~From: Janine "I want you OUT of the pool, and into the dungeon NOW!" The bellow of his voice carried to me on the mild warm breeze shocked me out of my languid reverie. "Yes, Master. The water was warm and soothing, but I see that you're angry at me for wasting time here in the pool when I should be serving you." The proper attitude for a submissive. Maybe not the attitude that one would expect from a professional nurse, mother of two, and wife of another. "Not angry at all, little one." Again that appelation - "little one." Though he used it on me often, I couldn't help but feel a flush of youthful embarrassment at hearing it. Like making me feel like a little girl caught at something naughty, that voice saying those words always made me feel childish. "I am demanding, I am forceful. I am many things, but with you, I'll never be angry. My voice was raised only in tone to get your attention and remind you of your relationship to me." As I climb the ladder up and over the rim of the pool, I try not to look you directly in the face, but I know that you're watching me closely. When my feet touch the grass at the base of the ladder, you turn and I know that it's my duty to follow you into the cabana. Following you at a short distance, I hear you speaking to me again. "Long before I stepped out to the pool, I'd gone into your cabana and set up the restraints that I would use on you, little one. Then, peering out of the cabana window, I had relished the sight of you in the pool, lazily sunning yourself on the float that kept your nudity deliciously visible to me above the rim of the pool. "What you didn't know, little one, is that I was there the entire time that you and Redneck were playing out your little tableau. I didn't interfere --- because I felt that it was his due to do to you whatever he wished." Realization that my Master had caught me being unfaithful with another instantly makes my insides clench up with fear. Redneck had come to me - love in his heart - and because I reciprocated that love, I let him be with me. Alone, I thought, we shared love in a fleeting yet intense way that even now, left it's indelible imprint on my soul. Even my body still thrummed with his touch. And with fear of my Master's reprisals. "That I enjoyed his use of your body would be an understatement. It is also true that knowing I would use your unfaithfulness to me against you made it even more pleasurable watching you and he together. "So now that he is gone, I come to the pool and order you out of it. Enough of this soft love for you, little one. It's time to pay the piper for the soft music you've danced to for so long." "Assume the position and wait for me." Without further orders from you, I reach behind myself and unfasten the top of my swimsuit. Pulling my top away from my breasts, I note that you aren't really looking at me in the way I would have expected. There is no expectation in your eyes. You seem bored. That was not the reaction I had come to expect from a man who saw me this way - but that was one of the things that had attracted me to my Master most strongly. His strength. My lover, Redneck, had not been so cold and objective. When he had taken the top from my body, I could see the changes come over him rapidly. It is very disconcerting to be bearing myself this way, and know that it has little or no effect on this man to whom I'm submitting. When I pull the top off over my head, my long wet hair gets tangled in the thin strap and I pull it off with a little effort. I do not want to delay your will in any way for fear of what might be my punishment. I hook my fingers into my bottoms, and slip them quickly down over my thighs, and legs, stepping gingerly out of them and tossing them off onto the little table just inside the door. Turning toward you, I take the few short steps to your feet, kneel quickly onto the straw mat floor, and sit on my ankles. Crossing my hands in the small of my back, I lean all the way forward onto my knees, and push slightly forward to lay my face on the floor in front of my knees - which raises my bottom just slightly. And I wait. In the position that you have taught me. For your next wish. I know that I've often spent many minutes in this position while you pondered my fate, so I don't expect a quick resolution to my plight. I don't know how angry you are, and I don't know what you think you want to do to me to punish me for my infidelity. So I wait. Michael, looking at me in my submissive position, gazes at me coldly. There is the vestige of a smile on his face and I can almost hear his thoughts. ~From: Michael It is the moment that I relish most of all. The moment when you come to me and kneel in the position of submission before me --- of your own free will, of your own volition. Kneeling there, face to the floor, hands in the small of your back, I can see the expectation in your body, and the look on your face that shows me the depth to which you would like me to take you. From this point, my face is a mask. I don't let you see my enjoyment. It will take much more than your simple submission to make me reward you with a smile, or a look of joy. You will pay dearly for that pleasure. I step around behind you, and reaching over to the table next to the door where you'd thrown your discarded swim wear, (to cover the items you surely saw there?), I select the ankle cuffs and bar as the first to be placed on your body. One sharp slap against your rump brings your bottom up to the height I wish it to be. We've done this dance before, and you know what my will is. I only need to give you the appropriate cues and you react appropriately. This isn't the first time I've ordered your body into position voicelessly, and the sharp smack is obeyed instantly as you raise your bottom as high as you can, while keeping your face on the floor, and your hands behind you. Taking each ankle in turn, I wrap the heavy leather cuffs around your lithe and graceful feet, and I fasten them to you tightly slipping a small golden padlock through the devices to lock them onto your body. Taking the heavy metal bar in my hands, I hold it for a moment savoring its weight and knowing that once attached, it will expose the flower of your sex to me in beautiful vulnerability. Of all the women I have ever known, only a few have had truly beautiful sex blossoms. Yours is the most beautiful I have ever seen. Clipping the bar to your left ankle, I push with some force to push your foot far to the side while taking your other ankle in hand and pulling it outward to the opposite side. When your knees move to accommodate the spreading of your feet, I smile at the way your sex again opens to me. Clipping the other side of the bar to your other ankle, I reach for your wrists (still crossed in the small of your back) and I easily pull you up to an unsteady upright kneeling stance --- feet wide apart to the point where it's difficult for you to keep your balance. "Hands up, Jani." You comply, and I put one arm around your middle and lift you clear off the floor, moving your whole body under the chains and cuffs hanging from the ceiling. Turning you around slightly, I pull down one, then the other of the chains, and buckle the wrist restraints attached to the end of each onto your arms. The loose chains tinkle against each other melodramatically, but I have already seen the change in you. The moment the first band goes about your wrist, you are changed inexorably into the slave that your nature would have you always be. Gone is the wife and mother. Gone is the intelligent social worker, nurse, and friend. Gone is the church goer, and environmental activist. All of a sudden, I have only an instinct driven animal in chains. An animal that is alive and ready. Willing and desirous of what is to come. Moving to the side of the room, I take a strain on the chains that are anchored there, and with more effort than I would ever admit to you, I pull down on the chains together, lifting your arms up toward the ceiling. Not in the X spread that you seem to thrill to so much more, just straight up to the ceiling where they will be held tightly against your weight. Anchoring the chains back to a quick release mechanism attached to the wall, I walk the five steps across the room to your form ( you are able to stand with your feet flat on the floor, and just a shade of play in the chains so that you can twist and turn slightly in response to my attentions) and I run my hand across your rib cage as I step behind you, putting both arms around your torso. From that position behind you, having all of you exposed to me and vulnerable in every way, I choose to first titillate you in small ways. I start by rubbing your torso gently from hip to armpit, around the front under your breasts and down over your belly back out to your hips. It is a sensory pleasure for me --- feeling your skin this way. Taking this minor liberty with your body and knowing that you want this even more than I do. Two times, three. I enjoy the way your tummy jumps each time my fingers touch you there and your body jerks and twitches back and forth in response to my fingernails tracing arcs across your skin. Overtly, you twist and turn to escape my touch. Secretly, I know, you want me to go on and on. Finally, I bring both of my hands up your body and cup your breasts with my hands as my forefingers and thumbs squeeze your nipples erect. Quickly and effortlessly, I have your body singing with expectation of what is to come. I slip around you, to where you can see me, and I take the little short-thonged cat'o'nine tails from the table. Once, twice, I slap it lightly against the table. It makes a wonderfully sharp slapping sound as each of the twelve fifteen-inch strands of leather snaps down smartly against the wood. Slowly - gently - I lightly flick the strands of the whip up against your torso. No power, no speed. I just let the strands touch you lightly here - there. I smile inwardly when the light touch of the thongs against your belly makes you react as though you were being tickled again. "Keep your head up." And my whip flicks upward and I swat lightly from beneath at your breasts. Such glorious breasts they are. C-cups on a perfectly athletic 36 inch torso. I certainly envied your husband when I first met you both. Little did I know that all of my dreams and wishes would some day come true. Moving to a position to your right, I swung the cat first left to right, and then right to left a bit more briskly and the impact of the thongs against your belly, and the small of your back began to make a more acceptable sound. Finally, with not another word, I brought my hand all the way up and back and with a nasty whooshing sound through the quiet air of the room, I struck you in earnest for the first time. Across the middle of your body, just above your navel, I saw the lovely red marks spring up almost instantly as each thong left its mark glowing warmly on your flesh. Following through on my swing, I wound my body around to the left then unwound snapping my arm around forcefully back - lashing you across the middle of your back with my stroke. Again to the left, I struck you lower on your stomach about level with your navel, and this second impact against your flesh was even harder than the first --- instantly bringing up red marks for each of the thongs that hit you. Backhand, forehand, backhand and fore. Lower, higher, tummy, ass, belly, back --- everywhere but your breasts. Each time my arm cycles through the front/back pattern, I can see the anticipation grow in you. More and more, you present your chest to me in a forlorn hope that the whip will touch you there. Straining now against the chains that hold your arms up, and the bar that keeps your legs spread, you fight forlornly to get me to strike the tender flesh of your chest. After twenty strokes, I pause and move around to stand in front of you again. Turning my back to you, I test the motion of the cat by flicking it downward letting its momentum take the thongs around in a loop upward with a snap. I turn back toward you and you realize what my tentative swipes with the cat mean. You tense, knowing what's coming, but there is little you can do to defend your most private and sensitive flesh. My first attempt to snap the whip against your pussy misses its mark and the thongs graze the inside of your right thigh. Aiming better on the second try, I flick the whip perfectly down and when it snaps back up, it impacts directly on the softest parts of you between your legs. Snap, snap, snap. Valiantly you try to bring your knees together to protect your pussy, but it is all in vain. Twisting your torso doesn't help and suddenly I see you jerk down on the chains and raise both feet from the floor. With effort, you twist and turn yourself away from the whip, so, now that your left side is facing me, I begin the back and forth slicing motions that I began with --- from the opposite side of your body. Obviously, you enjoy this more than the pussy flicks because I see you again try to offer up your breasts to the touch of the whip. But again, I ignore the offering.