Message-ID: <744eli$9705091458@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: MarArch@ix.netcom.com Subject: The Photo of E Slave - D/s, Bond., cons., M/f The Photo of E-Slave She awakened slowly, drifting up from the blackness, like a water-logged piece of soft wood rising through murky water, until at last it touched the underside of the surface and felt the air. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly drew apart. The ceiling was white above her, a pool of light off to one side cast up onto it from a corner lamp. But it was not moving, as the grogginess in her mind told it should be, and for that she was grateful. So, she was laying down on something soft... probably his bed... and this thought at once flushed her with embarassment and the outer twinges of excitement. How had she gotten here. What had happened. She struggled for a moment until she grasped the beginning of the final sequence of events that had planted itself in her memory before the blackness... His livingroom... the date... they were going out for dinner. She had taken all afternoon preparing... selecting the dress... doing her hair, her make-up... arranging everything "just so"... feeling the butterflies in her stomach, wondering if this would be the night he would attempt to seduce her, and if she would allow him... But before the dinner, the invitation into his apartment, the pleasant smile, that smile that was both gentle and wicked... that always sent a hot shudder through her, as if implying wonders and secret delights she could never hope to understand... They had met casually, found those numerous shared interest, and developed a warm, comfortable closeness over the last few weeks, but always there was in his smile the hint of something much more, something beyond her... at least for the moment. And there had been the dates. The movies, the sojourns to museums, where she never failed to be impressed with his wide ranging knowledge of the arts, history, a thousand varied subjects... always talked of with calm, knowing passion, never indicating any arrogance or superiority. And there had been the kisses as well... the first almost shy, delicate... soft enough to leave a dandilion in tact... and then the first touch of his tongue against her lips, brushing lightly, petting them, coaxing them to open and recieve it. But that had been all. No straying, urgent hands, gropping for her breasts... no fingers trailing into forbidden recesses or testing secret folds of cloth. She had been confused by this. By this point most of the men she had known would have begun to become insistant with her body... treating it as if it somehow belonged to them, was theirs to explore and experiment with however it might suit them. But not him. He was ever the perfect gentleman. Except, she suddenly recalled, that one time... It was on Thursday, two nights ago. They had gone, quite on the spur of the moment, to see a movie together, and there was one scene in which the heroine of the film, a woman not unlike herself, was suddenly assaulted by a man she had been teasing mercilessly. He had pushed her up against a wall, pressing his body against hers and gripping her wrists tightly as she struggled and whimpered. Then his head bent, his lips found hers and she began to yeild... and when he drew her arms down and behind her back, taking both of her wrists in one of his hands, moving to press his cupped palm over the heroines' sex, she had moaned along with the character of the woman on the screen. He had turned sharply and she greeted his now probing gaze, her face beginning to redden. "Well" he had whispered, a bit of amazement in his voice "you like that, do you..." She could feel herself blushing wildly as she turned back to the screen and endured his lingering, probing gaze for a long moment before he too cast his attention back to the film. His kiss that night as he dropped her at her apartment was startling. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he drew her close and his mouth upon hers had a kind of frenzy in it's urgency. His tongue slipped between her lips as if to stab at her soul and she gasped at the sensation, before feeling her body begin to yeild to him. But even as her heat began to rise, he had broken the kiss and gazed at her for one long, penetrating moment, as if to seek for something inside her eyes... and when he smiled, it was as if he had found it, and was finally satisfied. And then it was tonight. The dinner plans, the elegant preparations, the invitation for a relaxing drink before departing.... sitting in his livingroom, he in the large, comfortable chair, across from where she sat on the couch, sipping the delicious concoction he had handed her... and the quiet gazes at one another... the smiles... the wondering if tonight was to be the night... Then, suddenly... the light headedness... the odd tingling in her chest... and the unexplainable weakness. He had placed his drink asside, she had seen him rise and move toward her... and just as she saw him remove the half finished drink from her hand, the lights of the world began to dim around her and she saw the room begin to tip sideways... then blackness. She lay very still, aware of her chest rising and falling in slow, steady, shallow breaths, and the oddly pleasant tingling that seemed to ripple through her. And then she began to realize that the very motion of her ribs as they slowly expaned and contracted was causing the most pleasurable sensations to roll through her chest, as if the rippling tingles washed up and over her breasts, and she realized her nipples were drawn up tight and pinched in arousal. What's happening to me, she wondered, and cast her mind out to survey the messages her nerves were sending to her brain. Her whole body was somehow more alive than it had ever been. Each move, each breath of motion in the air sent new shockwaves of pleasant sensations into her skin, and between her legs there was a growing throb that she knew well... the throb of her clit gathering it's secret urgency, it's hunger. My God, she thought, I'm wet... and even as this realization struck her, the first tiny droplette of her excitement pooled on the edge of her sex and began to trickle down the lip, sending a fresh shudder through her. She flexed to sit up, but instantly felt the tight, soft grip on her wrists, somewhere above her head, and froze, instantly alert now. She pulled. She flexed. Oh my God, she realized, I'm tied up. Tossing her head suddenly she strained to look up and saw her own wrists, captured in the wide, leather bands, each secured with a large, ominous buckle and held together with a small steel clasp. Straining, she pulled them up and saw that the clamp not only held her wrists together but also attached them to a short but thick piece of rope that ran around the center post of the headboard. Even as she twisted to get a better look, she suddenly realized that her legs were also immobilized and she threw her head around to gaze down. Her ankles were held, far apart, also gripped in confining cuffs, but these were secured to the very ends of some kind of metal bar which held them apart until they almost drapped off the sides of the wide bed. She tried to raise her knees and saw that the bar was itself held in place by ropes that trailed off it and down out of sight over the foot of the bed. And it was only then that the realization sank in that she was, in fact, naked. A blind panic began to well up inside her and she pulled against the bonds, testing them, and quickly realizing that they were much to sturdy for her to ever think of loosening them. She was gasping and whimpering and the sound was welling up, threatening to erupt into a terrified scream when suddenly she heard the click of the door opening and she froze, raising her head to look across the room to where she saw it swing open... and he was standing there, in the doorway. He was wearing a fluffy, white bathrobe, and in his hand he casually held a large hardcover book, his finger jammed into it's pages to mark a place, and he looked very much like a parent come to quiet an unruly child who had disturbed his literary reverie. But instead she saw that wicked smile slowly play out over his lips as he moved gracefully into the room and stepped up to the side of the bed on which she lay, captured. She wanted to erupt in a thousand questions, a thousand, thousand indignations, but before she could form any of them into words he was smiling down at her, his lips pursed, quietly shushing her. "It's all right, love" he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Nothing bad has happened nor will happen, I promise you." She thrashed weakly for a further moment, then let her body relax back as she looked up at him... "What are you doing to me?" she gasped, the panic putting a jagged edge on her voice. His smile broadened and his eyes lit up with gentle excitement. "Excatly what you want, my love. What you've always wanted, though you may not even have known it yourself... but your body did. Your body has always known what it's wanted... and what you've never given it..." "And what's that" she hissed, the terror slowly changing into confusion and wonder under his gentle gaze. "I'll show you... Tonight, I'm going to show you.... everything." A shudder ran through her, like the ripples on a calm pool of water, and seemed to lap against her sex, sending a tingle up her stomach as she kept her eyes locked on him, watching him move slowly away from the bed to the dresser where he opened the top drawer and extracted some small object which made a light clinking noise. He turned, the object gripped in his closed fist and moved back to the side of the bed, his lips playing up in a wide smile. He held up his fist and slowly turned it upside down, allowing the fingers to open. One end of a long, thin chain slipped from his grasp and dropped about two feet, pulled up short by it's other end still held between his fingers. Her eyes scanned down the chain, half fascinated, half horrified, until they fell upon the small clamp that dangled at it's end. Nipple clamps, she instantly realized and instantly felt her sex contract involuntarily, sending yet another shudder through her, increasing her wetness. He bent over her slowly, taking the ends of the chain in both hands and leaned over her. She could feel his increasing closeness and found herself pressing back into the mattress, a whining moan escaping from her throat as she closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. Suddenly she felt her chin gripped by strong fingers, her head turned sharpy, causing her eyes to flash open, only to be instantly rivetted on his own, close to her face. "Oh no, my love" he said quietly, his voice low and commanding. "I did not give you permission to turn away. I want you to watch what happens to your body. I want you to feel it with your flesh and your eyes." She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and as if some small switch deep within her had suddenly been tripped, she felt the fear ebb away, perhaps drawn out of her through those commanding brown eyes of his, perhaps simply smothered under his strong gaze. But whatever the cause, she felt herself beginning to relax... to accept whatever was now about to occur. He gazed at her for a long moment, as if confirming her obedience to his demand, then slowly leaned up once more, and took the clamps, one in each hand, positioning them between his fingers. He leaned down, his arms extending, until the tips of the clamps were extended a mere fraction of an inch over each of her nipples. She looked down at the spectical and a jolt of excitement welled through her, made more fascinating by the fact that she could see her nipples begin to draw upwards, tightening, reddening, and beginning to tingle, as if her body was responding against her will. She stared, awe-struck, as he lowered the tips of the clamps until they touched the very tip of each of her nipples and slowly begin to brush them back and forth over the tight, sensitive flesh... She lay back and a loud moan escaped her, as the tingling, tickling pinpoints radiated outwards, through her chest, rolling down her stomach and mixing with the now steady throbbing of her as yet untouched clit. She began to slowly grind her hips against the mattress, helplessly attempting to stimulate herself, only to feel the first drops of her moisture work their way to the edge of her nether lips and begin to trickle down toward the bed beneath her. She lifted her head slightly and stared down at her enflamed nipples, just as his fingers squeezed the clamps, opening them, sliding them down on either side of the tender tissues and slowly releasing them. A sharp sensation, half pain, half mere sensory overload roared from her captured nipples and she dropped her head back, uttering a deep, gutteral cry of surprise and surrender. The clamps continued to tighten, the waves of feeling rolling from her breasts and coursing out through every part of her body, down to her fingertips which trembled, helplessly at the end of her captured hands. He straightened up to survey his work and watched her body now grinding slowly, dreamily, on the bed, as if attempting to spread the unfamiliar sensation evenly to all parts of her. He smiled to himself and gentle reached down to hook a pinky under the chain which now lay, drapped, on her chest. Raising his hand, he pulled until the chain was tented above her over his little finger, it's ends planted on her nipples... and then he gently pulled upwards. Her breasts pulled upwards, the nipples beginning to stretch, and he saw her shudder and moan beneath this new delicious torment. She was whimpering now... her mind slowly being overwhelmed by each new wave of sensation as it washed over her. He was always amazed at how sensitive just a little amount of the drug could make someone... perfectly harmless concoction, with no other side effects, except to make the flesh a veritable sounding board for every tactile stimulation that contacted it. She squeezed her eyes as tightly as she could, her body held rigid now, pressing down, even as her nipples were pulled upward, sending wave after wave of feeling through her. Between her legs her sex was weeping furiously, it's fluids virtually flowing from her and beginning to pool beneath her on the rumpled sheets. Oh God, she thought, Oh God, Oh God.... And then she felt something brush her throbbing clit and she jerked her head up, her eyes flashing open, desparate to locate the source of this new torment. He was there, leaning over her, his face a mere few inches from her welling, pinnioned sex... and he was gently blowing on it, his hot breath cooling even as it flowed across her exposed and raw clit. She dropped her head back with a sob of confusion and a moment later, felt the tensions gathering, drawn together into that gale of his breath against her helplessness.... and suddenly it exploded in a blinding, drowning orgasm that seared into her belly like an impaling lance of white hot metal, splitting her in two. She shuddered under it's power and her moan swelled like the cry of some dying animal... then it began to ebb. But before she could drift down from it's heights, gather her thoughts and become human once more, she felt her head lifted and something quickly slipped over her face.... a blindfold... tight and softly lined with fleece. A sudden panic gripped her and she wanted to cry out for him to stop, that she wanted to see, wanted to watch what was happening, but she could find no voice, only a whining moan of disappointment at this new and strange confinement of her most active sense. She tried to calm herself and focus, get back some control over herself, but even as she managed to fight back the still ever- present sensitivity of her every inch of skin, she became vaguely aware that her ankle was being moved... freed.... the cuff which held it to the bar between her pinnioned legs removed, and she allowed herself a moment of relief that it was now over... this strange, delicious torment... ending before she perhaps grew too fond of it... But before she could react, she felt something slipped quickly over her foot and tightened around her ankle where the cuff had been.... it felt like rope. "Ooohhhhhh nooooooo" she moaned quietly, unable to bring herself to kick out against this new assault, and then, with a startling swiftness, she felt his hand scoop under her ankle and lift it, sharply, pulling her leg upwards, causing her body to twist slightly, lifting her buttocks off the mattress as her ankle was now held almost to the level of her shoulders. My God, she thought desparately, what is he doing? A moment later she had her answer as she felt his hand removed from her, and the tight grip of the rope on her ankle bearing all the stress... He had tied her ankle to the headboard above her. A new confusion battered into her mind as this wholely unfamilar position asserted itself on her now half-suspended body. What is he doing to me? her mind screamed, and could find no answers. Then the other leg was suddenly gripped, lifted, freed from the cuff, yet held up and the rope slipped over it. Then it too was lifted and now her body was bowed up, bent nearly double, her lower limbs splayed wide and lewdly open, her sex stretched and exposed, her back curving up off the bed. She had supposed she had been helpless before, but this new position drove home her utter captivity in a way she would never have imagined possible. She was less than a side of meat, strung up and bound down at the same time, her every private, secret place open and exposed and defenseless. And this thought again caused her sex to clench deep inside her and sent yet more waves of delicious sensations rolling through her, bathing her is exquisit stimulation the like of which she had never felt before. Oh God, the last remaining part of her conscience mind managed to piece out, what else can happen to me.... She did not have long to wait. For she quickly felt something lightly brush the now fully exposed and slightly parted lips of her sex... something hard and smooth and quite large.... She gasped at the first contact and instinctively raised her head to look, before remembering the blindfold and allowing her head to fall back, limply, utterly defeated. Whatever happened now was totally unpreventable, and she felt like she was merely the senseless object of sacrifice in some erotic ritual... that her worth as a human being was not important in the least... that her only value at this moment was as flesh that would respond as it was commanded to... and she knew she would respond... she would surrender... she would sacrifice herself to whatever sensations were imposed upon her... drawn from her.... forced through her.... and she would have no choice.... Then she felt the pressure against her sex, the lips being separated by whatever this invading object was, and she felt herself begin to become impaled upon it, could feel it sliding into her, filling her, splitting her with it's size and stimulating every inner surface of her sex. As if in self-defence, her sex welled with new waves of fluids, coating the object with slickness, welcoming it. It rolled steadily forward until she felt it brush bottom against the cap of her cervix, drawing an involuntary spasm of her inner muscles which gripped it, testing it's girth and finding it monstrous. In a flash, it began to shudder inside her... vibrating wildly, madly, tickling her inner recesses. She cried out at this new assault and in moments, her tension erupted in yet another orgasm which gushed through her, causing her to thrash wildly, straining against the ropes that held her captive. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before... a total, gripping, overwhelming, commanding, blazing sensation that rocketed from her sex to the very ends of the individual hairs on her head. She was sobbing now, a low, tense keening sound of utter surrender bubbling from her animal throat as the ripples of cumming dashed against her every part and rolled away again... the shuddering monster deep in her sex never quite letting them die away completely before teasing the up again. Then she felt the final assault... the pressure against her tiny, tight, virginal asshole.... Oh God, noooooooooo... she screamed somewhere inside herself, even as this new invader bore down and caused the ring of muscles to widen, accepting it's tip... then it too found passage and was sliding deep into her, it's thin shaft even more invasive than the thick monster inside her sex, for it traveled a path unvisited before this moment. Nerves which has never been touched before sprang to attention, screaming out in flashes, as her nether passage was slowly filled. And just as she thought she could stand no more, the object stopped and then erupted in an explosing of vibrations deep in her bowels. She screamed. It was as if her soul was being hammered, nailed down by these filling, impaling objects and instead of pain, each instant sent new floods of pure sensation rolling through her. Her mind reeled wildly, and she could feel the tips of the two objects, deep within her, pressing on either side of that thin wall of flesh that separated their actually touching. In another moment, she burst with an orgasm that was beyond comprehending, her body now converted to a throbbing, pulsing mass of nerve-ending under an endless assault... and she felt herself beginning to drift... as if her mind had finally released it's grip on her and was retreating to some fleshless place, leaving only this writhing, helpless mass of her body to endure these unending, exquisit torments... and as the cumming began to ebb, another washed over her... the waves of cumming beginning to roll like breakers on a beach, a new one crashing ashore even as the one before flowed out... and she was lost on this endless ocean of her own pleasure... her body now his... his property... his object... his slave... She never even heard the clicking of the shutter as he stood, across the room, capturing her image. 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