still as they listened to the gradual acceleration of her breathing. He left his sticky prick within her to suppress the ecstatic noises emanating from her larynx. Simultaneously, the insistent manipulation between her legs encouraged her to new peaks of excitement. MiLady's steady application brought her, with his whispered permission, to a succession of screaming climaxes, that would, but for the turgid organ that still filled her mouth, have brought the servants running.
She did not think that her heartbeat would ever slow, as she lay there breathless. Her tongue hung out of her mouth and lolled in the open vacantly, looking for all the world like that of a thirsty pet. His thirsty pet. MiLady let her hand fall on the pet's shoulder indolently. She tugged gently at the girl's collar and pulled the little one's head a little higher up his thigh. The movement left her well positioned as she began to lick at MiLady's palm and the Master's flaccid prick simultaneously. She tasted herself on their flesh and snickered quietly, remembering the contrasting sensations of the evening - the harshness of the bonds, the gentleness of the welcoming fingers, the eventual heat of cold ice burned into her by the warmth of that most welcome beating and finally the drive to climactic highs that had followed.
"You will remember these charming contrasts and seductive variations next time, perhaps?" he murmured catching onto her thoughts again, as MiLady looked down at the girl fondly. He permitted the pet's head to rest languidly against the top of his thigh. His softening organ rested close to her sperm coated lips. She had a further inkling of the real lesson of their sport as she knelt over him and filled her concupiscent mouth with the salty residue of his liquid desire. The blindfold was pulled off, but the cords were only loosened so as to allow her to lie comfortably as he slid from under her. She was able to turn her head comfortably and look up to see Lord and Lady standing, hand in hand by her side, observing her blink her eyelids somnolently. As the pet drifted into a light slumber, she remembered Voltaire's words. In the last memory of consciousness she, became aware that, with this perversely obscure Mastery, it was not enough to be conquered; she must know how to be seduced.
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