Fear

Always the center of attention. Always the class clown. She never realized in her youth that it would come back to bite her in the ass, literally and figuratively. She yelped, again, as her Master's hand slid down over the smooth curve of her ass to pinch her warm skin. Blushing she pressed her face into his chest, hearing his deep laugh as the conversation flowed around her. Discussions of proper flogging technique, the latest movie someone had seen and teasing banter with an older member of the local kink community whispered across her ears. She smiled to herself, knowing from the relaxed posture of her Master that he really was enjoying himself. However, she knew he was as her, waiting for the moment to strike awe into the kinky group.

They had talked of the party on and off for weeks. Knowing she was moving to be with her Master she wanted to have one last play party with her friends, sharing the pleasure of pain with them before she removed herself from their world for another. Her Master had been more than pleased when she suggested he join her for the party. They knew that what they shared would be something for the group to remember, something for them to think about. The love and devotion she shared with her Master was very real and they both felt compelled to share it with the world, to show how deeply a Master could love his slave, and a slave could love her Master.

They had teased one another for the weeks prior to this night about what he would do. How he would create the mood. How their subtle play would mesmerize her friends and draw a crowd. Even now as they sat in the casual area, his arm looped around her waist, her cheek to his shoulder, she could feel the eyes of her friends on them, scrutinizing cautiously. To others, they seemed like an everyday couple, however between the slave and her Master there was an unspoken undercurrent of passion and love that was hard to miss.

She felt his breath on her hair, his mouth warm against her ear. "Are you ready, slave?" She trembled, her breath caught in her suddenly parched throat. She was not nervous, she was excited. She had waited the entirety of her adult life for this moment, the moment she would reveal herself as the natural slave she was.

"Yes Master," she whispered, pressing her lips to his in a kiss full of unspoken love. A stolen moment shared between the two peaked the interest of those watching them. Smiling shyly she waited for her Master to rise, lifting from the chair to stand at his side, taking his hand in hers and dusting the pad of her thumb across his lean fingers. His satisfied smile teased her lips into a matching, knowing grin.

Following his lead they slipped past the drapes hung across the entrance to the hall. The lights, dimmed to enhance the feel of the makeshift dungeon, illuminated the various furniture scattered around the edge of the room. Another couple was already involved in a spanking scene, the girl whimpering as her dominant's hand fell across her creamy ass. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the slave with desire, pressing herself closer to her Master as they walked towards the St. Andrew's cross.

When they arrived her Master had surveyed the setup of the hall, deciding that the cross would best suit their play for the night. Staring at the threatening leather padding and d-ring loops the girl shivered anxiously, hot fire filling her in an instant. Licking her lips she glanced up to her Master, who only nodded his head in consent. In a brief moment she was naked, peeling the straps of her dress down over her honey skin. Teasingly her eyes found his as she stripped in front of him, revealing each inch of her flesh to him as if it was the first time he saw it.

Shaking her tawny mane she rolled her hips, the alluring azure fabric of her dress pooling around her feet. One garment gone, one naked slave. She bent at the waist, picking it up and folding it neatly, setting it on a chair next to the cross. Standing before her Master she offered him her most sensual smile, her carmine lips teased into a pouty smirk. Watching as he took the mental image of her in the dim light, her dark nipples taut and aching for his touch, the curves of her breasts and hips, the swollen lips of her pussy already wet and wanting.

Walking towards her he forced her backwards. She felt him slowly begin to work his magic on her, knowing instinctly to take the steps back to the cross. Feeling his hands lightly stroke across her belly and hips, his eyes never leaving hers. Staring up at him wordlessly she trembled, her stormy green eyes captured and held in his intent, calming stare. Sighing inwardly she raised her arms upwards, waiting for what was to come.

Leather wrist cuffs circled her flesh, attached in one swift motion to the rings of the cross. Shutting her eyes tight as she began to sink into herself she vaguely felt the tender touch of her Master as he circled her ankles with soft leather, again the sound of metal on metal touching her ears. Sucking in a sharp breath as she stood, prone spread eagle, her pussy glistening in the soft light. Moaning at the sexy appeal of her Master as he loosened his tie and tossed it on her dress, unbuttoning the top couple buttons of his shirt. She longed to be able to reach out and curl her fingers in the coarse chest hair nestled against the hollow of his throat.

"You look beautiful, Mine," he whispered softly, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. Curling his long fingers against the soft flesh of her cheek he felt her head tilt to his touch. Her hair fell about her shoulders, gracing the column of her throat. He looked there, achingly, for a moment, waiting for the day he would place his collar around her throat and she would be bound to him completely. She whimpered acknowledgement of his compliment, pressing a wet kiss against the palm of his hand.

She sighed to herself, resting back against the cross, feeling the padded leather cool to the touch. She stifled a moan as she watched her Master pull his camera from his pocket, flicking it on. Holding back a frown which tugged at the corners of her lips she tilted her head to the side, feeling her hair fall down across her shoulder. The flash was bright in the dim light, making her wince and blink rapidly to adjust. Hanging her head she saw the flash again through the fallen tresses of her chestnut hair. Another flash moments later when she shifted restlessly on her feet, causing her breasts to thrust out sensually.

"For prosperity," he announced as he chuckled to himself, setting his camera down with their clothes. She held in an expletive, knowing how much he delighted in teasing her. Looking past his shoulder she saw one or two of her friends stray in their direction, obviously intent on watching what was about to unfold. She smiled, fairly beaming, nodding once to her Master before shifting to a comfortable balance.

She felt him step up to her, his hand reaching out to curl around her neck. The pressure made her whimper, sending her tumbling in an instant to the world where nothing mattered but pleasing him, of showing him how deeply she loved and trusted him. Of what she would endure to prove her love. His grip tightened more, his face coming close to hers, his breath fanning across her rosy lips. "You are mine. I love you, slave." The comment, now an everyday occurrence, still sent shivers up her spine.

"I love you Master," she whispered back, moaning against his mouth as it crushed hers. His hands were suddenly everywhere, stroking and petting her flushed skin. His fingers cruelly twisted and tugged her nipples, pulling her breasts upwards and letting them bounce gently back down. His nails raked down her sides and over her hips, drawing pink welts in their wake. Sliding his fingers between her legs he moaned as he felt how wet she was, loving the knowledge that she was always ready for him, always wanting him. Stroking her clit he watched her shake, biting the soft flesh of her lip to mask a soft moan. Pressing his finger inside her he worked it in and out, knowing from her breathy whimper how much pleasure she felt.

He lifted his hand from her pussy to her lips, pushing his finger roughly into her mouth. Her tongue, wet and hurried, lashed against his finger. He moaned his approval, smearing the remaining wetness across her blushing cheek. Gripping her hair he tugged her head backwards, stepping against her, pinning her against the cross. Kissing her long and hard while he rubbed his cock against her thighs, letting her know what was in store for her later that evening in the privacy of their hotel room.

She moaned achingly against his lips, wanting and needing him more in that instant than she ever had before. Sighing as he drew away once more she tugged on her wrist restraints, testing them for security. Shyly she looked up, seeing another friend had joined the group watching her and her Master. She closed her eyes tight as she saw her Master reach down to pick up a leather flogger, his hands fondly caressing the soft falls.

She had always hated the first hit, she never knew how hard it would be or where it would be. That was, until she met him. She knew him better than anyone else in her life and knew exactly what he was about to do to her. She knew where she would hurt the most, because she had told him where it hurt the most. She knew what toys he would use to hurt her, because she had lovingly picked them out for him. She knew his strikes, his gentle lashes, his vicious slices. She knew him better than the back of her hand.

It was no surprise to her that the first fall was hard and aimed directly at her pussy. Jerking slightly she felt the cross rock behind her, biting down on her lip. The next lash was across her breasts, causing her skin to prickle with sensation. Again on her pussy, then her thighs, then her stomach, then her breasts again. Each fall was rhythmic and timed, always keeping her focused. She watched him as long as she could, watched him finger the falls, only closing her eyes to brace herself against the next lash. Moments turned into minutes as he slowly warmed her up, turning her honey flesh a soft, tender pink color. The sound of leather slapping flesh filled the hall, drawing more attention to them.

"More," she whispered softly, looking to him with wide, pleading eyes. He knew, as well as she did, that there was more to come but both of them knew how to draw in a crowd. He smiled to her, the smile that had long before filled her dreams. The smile when he knew she was giving him what he wanted, the ability to be center stage.

"So demanding," he chided softly before she felt a strong, hard whack against her pussy again. Whimpering she blushed, hating whenever he turned their shared, loving jokes back on her. Each lash was harder and quicker than the last, building up to an almost continuous assault, rocking her small body against the frame of the cross. She cried out softly, her fingers gripping the soft leather encasing her wrists, her teeth sinking into the softness of her trembling lip. It continued for only brief moments but to her it felt like eternity. Each thump a hundred years span of pain and devotion mingling in her mind.

Finally there was silence and the soft touch of her Master. His fingers drifted lazily across warm flesh, nails tickling her sensitive skin. Lifting her head she found his eyes, letting him know she was lost but safe with him. Speaking to him without words, professing her trust and devotion to him in that moment. He kissed her softly then stepped backwards, content in the knowledge that she would give all of herself to her last breath if she knew it would please him.

Reaching for a hard rubber flogger he slapped the falls lightly against his leg, watching her eyes go wide. She knew the flogger had bite and would likely welt her pink skin from the first strike. Whimpering low in her throat she closed her eyes and waited for the thump to rock her again, bracing herself for the sensation of a thousand bricks tossing her backwards against the cross.

She did not wait long. He could hardly contain his desire to push her as he let the flogger fly. Sweeping it upwards he caught her square against her dripping slit, watching her jerk and her head toss from side to side. Her responses always amazed him. He knew she felt pain, that she needed to feel the pain, yet she took it with an silent grace that, at times, had surprised him. She made it easy to hurt her. She told him how to hurt her, where to hit, how hard to hit. She had willingly given him the knowledge and power to torture her, knowing he would use it well and he loved her deeply for it.

The thick rubber falls raked her body, clawing mercilessly. The hard tips caught her again and again, raising thick welts on her breasts and thighs. Once a fall lashed her nipple, raking it with violent determination, making her mew in newfound pain. She watched him, her eyes never leaving him but for the brief seconds as the rubber rocked her back against the cross. The strain on her arms made her shoulders ache, her hips shifting to ease the building pressure from jerking roughly with each hit.

Again, he switched from the calm, continuous tempo to the hurried, frenzied assault. The lashes jolted her back against the padding, shaking her from head to toe. Tears welled up against the corners of her eyes, blinking them away as she arched her breasts outwards. He loved that she would push herself to feel more pain, always wanting to meet each lash with the strength she had yet to discover within herself. The slapping sound of the rubber on her skin muffled the music playing overhead and sounds of others playing around them. The crowd watching had grown in number again, more people sensing something intimate and powerful building in the corner.

He paused, waiting patiently for her to respond, knowing she would. Lifting her eyes she smiled weakly, red streaks marring the front of her body, struggling to hide the tremors searing her flesh.

"More," she murmured, a pink tongue flicking outwards across her sweet lips. He sighed to himself, loving her more in that moment than he ever dreamed he could. Smiling to her he bent down, lifting something free of the toy bag that she had not seen before. Her face paled. She knew, in that second what he had been planning all along. This wasn't a show for others; it was a test for her. The silver chain and menacing clover clamps gleamed in the dull light of the hall, casting spots of light across her rosy skin.

"Ask and receive, my love," he purred silkily as he walked forward. She looked to him with wild, fearful eyes, shaking her head no even while her eyes pleaded yes. She winced as his fingers tugged at her nipples, making them ache before he even fastened the clamps to them. Shuddering and sucking in a sharp breath as she felt the rubber tips bite the sensitive crests she mewed softly in her throat, her lip quivering, blinking away tears.

She felt him tug at the chain, her body shaking violently in response. He knew, more than most people, that the clamps were her only weakness. For all the pain she could have inflicted on her, the clamps, for some strange reason, could cause her mind to tumble and spin, cause her to lose her focus. She tried to breathe through the pain, whimpering low in her throat, a single tear falling down her cheek. Lifting his hand to cup her cheek he leaned forward, kissing her deeply, breathing life and strength into her. Willing her heart to continue beating, her body not to cave to the simple pain of the clamps she rested back against the cross once again.

"I'm not done yet, slave," he murmured with another tug. Groaning she watched him reach into the bag again, this time withdrawing a piece of black silk. Gnashing her lower lip with even teeth she shook as he reached behind her head, stroking the nape of her neck for a few moments, tenderly reassuring her. Sliding the wisp of cloth across the bridge of her nose he looped it around the crown of her head and tied it in a simple knot.

"I love you Master," she spoke softly. She heard his sigh, felt it deep within the pit of her belly, burning hotly. She waited, anxiously, hearing him step back and the bag shift as he rifled through it.

"I love you, slave," was his response, followed with the decisive swish of the cane and the crack of it on her thighs. She jerked viciously, crying out as the movement made the clamps on her nipples tighten further. Balling her fists against the restraints binding her to the padded cross she sucked in a sharp breath, her breasts heaving from her labored breathing. Minutes passed in the deepest sense of torture as she waited for the next lash. She struggled to keep her focus, knowing her Master was toying with her.

She was different from other submissives. He knew it as well as she did. He knew that she required her senses, required focus to survive the pain he inflicted. The loss of her vision meant she could not know when he would strike, building the trust between them. She was lost in thoughts of how deeply she trusted him when she heard a sudden swish and felt the bamboo cane slice the outside of her right thigh. Barely a second later another swish and the cane bit cruelly into her left thigh. Biting down on a scream of fear and pain she pressed into the cross, drawing away.

"Do not pull away, slave," was his harsh response as she suddenly felt the clamps pulled from her breasts. Crying out in misery she felt the blood flow back into the aching tips, cringing and writhing in agony. She twisted against the bonds holding her to the wooden beams, trying her best to fight the rising tide of pain consuming her as she struggled to arch her body in offering to him once more.

"That's better," he purred softly to her as she felt the cane lovingly dance across her belly and breasts, teasing her sensitive skin. Light taps against her swollen nipples tore a moan from her lips, shaking the wavy mass of her hair from her face. Tilting her head back to the cross she waited once more for the pain. Time seemed to flow into eternity in an instant, her breathing muffling the sounds of torture now filling the room.

The cane slashed down across her nipples with unholy intent, ripping her apart from the inside. She jerked and released a heart wrenching scream which was muffled against her Master's lips as he stepped in to kiss her, his hands stroking her belly, feeling her quiver. His smell assaulted her, using it to focus as she kissed him back almost desperately, fearing she would lose herself in the pain and never be able to find him again.

"Breathe," he demanded quietly, his fingers stroking the rising welts on the dusky peaks of her breasts. She hadn't realized she had stopped until he mentioned it, drawing in a shaky breath. His hand lowered between the valley of her breasts, his knuckles grazing the soft swells of her body, feeling her heart racing. He loved the power he had over her, the control. Forcing her to the point of surrender that she no longer could breathe without his consent was glorifying to him, satisfying. He would take everything from her and she would love him for it.

"More, Master," she pleaded through the mask of black silk. He moaned softly, tugging her nipple roughly, feeling her body tremble and quake in response.

"More what, slave?" He asked coolly, already reaching to the loop of his pants to remove the clamps dangling against his hip.

"Love me more Master, please," she pleaded softly. He could tell from the timid tone of her voice that she was terrified, yet she still pushed herself to please him. God, how he loved her. In an instant the clamps were fastened to her nipples, making her shriek in misery.

She struggled not to shrink away from him, trying to hold her chin up and her body taut as the pressure of the clamps gripped her. She tumbled into an unknown world, fading in and out of conscious thought as he lashed her body with the cane. Alternating between having the clamps on and off, never striking her with any rhyme or reason. All she could do was trust him as her screams filled the hall. All she could do was love him.

Now and then she heard a spectator whisper, somewhere between the pain and the love. Somewhere in the darkness she could hear her Master's breathing become more labored, feel him draw close to remove or reapply the clamps. She was lost in the pitch black of her mind, unable to focus, trusting in him with all her heart. She had told him a million times in a million different ways what her fear was and he was doing everything he could to make her face it, guiding her towards it with the pain he lovingly inflicted.

She tried to count the strikes of the cane, tried to count his footsteps, tried to count to one hundred. Nothing worked. Deprived of her ability to sense the oncoming pain she was helpless. Exactly what she had always feared. Helpless. The word played with her mind, causing her to sob in misery, suddenly sagging against the restraints pinning her against the warm leather of the cross.

In an instant he was at her side, lifting her chin, pulling the cloth from her eyes. Tears flowed freely across her cheeks, falling in rivulets down over her chin, pearling on the smooth flesh of her breasts.

"Look at me," he whispered softly, his thumbs brushing the tortured tears streaming down her face.

"I can't," she sobbed back, shaking her head, fearing he would see the shame hidden in the depths of her stormy eyes. She could not let him see the pain she felt, could not let him see her weakness. She was lost in the darkness of her fear, shaking against him. She heard his soft sigh, felt his breath fan across the column of her throat as he leaned down, kissing her temple tenderly.

"You can, and you will." His whispered demand did not fall on deaf ears. She struggled within herself to find the strength to lift her gaze, meeting the deep chocolate eyes she had spent nights dreaming of. The softness, the love gazing back at her caused her breath to catch in her throat. Mewing pleadingly her cheeks blushed shamefully, knowing he could sense her fear. She waited breathlessly for him to speak, to say they were done, to take her in his arms and kiss it better.

"I love you, so much. You have nothing to be afraid of. I will still love you just as much tomorrow, and the day after that. Give in to it, my slave. Do not be afraid of it."

He knew, without her needing to speak the words, that she was facing her demons in a losing battle. He had spent hours watching her struggle with herself, watching her blink back angry or hurt tears, watching her hide behind her insecurities with playful banter and wit. She was the one that had taught him not to hide and now it was his turn to return the favor.

"It hurts, Master," she whimpered softly, "more than anything you could do to me. I am not helpless." She trembled, resting her forehead on his shoulder, feeling his heart racing. In that instance she revealed to him her darkest fear, praying her would not turn it against her. His hand lifted then, circling her throat, squeezing gently. Whimpering she closed her eyes tight, hearing his softly spoken words.

"You are helpless. You feel pain. But it is because that is what I want you to feel. Give in to it, show me how strong you are by accepting it. Be strong by giving me this, my love. Give me your fear." His words, barely a whisper, coursed through her, filling her with calm. She drew in a shaky breath and pulled away from him, her eyes cautiously lifting to find his. She knew what he was asking of her. Asking her to feel the one thing she feared most. Asking her to prove her love by accepting her fears, by combating them and allowing him to take them from her, to make her whole.

Pressing trembling lips to his she lifted, hissing as the chain dangling between her breasts caught on his shirt, tugging on her bruised nipples. Whimpering low in her throat she willed her body to remain upright, every part of her aching from the strain. He knew she felt a surreal amount of pain, her body littered with welts. Every breath she whimpered, the silver chain dancing across her body. He waited, watching cautiously, not daring to push her further than she could go.

"More, Master, love me more," she pleaded through tear kissed lips. He searched her face, seeing the fire burning in her eyes. He nodded and slid the blindfold back over her eyes, taking a step back. She heard muffled whispers from those nearby. Feeling them feed off the energy radiating between her and her Master. She focused on that energy, the sweet hues of blue, colors swirling in the darkness of her mind.

The sudden force of the cane caught her by surprise. She knew he would no longer hold back, no longer give her the moments to catch her breath. He would push her and she would rise or fall, there was no other way.

"What are you?" He asked sharply, using the tip of the cane to flick one of her tender nipples.

"Helpless, Master," she moaned, blinking away the tears that came with the realization. She had placed herself at his mercy, bound to the cross. Another strike of the cane caused the blue hues to swirl and dance, making her smile as they rippled through her conscious.

"What do you feel?" Another strike. She felt a trickle of blood fall across her thigh.

"Pain, Master," she whimpered, her tongue flicking out to dance across her carmine lips. She faded into the hues, carried on the current of dancing light.

"What are you?" The cane caught her inner thigh, making her shriek. Gripping the leather cuffs she arched towards her Master, feeding off him, watching the blue wisps float through her mind towards him.

"Helpless, Master," she purred, rising in the waves of blue, floating. Her voice, hoarse from her screams, played on his ears like a sweet lullaby. Two quick strikes sent her body rolling back against the cross.

"What do you feel?" Another lash, another scream. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, dripping from her chin to fall on the welts covering her body. Salt mingled with tortured flesh, making her wince with newfound pain.

"Pain, Master," she moaned, sweat beading her body. The magic of the blue hues beckoned to him, curling like fingers to draw him close. The color melded into clouds of beauty in her mind, calming her, allowing her to rise above her fears, allowing her to give to him every piece of her heart and soul.

The next lash sent the blue hues spiraling. Lazily they danced across her mind, enveloping her very being. Giving in she screamed, deeply, leaving little doubt in the mind of those watching that she was in an unspeakable amount of pain.

"What are you?" His voice, soft, silken, claimed her. She knew in that instant that she was his, having finally given him her fears.

"Your slave. Your beautiful, wonderful slave." She could see his smile through the silk masking her eyes. She could feel it encircle her heart, feel it in the depths of her belly. The blue light began to fade, slowly.

His final blow would have brought her to her knees had she not been securely fastened to the cross. She gave in, admitting to herself that she felt the pain with all of her heart. The blue wisps faded from her mind as she heard him draw close. The black silk was drawn from her eyes, light filtering in through the haze. His hand reached up to stroke her cheek, his brown eyes dark with unspoken desire and love. Dipping his head to kiss her he moaned achingly against her lips, taking the last of her strength with a softly whispered question.

"What do you feel?"

Her response could not have been more perfect.

Standing in the dim light of the hall, covered in vicious welts, bound, lips trembling in eloquent beauty, aching and in pain she whispered, "Love."