The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Of Cabbages And Kings

Part 1

Caveats

If you are under the age of consent in your locality, or sexual activity of a graphic and sometimes violent nature offends you, then stop reading, for goodness sake!

This story is fiction, although some of the events really did happen. Don’t try this at home or anywhere else outside of your imagination.

Acknowledgement

This story would have remained unwritten without the encouragement of the gentleman known as ‘The Sinner’. I appreciate his candor, his advice, and giving me the kick in the pants to put this to ASCII.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes- and ships- and sealing-wax-
Of cabbages- and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings.”
“The Walrus and The Carpenter” by Lewis Carroll

Tuesday Night

She’s naked as she moves from the dark room to the spotlight in the center. She kneels, touches her head to the floor, and then begins her work. She moves quickly, efficiently, for she has done this so many times before. She attaches a short chain to the three foot spreader bar and the bolt in the floor. She pulls the wrist cuffs on their ropes closer to her. The little box with the big button is placed near the floor bolt.

She spreads her legs as wide as she can and locks the spreader bar to her ankles. She has no key. She attaches a cuff to her wrist and locks it. She reaches down and picks up the posture collar and locks it around her throat. She can’t look down without bending. She attaches the remaining cuff and locks it. She then steps down on the box with the button. Weights are released and she is pulled into position, her weight borne by her wrist cuffs as she is lifted off the floor. She slowly twists, unable to see because bright lights shine in her eyes from all directions.

Suddenly the brightness is blocked by a figure rimmed in light.

“Master”, she whispers in awe, unable to lower her eyes as she must.

“What is your name?” The voice is deep, powerful, commanding instant obedience.

“Slave, Master”

“Why are you here, slave?”

“To obey Master. To reflect Your Light as Your slave. Slave is eager to bind herself and learn to serve Master.”

“How have you failed to serve Me?” She shivers for the first time. “This, this morning, Master, when slave was receiving Master’s Gift, she... slave allowed a drop to land on the floor. It was an accid—”

She feels a sting to her ass. “It was a sin and must, must be p-punished.”

“How, slave?”

She hears the swish of the whip and feels a sting on her belly. She struggles against her restraints, causing her to turn in circles slowly. She feels a sting to her breast. She is disgracing herself by not obeying Master. The other breast feels the lash. He will withhold His Light if she continues. She must obey or be in darkness. “Master must teach slave to serve without fail. The whip purifies the slave to serve. Please purify your slave, Master.”

The whip strands whistle as they fly to their target. Her ass, upper legs, and back are soon striped in red. She hears His footsteps as He walks around her. She gasps as her belly is struck, then her breasts. A moment’s respite before the little whip is again used, as Master demonstrates His ability, by snapping the tip of the whip against her long nipples. She screams in pain, knowing it will get worse. She feels His fingers in her pussy, the need to come exploding into her body. Master can bring her incredible pleasure and pain at His whim. She knows what she needs for relief...

“Master”, she moans, “Please... p-p-punish... need... slave needs Master to... to...”

Master laughs, a cold, cruel laugh. He withdraws His fingers from her swollen lips. He sees her hips buck as she tries to refill her sopping pussy. He sends the oiled strands speeding to her exposed clit and labia after a slow windup.

She’s starting to whimper her thanks when the strands find their target.

She screams...

...And sat bolt upright in her bed. She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. The dreams were back. The memories of her training as Master’s slave. She no longer remembered or dreamed about how he changed her from being his girlfriend to being his slave. She only remembered the endless training sessions, how her will was broken, how she learned to obey and endure to receive the sex she needed, the fuckings He taught her to crave, so that He could even more deeply own and control her.

But He was gone, now. Master was in prison, far away and for a long time. It had been a long time since she had the dreams. But they were back. The only reason she could think of was Paul. Paul had been persistent in getting to be friends. He was kind, gentle, had a great sense of humor. They had talked for hours on so many things. So many things except this part of her past.

They were going to the coast for a long four-day weekend. Paul had suggested going to a Bed-and-Breakfast. They had gone over the brochures and finally she had found one that had been everything she could have asked for. The B-and-B had some separate cabins and Paul had been able to get the one closest to the cliffs. That it was further from the others would give them some extra privacy she felt she needed. She had been nervous about their first vacation date being on a remote coast for so long. She hadn’t spent the night with anyone since she had been Master’s.

She was sure she was falling for Paul, as he was for her. She would make love to him this weekend, she knew. She wanted to, so very badly. Not to fuck or suck at Master’s whim, fear of his whip making her the eager orgy fuck slave Master brought naked and collared to parties because it amused him to use her so. No, to make love because she wanted to.

She shivered again, the terror of the last moments as the whip would flay her labia and clit, the pain intense. She never passed out from the pain. Master did not permit it. She suspected the many hours kneeling before the candle and sparkling crystal, watching the colors they made as his Voice filled her mind, and the ‘vitamins’ Master made her take, had changed her in ways she didn’t understand. The pain of the whip had been obscene, yet she had endured, even begging for more, until Master was sated, His seed leaking from all her holes and coating her breasts. Then and only then, Master would heed her pleading, granting His gift to His slave, and she would come mightily, experience the white light of her orgasm and then so quickly slip into the darkness, awakening on the floor before Master’s bed, cuffed and leashed to the bedpost, the need between her legs quietly reasserting the reason she worshipped and obeyed Master, even screaming and begging to go with Him to obey Him, to sleep on the floor of His cell, so that she would be there to serve Him, as He was taken from the court to prison.

She shuddered at the thought. Then, trembling, she brought her fingers to her pussy and touched. She looked at her fingers in the moonlight. They were coated with her juices.

Thursday Afternoon

Paul picked her up from work early, so they could enjoy the sunset at the coast. She was nervous at first, knowing it would be very difficult to change her mind and not make love to him. Paul wouldn’t say anything, but Terry knew how it would hurt him and poison their relationship. She didn’t want that. Terry looked at Paul as he drove, and for some reason knew, just knew, if anyone would be able to help her with the dreams, Paul could.

Terry smiled at Paul, reached out, and touched his hand. He smiled back, and turned his hand over. Her palm rested on his palm, her delicate fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed gently. He closed his fingers over her hand as they drove to the lodge.

Thursday Night

They arrived in the seaside village. It was like a picture postcard, come to life. They checked in at the lodge, then went out for dinner with wine at the little Italian restaurant on the edge of the square. After dinner, they took a stroll between the trees though the square. Fireflies danced around them as they walked on the paths between the trees. In the gazebo, they shared a kiss, hidden in the shadows of the ivy-covered porch.

Back at the cabin they found the bed turned down, a fire crackled in the hearth, a decanter of Madeira and two glasses on the table. She took her bag into the bathroom and several minutes later emerged in a pink crotchless teddy and heels. She slowly, sensuously, walked into the room, her hips moving in a way sure to make any man hard.

She sighed, “I wish there were candles, Paul. They make a place so romantic.” She slipped into his arms.

They kissed and sipped the Madeira. The cordial, combined with the wine at dinner, helped to relax them both. He picked her up and slowly carried her to the bed. She giggled, her arms around his neck and her head snuggled to his upper chest. He laid her down on the bed, and then turned off the lights so the only illumination was the fireplace. She watched him as he undressed in the firelight. She gave a little moan of anticipation as she saw his member standing free. He had walked to her, climbed onto the bed and knelt over her. She reached up and drew him lovingly to her open lips, tasting the Madeira on his tongue. Their kisses became more impassioned, and they made love. After some time, he came in her pussy. She felt a small orgasm but pretended it was so much more, for Paul’s sake. He moved off of her and rolled onto his back.

Terry rolled onto her stomach and rested her head on his chest. She gently stroked his lower chest with her hand, brushing the hair in slow gentle circles until she heard his breathing slow and deepen into sleep.

But Terry couldn’t sleep yet. She was trying to understand. Paul had done everything she had wanted. He had picked up on her desires all afternoon, almost as if he could read her mind and knew all her secret lovemaking wishes. She loved him, she knew that now as sure as she knew her own name. He would love her, care for her, protect her, and respect her. He was all she had ever hoped to wish for in a lover, friend, and, she prayed, husband. He had focussed the entire evening on bringing her the type of lovemaking she wanted with all her heart.

It hadn’t been enough.

Friday Morning

The birds chattering in the early dawn light woke them. She had curled up with her back to him, his arms around her. He found to his good fortune that one hand could easily reach her breast and nipple. He massaged both, getting a low moan of pleasure from Terry.

He nibbled on her ear and whispered, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She turned to face him, gave him a kiss on the lips and murmured, “Good morning yourself, handsome. Hmmm, how did you sleep?”

Paul smiled, “Great since I had this sexy lady in bed with me. But what about you? You tossed and turned and talked in your sleep most the night.”

The sudden screech of a crow caused them both to look over Paul’s shoulder at the window. Paul didn’t see Terry shudder as if remembering a nightmare.

What did get Paul’s attention was finding a set of open lips pressed against his and an insistent tongue trying to find a way in. At the same time his cock received some very arousing attention from a hand that knew how to make a rod into steel.

Terry leaned her kiss to slowly roll Paul onto his back. She moaned into his mouth feverishly, her rigid nipples drew designs on his chest.

She rose up and lowered herself onto his shaft, cooing in delight. Paul gave a long, drawn out moan as he felt the velvet sheath welcome him into her. Terry began to slowly raise and lower herself, doing all the work. Paul reached up and played with her wonderfully long nipples, which caused Terry to gasp in pleasure.

Terry became more active, her hair flying, her breasts bouncing as she worked to bring them both off. Her scent filled the air.

Paul grunted, “Oh, Terry... you are so... good, oh, yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah here I come!”

Terry panted, “Paul, uh, uh, I can feel you... oh, yes, so am I... oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!”

Terry sagged onto Paul’s chest. After a few minutes Paul gently slid Terry off of himself. “You relax here, honey, enjoy the afterglow. I’ll clean up, just be a minute, sweetie.” He kissed her cheek and went into the bathroom.

Terry watched him go and put her face into her pillow and cried.

This time she hadn’t come at all.

Friday Afternoon

Paul opened the door to their room and let Terry step in.

She gasped, “Oh, Paul, this is so wonderful! It’s beautiful! The candles! I love candles, they make the room so... romantic. You are such a dear!” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss.

When they separated, Paul smiled, “I, um, have a little something for you. I picked it up when you were in that corner shop. I hope you like it.” He pulled out a crystal pendant on a chain. The facets on the crystal pendant reflected and refracted the light in all directions.

Terry smiled, “Oh, Paul, it’s so... beau... ti... ful...” The light of the candles reflected through the crystal. Terry felt her mind fading, fading into the candles and the crystals... Master’s candles and crystals... calling to her... obey the summons of the candles... Master’s summons... obey...

Paul was confused. Terry had just stopped in mid-sentence, staring at the pendant. She had a dazed half-smile on her face. He waved his hand in front of her. No reaction. He asked, “Terry? What’re you doing?”

Terry’s gaze never left the pendant. “Obeying, Master, obeying the summons of the crystal and candle. The candle is Your Brilliance, Master. The crystal helps Your slave to focus her service to shine with Your Goodness. Your slave is sinking deeper, ever deeper, into Your Light, Master. Deeper, deeper...”

Paul snapped his fingers in front of Terry. No response. He ordered her to wake up. No response. He was about to shake her when she finally spoke.

Terry smiled, “Master, I am deep within Your Light. Make me as Your crystal, reflecting Your Power in all that I do. I am nothing without Your Brilliance to shine through me and give me purpose. Your Light will show me the way to devotion and obedience and service. Fill me with Your Light, Master, teach me to serve You, obey You, worship You. I love Master, the Light of my life, without reservation. I ache for Master’s slightest touch. Master’s Light teaches slave to show her love with her body, reflecting Your Goodness. Please let me show my love, Master, please let slave worship You. Slave loves Master.”

Paul was dumbfounded. Terry had removed her clothes and was now kneeling before him, her head to the floor in abject supplication to... her Master?

Paul asked, “Terry? Terry?”

She continued to moan her devotions, repeating them as if they were a script she had memorized. Her hips flexed as if she was humping an invisible lover.

Paul asked, “Terry, what the hell is this?” Damn, he hadn’t meant to sound so nervous. But this was crazy. It was like she was drugged, or... or...

Paul finally had the idea. “Slave?”

Terry immediately drew herself up into some sort of a presentation position, with her legs spread impossibly wide, exposing her pussy, her back straight, her hands behind her head, forcing her breasts out, her long hard nipples erect. “Yes, Master?”

Paul wasn’t sure what to say. Oh, he had read the stuff on the Net about Mind Control, had even fantasized about Terry like this, a slut for his pleasure, but this... He blurted out, “What happened?”

Terry responded, “Master summoned slave into Your Light. Slave will do anything to remain in Your Light, Master. Giving pleasure allows slave to shine with Your Goodness. May slave rise and worship Master?”

Paul slowly nodded.

Terry crawled forward and kissed Paul’s feet. Then she carefully undressed him. She knelt again, spreading herself wide, but placed her hands on her thighs. Then she slowly drew them up her legs, until she reached her slit, which she slowly pulled apart, showing her erect passion nub and swelling inner lips. She moaned, “please, Master, I ache for You to fill me with Your Essence. Fuck me... hard...” Then her hands traced the curves of her belly as she reached up to her full breasts. She cupped them, placing the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She tweaked and pulled her nipples, becoming more aggressive, twisting them, rolling them, pinching them, all the while groaning from the self-inflicted pain and begging to be used. “Please, partake of the slave offered in worship of You. Sample her fruits and fill her with Your Gift, so that she will think only of obedience and devotion to You. Please, Master, command slave for Your pleasure...” Terry was kissing and licking the head of his cock.

Paul’s head swam a bit as he listened and watched Terry offer herself as a sexual sacrifice. It was like having a different Terry, a Terry who was a slut who worshipped sex and the man who could give it to her.

Paul thought he had it figured out. Terry was role-playing a sex slave! Of course, it made perfect sense now. Terry was probably afraid of appearing overly aggressive and having him back off, yet she wanted to have sex and let him be in control. Paul smiled to himself, proud of how quickly he had figured it out. The worship bit seemed a bit much, but they’d talk about it. He’d play along with her. She seemed to be taking this very seriously, so he would as well.

As a drop of precum formed, Terry sighed in delight and lovingly took his cock into her mouth. Her throat flexed as she deepthroated him. She reached for his hands and guided them to her nipples, placing them between his fingers. Then she moved his hands so that he was pulling her titties outward. She withdrew from his cock long enough to groan, “Yesss, Master... pull hard-d-d on... slave’s titties... f-f-fuck her m-m-mouth... fuck her s-s-s-slave m-m-mouth... yesss, Master... soooo good... f-f-fuck Your bitch hard, Master, fuck Your slut deep...”

Paul was enjoying the marvelous blowjob Terry was giving him, easily the best he had ever experienced. He hated to end it, but he knew he wouldn’t last much longer and he wanted to see what else Terry had in mind for him. He still thought this was some sort of role play Terry wanted to use to allow herself to have sex in ways she couldn’t if she wasn’t his ‘slave’. Okay, he’d play ‘Master’ if it made her happy. She meant so much to him now, the woman he had fallen in love with at first sight, but hid from her so she wouldn’t bolt like she had when other men had approached her. He had gone at her speed, maybe a little more, okay, a lot more persistent in approaching her as first a friend, then a dating companion, and now, lovers.

Paul was about to ask her to get on the bed, but, remembering his ‘role’, instead said, “Um, on the bed, slave.” He then held his breath, hoping he was right about all this.

Terry pulled back, his cock making a soft ‘pop’ sound as it slipped from her eager, suctioning mouth. She grinned at him, “Yes, Master, thank you.” She climbed onto the bed and positioned herself on her back. Her ass was on the edge of the bed. She looked back at him and cooed, “Master, slave begs to have her tight cunt fucked. Please, fill slave with Your Gift, Master, please...?”

Paul found it hard to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. “Ah, yeah... I, that is, Master, um, Master’s going to fuck your cunt. Okay?”

She slowly, sexily, brought her legs up, folding them so that when she stopped, her knees were pressed to her breasts and her toes pointed downward towards her pussy. She held the position for a few moments, then slowly pushed her legs to the sides, opening like a flower. Her knees uncovered her hard, pointed nipples, while her nether lips opened, allowing her bud to peek out while the dew within her lips glistened in the light. She hissed, “Yesss, Mass-ter-r-r... s-s-slave is-s-s yours-s-s... s-s-she obeys-s-s-s... s-s-she worships-s-s-s... s-s-she loves-s-s-s... she is-s-s-s.... Mas-s-ters-s-s-s... take her-r-r... fuck her-r-r... fuck s-s-slave...”

Paul needed no further prompting. He thanked whoever decided that B-and-B beds should be high enough to allow a man to stand while fucking a woman lying on the bed as he slid his meat into her. She was so wet that a stain was already forming where she rested.

She was far wetter than before. Her lust was so much greater than before. Paul could sense she was more physical, less sensual or romantic this time. They were not making love, he knew. It felt more like mating, that he was a lion establishing dominance over one of his lionesses. A lioness that had already rolled onto her back and signaled her submission to the lion. Paul began to push into her.

Terry put her hands under her ass and pushed up a little, giving Paul a perfect path into her aching pussy. She felt his hands at her hips and shook her head. “Noooo... tits... grab my... tits and... pull... ram... me... deeper... Master...”

Paul did as she asked. He thought he’d have better leverage gripping her hips, but he wanted to fulfill her ‘role’ for her, so he let her write the script. He wasn’t sure why she wanted him pulling her tits, though. The way he was gripping, squeezing, and twisting her mounds, he was sure it had to be painful. But whenever he tried to be gentle, she would moan and beg him to be even harder.

Terry cried out, “Master... Master will be... coming soon, uhg, ah, p-p-please, Master...”

Paul gasped, “Ugh, yes... I will.”

Terry groaned, “Master, please... slave needs to... ow, forgive... when Master grants... His Gift... please, slave begs to, to be allowed, eh, allowed to... anoint Master with... oils... from this offering... oh, Master, please, allow slave to, worship Your Glory... please... need to... um, anoint, yes, Master, anoint... oh, please, please, Master...”

Paul hadn’t meant to let Terry beg for so long. It was just when she tried to ask to come, something seemed to stop her. It looked to him that she was somehow in pain when she tried to ask. She was certainly playing to that sexual religion thing again, but it seemed to prohibit her from asking if she could come.

Paul played the generous ‘Master’. “When Master comes, then slave can come.”

Terry moaned, “Th-thank you, Master... oh, uh, Master... Master’s c-coming!”

Paul felt his cock fire a first mighty shot down her channel, followed by more as his cannon fired salvo after salvo until there was no more ammunition. He started to pull out of Terry, but not before her orgasm began. Her cunt spasmed, squeezing Paul’s cock without mercy. When it relaxed for a second he quickly pulled out, afraid she’d crush his manhood.

Terry shook and spasmed as her orgasm rolled on. Without the command being given, her body would continue to be wracked with pleasure. Something in her knew she wasn’t supposed to be allowed this much pleasure this long. Her body thrashed as her mouth forced out the words her body didn’t want heard, “M-master... c-c-command... s-stop.... c-c-c-coming...”

Paul, who was getting a bit worried as he had never seen a woman come for so long, heard her. But he didn’t know what she meant. Surely if they were role playing she wouldn’t be able to keep having an orgasm. She had to be faking it. Paul shook his head and said, “Okay Terry, play time’s over, honey.”

Terry’s body was coated in sweat, now, her face flushed. Her head jerked up as another wave rippled through her body. She gasped, “P-please... Master... command... command...”

Paul’s eyes widened as he finally realized Terry couldn’t stop after all. He stammered, “What, what command, Terry, ur, slave?”

Terry’s hands clenched the bedsheets as she shuddered yet again, her eyes now half opened, exhaustion clearly showing. She struggled to speak, “M-master... s-stop... c-coming... slave... please...”

Paul nodded and rasped, “Stop coming slave, please.”

Terry’s body quickly stilled. As she sank into darkness, a big smile formed on her face, and she would have thanked Master, had she remained conscious.

Friday Afternoon / Night

Terry woke up as the last rays of the setting sun reflected off the wall. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, hearing several vertebrae pop. She looked around and saw Paul sitting on the couch, reading. She smiled at him, “Hi, honey. Gawd, you’re fantastic!”

Paul put down the paper. “Hi, you’re pretty damn fantastic yourself.” He stood up and walked towards her.

Terry pushed down the covers and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her speech was just a bit rushed as she commented, “Oh, wow, I didn’t know it was so late! Let me get changed and we’ll go out for dinner. There’s that Chinese noodle house on the other side of the square we haven’t tried. I’ll just take a minute—”

Paul sat next to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Terry, what happened this afternoon? I’ve never seen you like that. Is something wrong, honey?”

Terry pasted a smile on her face. “Nothing’s wrong, Paul. I’d tell you if there was. What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Paul reached out and gently touched her chin, guiding her to look at him, rather than the floor to his left. “Honey, am I supposed to believe that what we did earlier was just your average afternoon delight?”

Terry tried to laugh, “No way, baby, you rocked my world like nothing I’ve ever done. You were so good I’m still exhausted and I really can’t remember the details except you were like thunder, sweetie.”

Paul sighed, “Terry, you’re talking to me, Paul, or should I say ‘Master’? And do I call you Terry or ‘slave’?”

Terry blushed, “Ah, well... um, yeah... I guess... do I haveta Paul? No, never mind, I’m sorry, no more excuses. Okay, I really, I mean Really like you and... I thought that you, being a guy and all, well, I know you really think I’m sexy, and, oh, how do I say this? I just thought that, ah, you’d like it if we played, um, ‘Master and slave’, you see, and, and you’d be the big strong sexy Master and I’d be your eager love slave.”

She blushed even deeper. “And, um, I thought you’d, um, like being my Master and having me, y’know, doing whatever you wanted, and, I thought, I thought...”

Tears started down her cheeks. “And now you’re thinking I’m some sort of kinky weirdo slut and you’re going to leave and I messed it all up by not asking you first but I thought it’d spoil your fun and I wanted you to be happy, and, and, and...”

As Terry finally stopped for breath, Paul jumped in, “And I think it was wonderful of you thinking of me that way, honey! Yes, I really do. And no, you’re not weird. Maybe a bit ditzo...”

Terry took a swing at him, laughing. She missed and with her swing turning her back to him, Paul reached out and pulled her to him, his lips resting on the back of her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, “Next time, tell me first. I got worried about you, Terry.”

She snuggled into his arms and tilted her head back so her lips were near his ears. “I’m sorry, lover, I won’t do it again without asking, okay, hon? Hmm, I think someone has rested up and is ready to ride again, or is that a cucumber in your pocket?”

Paul laughed, “You ditz! Dinner first, then cucumbers! Go, get dressed!” He let go of her and she stood up. As she turned to go to the bathroom, he gave her a light swat to her rear.

Terry yelped in mock pain. As she went to close the bathroom door she looked back with a giant grin and said, “You’ll get yours, Mister!”

Paul looked at the closed door and mused, “I expect I will, and a whole lot more. Including what really happened this afternoon and what that pendant had to do with it.”

About ten minutes later she was ready to go. They took the long way to the square, heading down to the beach, hearing the gulls and watching the sun fade. They came back up the dune just around the corner from the Chinese restaurant, each holding the other’s waist. The stroll was slow as they would stop frequently to kiss, lingering in the warmth of lip to lip.

In the restaurant they got a quiet little round booth. By the third course Terry’s place setting was forgotten, as they shared Paul’s plate and fed each other with chopsticks. Paul had been using them for years and Terry was very well fed. As for Paul, he consoled himself with the knowledge that the cleaners would be open the next day.

After dinner they took a more direct and far faster route back to the lodge.

Terry took her bag into the bathroom and came out a half hour later, dressed as a ‘French Maid’. Actually, all she had on was the cap, a sheer apron, matching cloth wrist cuffs, a black garter belt, stockings, and three-inch heels. Her pussy was freshly shaved, except for a small trimmed tuff on her mons.

She courtsied deeply, making sure Paul had a good view down the apron. Then she smiled, “Monsieur Paul, ah am ze maid, Ter-ree. May ah pour ze wine?”

Paul nodded, a huge grin on his face. It was role playing time again.

She slowly strutted over to the table, her ass rolling with each step. The intake of breath she heard from Paul made her smile as she poured the Madeira into a glass, placed the other glass upside down, then frowned. “Oh, Monsieur, pardon moi, but zere ees only one glass and ze wine, she ees too cold. But not to wor-ree, ze maid can help. Ze maid, that’s moi, she weel warm ze wine for vous.”

Terry took a deep sip of the Madeira, then walked over to Paul and kissed him. As the kiss became open mouthed, she let some of the wine slip from her mouth into his. As they both swallowed the now pleasantly warm cordial, Terry smiled at him, “Zere now, eet ees better, yes?”

Paul’s hand slid over her naked ass as he nodded. Terry giggled, “Monsieur! Ah am ze maid! What would ze wife zay?”

Paul’s other hand slipped over her other asscheek. He squeezed both cheeks as he pulled her closer. “I’m not married.”

She wrapped her arms around him as she breathed, “Zen, Monsieur, you steele have ze cucumber, yes? Oh, eet ees so beeg, Monsieur must find where eet goes. Ah can help.” She closed her eyes and her lips parted as they came together and kissed.

They moved to the bed, with Paul untying her apron at her neck. As he kissed his way down her body, he took one of her long nipples into his mouth. He was surprised to encounter something hard and metallic at the base of her nipple. He could see a golden stud barely the size of a BB poking out on each side of her nipple. As he teased it with his tongue he heard her moan in delight. When he slid over to the other breast he found one there as well. He knew they hadn’t been there before dinner. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser, as Alice had said. He wrapped his tongue around the base of her nipple and gently pulled.

Terry whimpered, “Oh, oh, you are so good, so very, very good...”

Paul asked, “Are these new, Ter?", and immediately went back to sucking her delightfully long nipple.

Terry shook her head, “N-no, no, but no one’s... ever m-made them feel, oh, yes, ah, this, this good, baby, no, never, oh, yes, there, do me there, oh...”

Paul considered as he switched nipples, giving the other one the same attention, much to Terry’s growing pleasure. Why had she put them on? He would find out before they left, but for now, he had over two inches of nipple that was just pleading to be savored.

After Paul had played several rounds of musical titties, getting Terry more and more aroused, she finally couldn’t stand any more.

“Please, Paul, you’re so, oh, gawd, so good, but, but I’m going to lose my mind, how do you do that, oh, can, can we, um, I’d really like to, to sixty-nine, if, if it’s okay with you. It is, isn’t it? Oh, oh, I’ll never be able to enjoy having, uh, uh, my titties p-played with by anyone else, oh yes, you know that, don’t stop, please, no one else... you know how to, to, oh, spoil a, a woman, ah... So, can we? Please, Paul?”

Paul raised his mouth off her nipple but began playing with both nipples with his fingers. “Well, I suppose so, but I’m on the bottom and I get as good as I give. Deal?”

Terry growled with lust as she flipped him onto his back and quickly swung her leg so she straddled his head, her pussy inches from his mouth. She began taking long licks of his cock, from head to balls. When he began to groan in frustration, she took his full length down her throat while arching her back so she could lower her pussy to his mouth. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her even closer as he began to taste her nectar.

Paul performed his magic on her pussy, savoring a veritable river of pussy juice. To Terry, his enchanted tongue was better than a hundred cocks filling her at once. Her passion was obvious, her body shined in a sheen of sweat as she took him in so deep her nose pressed his balls to his body. He finally erupted down her throat and she hungrily swallowed every drop. She then shuddered and shook. They curled up and he slept.

Terry bit her lip in frustration; she had very quickly reached the apex of arousal, but had been unable to cross into orgasm. He was undoubtedly the most attentive lover she had ever slept with.

But it wasn’t enough.

Friday Late Night / Saturday Morning

She was waiting, naked, the crystal hanging on the chain around her neck between her breasts. Her nipples were rock hard. The center of the room suddenly lit up. She saw It and sank to her knees, pressing her forehead to the floor before her. It was The Altar, the raised platform where she gave thanks and worshipped Him. She crawled to The Altar and raised the crystal to her eyes. The crystal sparkled in the brightness. “Thank you, Master, for allowing slave to worship in Your Light.”

She climbed reverently onto the platform and saw that the sacraments were prepared. Lining the sides of the table were the matched cuffs and straps, each attached to a rope that dropped off the side of the table. At the head was the box with the single large push button. She attached the ankle cuffs and then the knee straps. These would keep her open while immobilizing her legs. As always, they had locks for which she had no key. She locked the belly strap in place, the welded cable vanishing into the dark above.

She looked down and shuddered. For her nipples Master had again selected the ridged clips. They were certainly better than the Victorian nipple stretchers Master had ordained she would wear until her nipples were over an inch long. Once Master was satisfied, He had permitted her to add the Sacrament of the Nipple to her daily devotions. She still had not earned the privilege of wearing clamps, which would merely squeeze the nipples. With the weights attached, the teeth of the clips would bite and pull so much, her nipples would be sore and aching for days. Her only hope was to beg Master to allow her to pierce her nipples and insert steel slave rings. They would forever mark her as a slave to everyone who saw her. Master had already commanded she wear shelf or peekaboo bras under her tight blouses. Her nipples would frequently press against the material. Large steel rings would be easy to see. Master had said He would never force her to wear nipple rings. She must beg for them, He had said. She would beg to be pierced this night, the large steel rings mounted at the base of her nipples, forever marking her as His eager fuck slave. She treasured the thought.

She picked up the cruel toy and gently placed the already taut nipple between the sharp jaws. She gasped as the teeth bit, not breaking the skin, for now. She slowly lowered her hand until the weight hung from the clip.

Two harsh lashes on her asscheeks caused her to jerk upright, making the weight on the clip jerk and dance, pulling her tit in every direction. Master had seen her blasphemy. She knew that to worship in His Light was an honor most slaves would never enjoy. She had risked being banished to the darkness, never to receive His Gift again, suffering eternal fire within her loins without respite. She had been so stupid! She was nothing but a crystal. His Light illuminated every bit of her. She was transparent, unable to hide anything from Him. It was why she was always naked; nothing must ever prevent His Light from shining through her. Showing she was nothing but a reflection of His Glory. A nothing that was allowed to worship Him and had defiled His Worship. She would worship as He had willed, then seek the punishment she deserved. But for now, she must fulfill the Sacrament of the Nipple.

She took the weight in her hand and kissed it. Then she slowly pulled it outward from her breast, level with her nipple. She pulled until her distended nipple ached, the teeth of the clip tightening into the tender flesh. Then she brought the weight back to the clip and dropped it. She grunted in pain as the weight danced on the string. When it stopped moving she repeated the Sacrament for her other nipple.

She attached the wrist cuffs and finally the posture collar, which also had a rope extending upward. Last were the blinders. Now she could only see in front of her. The collar prevented her from looking elsewhere.

She found the button by feel and pressed. There was the sound of ropes moving and she felt herself pulled into the holy worship position. She had become the offering upon His Altar. She spoke the sacred words she had been taught. “Please, Master, partake of this offering, so that Your Goodness and Light will forever consume Your slave’s every thought. Bless slave with Your Gift and allow her to forever be in Your service. In Master I pray, amen.”

She whimpered in pleasure as she felt the strands of the whip slowly were drawn along her back. She couldn’t look back, dared not look back, for fear He would be offended and leave her wanting.

...

Terry sat bolt upright and looked over at Paul sleeping. She pulled off the lingerie she had worn to bed. It had been romantic, they had made tender love, she had fallen asleep in his arms. But now...

She pulled down the covers, then gently kissed his rod. As she ministered to his cock, it stirred and hardened. She then started kissing his chest and murmuring, “Paul, wake up darling, I need you...”

Paul opened his eyes, “Um, yes, Terry, what...”

She silenced him with a passionate kiss, urgently pushing her tongue into his welcoming mouth. They fenced, the fever rising, until she broke the kiss and got on all fours. “Take me, Paul, take me... hard!”

Paul got into position and slowly slid his rod into her moist slit.

Terry moaned, “No, lover, not there... Fuck my ass, Paul, fuck my slutty ass. Fuck it hard, baby, fuck me hard!”

Paul hadn’t heard Terry like this before. He withdrew from her pussy and she reached back to open her cheeks. He saw her pucker clinching frantically. He could see she was not a stranger to backdoor visits.

Terry gasped, “Yes, baby, that’s it, fuck my ass, please! Ram your cock in, honey, ram me!”

Paul pushed into her. She groaned in delight. He began a strong rhythm.

Terry needed more. “Lover, grab my titties, yes, grab them and pull to fuck me deeper! Oh, yes, yes, harder! Pinch... pinch my... nipples... oh, yeah, do that, do that... twist...oh, so good... harder, baby, harder, ram me harder!”

Terry felt him come in her. She shuddered as the long awaited orgasm finally rocked her. “Yes, Master! Fill slave with Your come! Yes, Master, YES!”

She climaxed with him still filling her with his seed. She felt him pull out of her back passage, felt that frightening feeling of emptiness. She turned around, gave him a gentle kiss on his lips, placed her head on his chest, and began to cry.

Paul held her, a hand gently stroking her hair, comforting her. He felt her body shake as she continued to cry silently. He held her close until sleep overtook her. Even then, he soothed her as she whimpered in her sleep. It was much, much later, with her slumber deep and peaceful, when he finally succumbed to the call of Morpheus.