Interlude

Erik glanced over from his driving to see that Melissa was still scrolling through the songs on his phone. The drive back home had settled into a companionable silence. When they were leaving the city, she had asked to see his musical taste and he had handed over his phone. She played bits and pieces over the car’s speakers, occasionally smiling in amusement or nodding in agreement.

Suddenly, she burst out loud laughing, “Neil Diamond!”

“Hey, that’s my uncle’s favorite song. It’s on there because it reminds me of him.”

She stared over at him, assessing. “You’re just a softy, aren’t you?”

“Hah! When it comes to my uncle, always.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jacob. Uncle Jake.” Erik stared out at the dark road ahead, feeling a little uncomfortable talking about his uncle.

Melissa seemed to notice. She fell into a thoughtful silence, and then went back to going through his music.

In the quiet dimness of the car, Erik found himself wondering about his feelings toward Melissa. He hadn’t really considered his own feelings up to now. As usual, he had mostly operated on instinct. When they first met, something had just clicked for him with Melissa, so he had pursued that feeling with the same single-mindedness that had served him well in business.

At first, he thought his attraction to Melissa was the same as his other flings over the past few years, but now he wasn’t so sure. He had shocked himself by casually committing to a full summer, assuming she really stuck it out. He hadn’t had a relationship that long for years. And he was between assignments. They’d both be around each other most of every day. He shook his head, wondering what the hell he’d done.

Stealing another quick glance over at her, he couldn’t say that he regretted his impulsive action, at least not yet. She was very attractive; perhaps not “drop-dead” supermodel gorgeous, but as far as he was was concerned, she was beautiful. Something real and wonderful danced in his heart when he looked at her. He knew, of course, that most of this reaction was hormones at this stage. The rush of an unfolding relationship was always strong in the beginning. But more than that, far more than he had hoped, she seemed to be the sort of sub who resonated completely with him, her yin matching his yang. He was sure there would be places where their interests diverged, but what was in consonance seemed very strong.

Her willingness to throw caution to the winds was amazing. While her willingness to embrace new things was delightful, it also scared him. The responsibility of being her guide into this world felt weighty, and her trust in him was a bit intimidating. He also worried about what he didn’t know. Many of his former partners had turned out to have emotional landmines hidden away. Some of those carefully hidden surprises had been truly unpleasant.

Melissa interrupted his musing to ask a question about what it was like dating Deborah. He had been so lost in thought that it took him a moment to respond.

“Ah yeah, we went out for awhile. Deborah’s, well, she’s awesome. I guess you could probably see that. So we had a nice time. At the end of the day, though, it turned out that we were looking for different things. I still think she’s a special woman. I know Michael feels that way. Plus you two seemed to have hit it off really well.”

She replied wryly, “Yeah, well I guess having you order her to eat me out sort of got us off to a bang, so to speak.”

Erik laughed, a little chagrined. “Hey, it worked out pretty well. Besides, I warned you what your duties would be.”

“True,” she agreed. “All true. But… is that the way it is in this kink world of yours? Just hooking up for awhile, then drifting on. I mean, it seems kind of lonely.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure how it compares to the vanilla world. I didn’t date much before I stumbled into kink, but I do have some kink friends who are in long-term committed relationships. Some of them even have kids and all. I’m just not sure the idea of a soccer mom with a ball gag in her purse works for me. It just seems a little weird, mixing kids and a white picket fence together with kink.”

“What’s wrong with a soccer mom whose got a… ball gag? I mean in her purse.”

“Ah sure… I’ll show you what a ball gag is when we get back home. As for what’s wrong, well, the world I live in doesn’t have much of a place for all those normal suburban expectations. I mean, me personally, I’m away for months at a time. My love life is… somewhat unusual. Plus, the truth is that most of my relationships haven’t been very long-term. Anyway, with all that, I have a hard time seeing myself settling down, going to parent-teacher nights, that sort of thing.”

“Can’t see it? Or won’t?” she asked bluntly. “Are you sure it’s the whole kink thing or is it just that you’re not willing to risk loving?”

He felt an angry jolt stiffen his back. “Sounds like Dr. Phil psychobabble to me.”

She paused for a minute, considering. Then she said, “I know you look like some hard-edged, big-business, dominant macho man, but the Erik that I’ve seen, most of the time, well, you’re obviously thoughtful and… I don’t know, compassionate. That last bit, though, was easily the most jerk-ass thing I’ve ever heard you say, which is kind of telling me that something hit a bit close to home there.”

He froze, wanting to yell at her. Instead, he forced himself to consider what she had just said. He knew there was something in what she said that he didn’t want to see. Giving himself some maneuvering room, he said, “You’re pretty fearless, aren’t you?”

She nodded in agreement. “Sometimes.” Then she looked out her side window. “Other times, the good little Catholic girl in me stays quiet. Then the crap builds up, till I explode.” She turned back to him, “It’s better when I can stay on top of it. Feel it. Say it. Don’t hide it.”

He nodded, agreeing with her, without looking away from the road ahead.

She continued, “If a boyfriend can’t handle it, then to hell with him. Of course, I haven’t had a lot of good long-term relationships either, so what the hell do I know?”

He nodded again, then said softly, “Apparently more than I do.” He stared ahead at the road for awhile more. “Okay, so you’re right. I’m chicken when it comes to risk in a relationship. The thing is, my saying that doesn’t mean that it’ll all magically change, but it also doesn’t mean that you’re wrong. I guess the truth is that I knew, at some level, what Deborah wanted, and it scared me. So I ran. It was a lame-assed thing to do. I owe her an apology.”

The highway exit was coming up. He didn’t talk again until he was on the secondary road that went to his house. “But my being cautious in relationships, that also doesn’t mean that Deborah and I were well matched… in our needs. I mean our kink needs. I’ve been there before – trying to make a relationship work when there just isn’t a good fit between what each person needs. The compromises build up, and it gets really frustrating. It’s like vanilla and kink trying to stay together. Something usually comes off the tracks. People can love each other, but if they don’t coexist sexually, well… I mean, it’s like a woman who finally discovers her husband’s gay, even though he was trying as hard as he could to be straight. They might both really love each other, but it’s not a happy place to be.”

He shook his head sadly and continued, “All that said, I still can’t argue your point. Wanting some distance, some safety in a relationship, that’s part of why I’m a dom – why I like control.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve got to think about it. You should be warned, though, even if I’mpretty good at figuring out other folks’ needs and motivations, I’m not so good at looking at myself. In truth, I pretty much suck at it.”

She grinned, “Well then it’s a good thing that I’m so bashful about calling you on your shit.”

He snorted and shook his head again. “Dear God,” he gestured imploringly to the night sky racing past the windshield, “what manner of incubus did I invite unknowingly into my home? Please God, what could I have possibly done to deserve such a fate?”

Melissa laughed, “This little incubus will suck your very soul out of the deep recesses where you’ve hidden it away. And then, you dastardly fiend, your naked self will be exposed to the light of day.”

“‘Dastardly?’ That sounds like fun. I can work with that. ‘Naked soul’, ‘light of day’? Not so much. But dastardly is good.”

Melissa paused, then asked, “Wait a second, isn’t “incubus” the masculine form? I’m pretty sure you meant ‘succubus.’”

“Oh no! She cuts me to the quick. You’re right again. Oh you awful, terrible woman. You’re destroying my manhood. Shredding it – I tell you. My self-image of mastery lies in ruins about my feet. You are indeed a cruel and heartless creature.”

“Yep, that’s me. Vicious destroyer of puffed-up and insecure men.”

“Ouch! Now that was just plain mean and nasty. Impolite, even. You’ll pay for that.”

“Promises, promises…“

“We’re nearly home. Then we’ll see.”

Melissa sat back in her seat, slipping her hand up between her legs. “I can’t wait,” she moaned in an exaggerated tone. Then she giggled, breaking the rising sexual tension.

Erik laughed with her. In another quick shift, however, Melissa grew more pensive. Looking over at him, she said, “You may say that you don’t do introspection, but when I called you on your shit, you seemed pretty damn open and honest. I don’t think I’ve ever known a guy who didn’t get all defensive and pissy when I called him on something like that. I’m not sure what I was expecting from you, but wow! You really surprised me.”

Erik felt more off-center than he liked. He was finding it hard to keep up with Melissa’s shifts. He nodded, giving himself some more time.

Finally, he said, “I promised myself a long time ago not to lie, to myself or others. Living with my grandparents felt so… disconnected from reality, never saying what you meant, always searching for the coded meaning behind what others said. What made it really glaring was being around my uncle, who was so completely real. He showed me, by example, how important it is to listen to other people, even if what they are saying is uncomfortable. In fact, when it’s uncomfortable, that’s usually when it’s most important to listen with an open heart. For me, my own angry feeling of resistance is my most important cue that there’s likely a truth somewhere in what the other person’s saying, and it’s really important for me to hear it.”

“The same thing works for me in business too. All of us have these preconceptions, structures for how we understand the world. We tend to latch onto ‘facts’ that agree with our a priori understanding. And we try hard to dismiss anything that threatens our beliefs. That’s a dangerous habit. I’ve seen lots of companies get into trouble because their leaders simply will not acknowledge that the real world isn’t what they want it to be.

“So I work very, very hard not to fall into this trap. I’m still not always good at it, but I’ve mostly learned to recognize when I’m trying to avoid looking at something. I know that’s when I’ve got to force myself to really pay attention, open my eyes wide.”

Erik glanced over at Melissa to gauge her reaction. She seemed quiet, looking at the road ahead. He brought his attention back to the road as well, downshifting to negotiate a curve. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he was glad to see they were almost home. This conversation had turned far more serious than he had expected. It was not often that a woman confronted him, and certainly never this early in a relationship. He admitted to himself that no one had ever nailed him with such painful accuracy. He tried to squash a fearful protectiveness that he felt coiling around his heart. He didn’t want to let himself hide.

Up ahead, he saw his mailbox. Downshifting again to turn onto his entry road, he worried about what he had gotten himself into. Shaking his head, he redoubled his efforts to push his fears and worries aside, angrily telling himself, “Bullshit. Whatever comes, I can handle it.” He suddenly grinned, “Hell, who knows – might even be good for me.”

Prima Noct

Melissa stepped out of the low car as gracefully as she could in her tall heels. She felt very self-conscious. Despite her brave words to Erik, confronting him had been very frightening. His reaction, however, had amazed her. She had expected a blow-up and angry denials, which had been the typical response when she punctured overblown male egos in the past. Most of the guys she had dated didn’t really like a woman who spoke her mind. Her Irish temper, however, made it nearly impossible to stay quiet when somebody was being a jerk.

Now she felt in a new place, very unsure of what came next. Erik had grown quiet at the end of the ride. She sensed he was wrestling with something. Coming up the driveway, it seemed he had come to some sort of conclusion. She wasn’t certain what that resolution was and how it would affect her.

He took her arm, with a smile, and led her across the garage to the courtyard. His mood seemed lighter, so maybe everything really would be okay. Even if it wasn’t, she reminded herself, she had the money that she had needed to have earned for the summer. She also reminded herself that she had experienced an amazing night. A sadness filled her, however, as she wondered if he would break off their relationship now. She realized she would not just be losing him, but she had also glimpsed a very weird, wonderful, and intriguing world – inhabited by some very kinky people. She felt drawn to this world. A reliable guide seemed important if she was going to explore further. It would be extremely frustrating if Erik opened up this door for her, only to run away.

Crossing the courtyard, the night air felt chill, especially after the snug warmth of the Porsche. She was immediately conscious of her nipples springing to erectness under the open lace of her dress. A slight breeze whispered through the fabric, slipping past her legs and naked labia. It was a unique feeling, walking outside in heels and a dress, while also being so naked and exposed to the night air.

She decided she liked the feeling. It was indulgently erotic, like a fantasy that she could actually live.

Erik opened the front door to the main house and led her inside. Swinging the door shut behind them, he looked around and said, “Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.” Then, without warning, he swept Melissa into his arms and kissed her deeply. She was startled at first, taking a long moment before slowly relaxing and letting her body mold into his. Then she kissed him back in giddy relief. It was clear that he wasn’t going to dump her and run away. She could finally let go of the anxious fear that she had kept bundled up tightly since confronting him.

“Now here,” she told herself, “is a man I could love.” The kiss lingered on, each of them exploring the other, dissolving into the other. “Oh shit,” she thought, “I used the ‘L’ word. Can’t do that! Bad girl! That way leads to the dark side.”

Erik softly broke contact and stepped back, still holding her hands. “Well,” he said, looking around, “where’s a ball gag?”

She looked at him quizzically.

He shrugged, “You know: ball gag, soccer mom? I’ve got to at least show you what one looks like before you decide if it’s proper apparel for today’s fashion-conscious soccer mom.”

She laughed, “Okay, let’s take a look.”

“Well then,” he grinned sinisterly, “that means I’ve got to take you to my evil lair, which is where such things are hidden away.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed in feigned shock, bringing her hands up to protectively cover her breasts. “You dastardly villain.”

Finding the flat of her hands lying across her erect nipples, she teasingly shifted her hands to caress and then pinch her nipples. Her eyes lidded closed as her face relaxed into pleasure. “Oh, you dastardly, naughty villain.”

Erik chuckled, “‘Twould appear I’m not the only one who’s naughty. Come on then, you cruel harlot, now that you have my pants bursting at the seams.

Let us be away to my den of iniquity. Succubus indeed!”

Melissa giggled, “I’m not sure that we’re good for each other.”

As he led them down toward the living area, Erik laughed in response. “Oh, I’m very certain.”

Going down the steps to the lowest level, Melissa had to concentrate carefully on walking in her heels. At first she didn’t notice when he turned to the right, toward a set of open double doors, then she realized it was his bedroom. As they reached the doors, she saw it was larger and more brightly decorated than the man-cave that she had expected. Even though there were a couple of man-cave style dark brown overstuffed leather chairs and ottomans, the walls were painted a creamy yellow. There was also a large, canopied, four-poster bed with a gorgeous quilt. The furniture was a warm, cherry-colored wood. The floors were honey-colored, wide-planked wood, with throw rugs.

He paused after they entered the room. She leaned into him and whispered, “It seems far too nice and cheery for a den of iniquity. This room is really beautiful.”

He hugged her back. “Thank you, but this is just the outer set dressing, meant to disarm and deceive such an innocent, virginal creature as yourself.”

She chuckled, “Then lead on if you must.”

“I must. I must. Before my pants can no longer contain my manhood.”

She cooed, “I could help you with that.”

“You are a cruel one.” He paused, considering, “The only thing you missed was licking your lips.”

“You mean like this?” Her tongue emerged from the corner of her mouth to trace a slow, seductive path across her lips.

“Ha! Now you have truly earned a turn with the ball gag. That will give you something to fill that pretty mouth.”

He led to his walk-in closet, which seemed to occupy most of the wall opposite the windows. His closet was a larger version of her’s on the level above. Looking around, she saw the same plush carpeting and wood panelling, but nothing that cried out, ‘den of iniquity.’ She looked at him puzzled.

He grinned back at her, a little boyish, trying and failing to hide his pride at some surprise that he had yet to reveal. He led her over to a full-length mirror in an ornate frame on the back wall. Reaching up, he felt behind the frame edge. She heard a ‘click’, and then the mirror surface swung fractionally back on one side. He pushed against the mirror glass, and it smoothly pivoted open, a door into darkness beyond.

He reached inside and flipped on a light switch, but that only provided dim illumination of the space beyond.

She looked cautiously through the mirror frame into the hidden room. Lit only by a low light, the room felt spooky. The flooring was a rougher hewn version of the wide planking in the bedroom. The walls appeared to be dark stone. The ceiling was supported by large wood beams. Various pieces of furniture were scattered around what seemed to be a large room. Some of the furniture she recognized, like an overstuffed leather couch and a low bed. Others were not as easily understood. There was some sort of bench with dark leather straps and a large dark wood ‘X’ shape against one wall.

“Okayyy…” she said hesitantly. “Den of Iniquity. Got it. Can we go now? I have to go run away terrified, while the movie audience waits for me to get caught and gruesomely killed.”

“Oh pish, posh. Your safe word still works fine. And no, we don’t have to go in, if it’s too much for one night.”

“I, ah, it’s just a little much to all take in at once. Can we go in to just look around? You can explain stuff to me?”

“Sure.” He stepped through the frame, turned, and held out his hand. “Just step through the looking glass.”

She smiled at his joke, still a little uncertain. Then taking his offered hand for support, she stepped through to join him.

“Wow, it’s warmer than I thought.”

“And that’s not even with the wall torches lit.”

She looked around, trying to see where the torches hung from the wall.

He laughed, “No, sorry. I don’t actually have any wall torches. That seemed a bit over the top, even for me. And not particularly safe. Although I do sometimes regret not putting them in. Some torches would definitely add atmosphere.”

“Well,” she said reaching out to run her hand down some chains hanging from a ceiling beam, “torches would certainly give this room that ‘Spanish Inquisition’ flavor that it’s otherwise so sadly lacking.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. It evokes a certain mood if I don’t say so myself.”

She nodded in agreement, “I don’t know. I say, ‘why hold back?’ You should have gone for the wall torches.”

He laughed sheepishly, “I did have gas lines run behind the walls when it was being built, in case I changed my mind.”

She shook her head, “You… are truly incorrigible.”

He grinned, “I try.” Then he waved to the room. “Here, I’ll give you the tour.”

She nodded, feeling more comfortable, and more than a little curious.

He led her to a case of long, flat drawers. Sliding one of the drawers out revealed a neatly arranged collection of items. Most of the objects seemed to be fashioned from black leather, balls of brightly colored rubber, polished steel, and more leather. He brushed his hand lightly across them, stopping at one in particular, lifting it out. It was a red ball with a leather strap that went through the middle of it. One end of the strap had a polished chrome buckle and the other end of the strap had matching holes.

Showing it to her, he said, “So this is a ball gag. The ball is a medical-quality silicon rubber, so it doesn’t taste nasty.” He turned it over in his hand. “The bits here where the strap goes through the ball are wrapped in padded leather, so it doesn’t pull too harshly on your mouth. The ball diameter is reasonable, not too huge, so it’s a good gag to start with.”

She followed his explanation somewhat uncertainly. It was now clear to her that a ball gag was meant to be worn in her mouth, with the strap buckled around her head. She just wasn’t all that certain that she wanted to wear it.

He noted her hesitancy. “You don’t seem entirely sold on the idea.”

“I’m just not sure how it’s… fun, or what it’d do for me. What does it do for you?”

He grinned. “I like the look of a woman wearing a ball gag. There’s… a sort of submission. The idea that she wants to make noise, but can’t. For me, it’s about making a woman get aroused – about her wanting to cry out, but only being reduced to groans.

“Some women love to be played with and held at the edge of an orgasm for a long time. For me, having them gagged really enhances that sort of play. I have this sense of controlling their voice, only allowing primitive, animal grunts and groans.

“Plus, some women, and men, love wearing a ball gag. Mostly, I think, it’s the ones who talk a lot when they get nervous. Being gagged forces them to hold that energy inside, instead of talking it away.

“I’ll warn you, though, a ball gag isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. I think it’s really a small minority of folks who truly get off on wearing one. For the most part, I think that subs wear gags simply because their masters enjoy the look. Plus, there’s a certain enjoyment that a good sub gets out of purely being decorative, knowing that it’s making his or her Master get that much more aroused.”

As he spoke, Melissa was not surprised to find herself becoming more aroused. She was slowly getting used to becoming horny from simply thinking about being submissive. His description of a sub wanting to be decorative certainly tipped her in that direction. “After all,” she asked herself silently, “what’s the point of these fucking six inch heels, if not to be decorative?”

He asked, “Do you want to try it?”

Without words, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, suppressing a shudder of excitement.

He pressed the ball gently up against her mouth. She opened wider to allow it in, surprised by how large it felt in her mouth. She wasn’t sure where to put her tongue – the ball crowded her tongue out of the way, no matter how she tried to find a comfortable place.

Laying the leather straps over each shoulder, Erik walked around behind her to fasten the gag tight. Even with the padded edges, the strap dug against her lips. Her jaw was beginning to protest at being held so widely open.

He walked back around in front of her, admiring his handiwork. “Yes indeed, you look perfectly beautiful in a ball gag.” He caressed the side of her face gently. “Here,” he said, softly tracing her lips with his finger, “hold your lips open, as though the gag is almost too large to contain. Let your teeth show, gripping the ball, almost like your lips are puckered-up, kissing it.”

She pulled back her lips to comply and was rewarded with a very satisfied grin on his behalf. “That’s truly wonderful. I really like that look. I’m not sure if it’s doing anything for you, but it’s definitely making me extraordinarily horny.”

Melissa tried to tell him that it was okay, but the words came out very indistinctly. He grinned and nodded.

She felt her saliva pooling in her mouth, threatening to spill over her lower lip, so she wrapped her lip around the ball again. He looked puzzled and asked, “Are your lips tired already?”

She shook her head ‘no’ and then tipped her head back to grunt out, “Gonna drool.”

Once he parsed her meaning, he smiled and reassured her, “No, no, let it come out. Drooling around a ball gag is considered very proper form. I personally find it really seductive. There’s a certain sort of helplessness and vulnerability that is really arousing.”

Still not certain that she believed him, she pulled back her lips, allowing her mouthful of saliva to spill out over her lower lip and drool down her chin. There was so much of it that she felt wet drops on her breasts. She couldn’t believe that drooling like this was supposed to be sexy, but the look of contentment on Erik’s face told her otherwise. It was clear that he wasn’t lying about finding her drooling attractive.

He groaned, saying, “now I really want to put something else in that wonderful mouth.”

She opened her eyes wider and nodded her agreement. He laughed, however, saying, “Not too quickly. I want to play with you some more. You’re the most delightful sex toy imaginable. There is so much more to explore.”

Despite her disappointment about not being released from the uncomfortable gag, she felt her own sense of arousal growing, feeding off of the obvious sexual energy she was generating within him. She couldn’t believe that being called a “sex toy” could make her feel so horny.

He stepped back studying her. “Hmm. The heels are great. I like the dress, but it’s got to go. And the arms… bound behind the back. Yep.”

Then he looked at her more directly. Stepping carefully out of the mood, he asked, “You still okay with the ball gag? Not too tight? Jaw okay?”

She nodded.

“Good. You still okay with the scene? Feeling safe?”

She nodded again.

“Okay,” he said, slipping back into his demeanor as her master. “Then let’s turn it up a little. To continue your tour, first, we’re going to have to remove that perfectly lovely dress. I need you fully naked and vulnerable.”

He stepped closer, undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. She stood there quietly, trying not to let him see her trembling excitement. When he finished with the last button, he slipped the straps off her shoulders, letting her dress fall to the floor in a black lace puddle around her feet. He stroked the back of his hand down the length of her torso. She arched toward him, moaning softly.

He smiled and kissed her gently along her neck, tracing a line just above the collar she still wore, causing her to shudder.

“Oh yes. Very nice,” he said in a satisfied tone. “Now lets see what we can do about those arms.”

She looked down at her arms, which she had kept at her sides, as he slid open another drawer. He picked up a padded black leather cylinder with a big chrome zipper running its full length. Unzipping it, he pulled the cylinder open, stepping behind her once again. He drew her hands up, one at a time, shaping each of her hands to grasp her opposite elbow behind her back. Then he slid the leather cylinder around both her lower arms, encasing them. She felt the pressure increase slightly as he pulled the zipper closed.

“It’s called an arm binder,” he whispered into her ear.

With her arms trapped and her back arched, she could feel her heart thumping loudly. She wasn’t sure if it was panic, or arousal, or both.

He stepped beside her, grasping her leash near her collar and supporting one of her upper arms with his other hand, making sure she didn’t lose her balance.

“Now,” he said brightly while tugging her gently forward, “let’s explore the rest of the room, shall we?”

As she stepped forward to follow his lead, she felt her labia slide smoothly past each other. She was momentarily embarrassed to realize that she could actually feel her own juices running down the inside of her thighs, making her legs slick as she walked. Her rapid heartbeat, she decided, was definitely arousal. Some fear was probably there too, but she was quickly growing desperate for any kind of sexual release. It amazed her that being paraded like this across a room could drive her so crazy with lust, but there was no way to deny the reality of her response.

He stopped in front of a high bench, covered in padded black leather. The lower part of the bench seemed festooned with black leather straps and shiny metal buckles. The bench was less than a foot wide, and the end they were standing at narrowed to a rounded knob.

He tugged her forward so that she had to straddle the knob. Her labia slid open easily, as the leather pushed past her. She groaned harshly against the ball gag when her clitoris slipped across smooth, wet leather. She stood, balancing on tip-toe, straddling the bench, shuddering and vibrating from the intensity of the sensation. Erik gently pressed her upper body forward and down, until her torso was lying across the cool, padded leather.

By drawing her down, he had also brought her clitoris into much firmer contact against the rounded knob. She shuddered, pressing herself down harder against the knob.

He laughed, “No, no, no. I have not yet given you permission to come.”

She screamed in frustration against the gag.

“So this,” he continued in a pleased tone, “is a spanking bench.”

Just hearing those words nearly pushed her over the edge. She panted hard, groaning in desperate frustration at the requirement to hold back her orgasm.

He laughed again as he smacked his bare hand against one of her butt cheeks, knowing what it would do to her. She jerked and whimpered, wanting to beg him for permission to come, but unable to talk.

He spanked her other butt cheek, and she whimpered even louder, trembling in her struggle to hold back an orgasm.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I know that I am spoiling you horribly, but you are allowed to come the next time I touch you.

She gasped for air, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until he caressed her buttocks, releasing a bucking, thrashing orgasm that seemed to last for minutes. Just as what she thought were her final jolts of release were subsiding, he resumed spanking her. She slammed against the leather padding again and again, as her body continued to clench in orgasmic spasm. She screamed in frustration against the gag, helpless to stop this overwhelming orgasm with her arms fastened securely behind her.

Finally, he slowed and stopped, allowing her orgasm to taper off. She collapsed, utterly exhausted across the bench, chest heaving as she sucked air past the gag. He quickly undid the gag’s buckle, letting the ball fall from her mouth. She gasped, drawing in huge gulps of air.

Then he unzipped the leather arm binder as well. Once released, her arms fell of their own accord to either side of the bench. She felt like a rag doll, completely unable to move of her own accord.

He stroked his hand along her head and back for a long time, while her breathing gradually slowed. Without meaning to, she drifted into sleep, sprawled across the bench. He continued to stroke her for several minutes. Then, moving carefully, he picked her up in his arms. She roused to a confused wakefulness, ineffectually trying to wave her arms.

“Hush,” he said quietly. “We’ll save the rest of the tour for another day. Now it’s time to get you to bed. You’ve had quite a day.”

She grunted agreement, snuggling into his shoulder.

He carried her, cradled in his arms, up to her bed. Crouching down, he pulled back the covers as best he could while still holding her. Slowly, he laid her into bed. She mumbled, “Thanks.” He undid her collar and slipped off her shoes. Then he pulled the covers over her. After looking down at her for awhile, he bent to kiss her forehead. Then turning out the light, he walked softly to the door. Pausing, he turned and looked back at her sleeping form, before quietly closing the door.