Marked
by Kree

She looked around the house, His house, smiling as she touched His clothes and tried on an old shirt He had worn. His smell on the shirt caused her to shiver and she was amazed, as always, at how a word, a look, and now, even His smell could take her close to her space.

She rolled up the sleeves, looking at the clock, wishing the hands would fly along and He would return. He had not wanted to leave her for a quick trip to the office, but she realized that His schedule flexibility was what had given them so much time together

She closed her eyes, pulled the front of the shirt to her nose and inhaled the scent of him. His cologne mixed with the slight smell of sweat was almost too much for her and she quickly put the shirt front down before it tipped her over the edge.

She smiled to herself as she reached to her ankle and unsnapped the flap attached to the suede anklet He had made for her. She was careful to only remove the flap and not the anklet. The flap held the key to the toy chest that He had found to match the bedroom furniture. This key was hers for those times He sent her for a toy.

As she had been taught, she kneeled before the box, placed her key in the padlock and started to turn it.

BURIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGG BURIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG. The phone rang, startling her. She jumped from her knees and ran to the phone on the nightstand and in a shaking voice answered:

"This is the residence of Mr. XXXXXXXXX, may I help you," she answered, her voice quiet, yet aroused.

"Hello my little slut", came the sound of her Master's voice, "are you finishing the things I asked you to do before I left the house?"

"Yes, Master, I have completed my tasks and await your arrival so that I may pleasure you in any way that you require."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. She felt her heart racing in anticipation, wondering what He was doing, wondering if He had seen her somehow parading around in His shirt, wondering if He knew she was about to open the box?

"Mast..." she began.

"Quiet little one, I am thinking, " He replied in the voice that drove her crazy each time He used it.

"My slave, look in my nightstand and find the new set of balls on a string, insert them into your cunt and dress in your new short denim skirt and the white silk shirt that ties above your navel. I will be there in fifteen minutes and we have an errand to run."

"Yes, my Master, " she replied, curiosity raging through her every thought.

She took off His shirt, and hurriedly dressed for Him, in the exact clothing He had requested. She tied the silk shirt above her navel, pleased at the flat tummy she saw in the mirror. She turned around twice, looking at her body to make sure it was still as pleasing as it had been a year before when they had first met. She ran the brush through her dark hair, stopping for a moment to look at the flat wooden surface of the back. She had felt both the delight of her hair being brushed, and the surprise of the flat wooden back landing on her ass.

She looked at the flat of the brush again and quickly bending over, administered 2 quick slaps to her ass cheeks. Instantly she felt the stirring in her loins and knew she was wet. She picked up the balls and slowly began inserting them into her cunt. After the fifth ball, she pushed the string inside her until only the ring was left exposed, dangling against her glistening lips. Her fingers were drenched with her wetness from inserting the balls and she smiled to herself knowing her Master would be pleased. With each step she felt the balls moving inside her and she knew if they walked far she would be drenched with cum.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening and she ran to the living room and dropped to her knees, spreading her thighs, and placed her hands on them. Before He entered the room, she hurriedly touched the lips of her cunt and wet her fingers even more. She held her position as He approached, back straight, breasts pointing, head high, eyes lowered. He stopped close to her, so close she could have touched him with her tongue if she had been allowed to.

"Hello my slave, you please me with your very presence", He said, reaching down to stroke her hair. He lifted her chin and kissed her softly, before asking if she was ready for their little trip.

"Yes, my Master, but before we leave, your slave has a gift for your lips. I have my taste for your pleasure, my Master," she said, extending her arm, the wet fingers approaching His lips.

Smiling, He took her hand and slowly sucked the two fingers bearing her taste. She began to shake as He sucked the cum from her fingers. He slid His lips up and down each finger, sucking and licking them slowly, a feeling of excitement she had come to crave. He looked deeply into her eyes, pleased with the gift of her body's desire.

He gripped her hand, smiling at the feel of the moisture on her fingers, lifted her to a standing position and kissed her again, allowing her to share the taste she had given him. He moved toward the door, still holding her hand, fingers intertwined and led her to the open car door. He then walked to His side of the car, started the engine and reached between her legs to feel the ring attached to the balls.

"Very good little one, I am proud of you, you followed my instructions perfectly and your reward will be a lasting one, my love.

She sat silently, pondering His words.... lasting reward. Where was the trip taking them? What would the trip be like? Would they be meeting others? Thousands of questions ran screaming through her mind. Her Master noted her silence, but He allowed the thoughts to run through her mind for a moment.

"Precious, stop anticipating the unknown. Questions and doubts lead to fears and I am here with you and there is no need. Have the trust we share that all will be well for you," He said, smiling into her eyes.

She was amazed at the reaction that the sound of His voice created. As always, His soothing tones carried her instantly to a place of calm, a place she so loved. Her thoughts became calm and at ease, lost in the sound of her master's words. Hearing that sound offered her the assurance that He would never harm His treasure or allow her to be harmed. She thought back through other times and places in her life when that serenity had not been there. The times in school when sleep wouldn't come. Arguments with family and friends that left her mentally exhausted and feeling alone. The love for and from her master had brought her a peace of mind and given her a place deep inside where she could always go and find the safety of His arms.

The warm feeling of His hand on her thigh interrupted her silent introspective journey. He slid His hand to her cunt and pulled the ring attached to the balls. She felt Him pull the string, putting just enough pressure on the ring to cause the first ball to almost be pulled from her. He pulled gently and held pressure on the ball where it teetered between popping out or sliding back inside her. As she contracted, the ball wouldn't pop out, even though her body screamed to feel the feeling of ejecting it. He knew her body and its responses so well that He was able to maintain the exact tension that would drive her toward orgasm, but not allow the ball to pop out. She felt her muscles take over on their own. The clenching and releasing drove her closer and closer to the edge of her desires as her body caressed the ball, not wanting to lose it, but wanting the release of the tension of feeling it pop out. Just as she was beginning to float toward her space, she heard His voice bring her back down.

"We have arrived, my love, pleasure will be yours when we are finished with our errand," He whispered.

She opened her eyes and saw that they had stopped at the local mall. The MALL? She thought. I got all excited about going to the mall? The anticipation she had felt building dropped from her and if not for the balls inside her, she would have lost all the desires she had felt building.

He walked to her side of the car, opened the door, took her hand, and helped her from the car. He slid His fingernails down her back as she stood and touched her ass lightly. He gripped her arm just above the elbow and she felt the return of the stirring as they walked along. Holding her there always reminded her of being bound and His seemingly casual grip on her was an erotic movement lost on those around them.

He guided her through the Mall entrance towards a shoe store. Entering the store, He told her to sit, that He wanted to look at a new pair of boots. Finding the pair He wanted, He pulled them on and placed His foot between her thighs for her to lace the boots. She traced the leather laces through the rings and eyelets, the smell of boot leather invading her nostrils and reminding her of a leather flogger they had purchased in a store on vacation.

When she completed lacing the first boot, He flexed His foot before moving it from between her thighs and the toe of the boot grazed her cunt as He flexed the boot up and down. He placed His other foot between her thighs and watched her shiver as she laced it, expecting the feel of the toe against her cunt a second time. He slid His foot off the chair without the toe touching her, leaving her cunt feeling the aching desire for another touch. He walked around the store, testing the boots, flexing His feet, bouncing, striding, until finally He returned to where she sat and asked if she liked them. She smiled and nodded and He put His foot between her thighs once again, this time the toe touching her cunt as He slid the boot there for her to untie and remove. She shuddered at the touch and felt herself begin to slide over the edge. He saw her reaction and whispered " Focus."

She removed the first boot and sat expectantly waiting for the feel of the other boot against her cunt. He slid His foot between her thighs, stopping an inch from her cunt. She leaned forward wanting the feel of the boot against her, but He anticipated her movement and slid the boot back just out of reach. She looked into His eyes and saw the almost imperceptible shake of His head telling her no. She hurriedly untied the boot and pulled it from His foot, setting it beside the first boot in the box. The clerk stopped back by to inquire if they needed help and was told that they would take the boots. The clerk said "Of course" and picking up the box, carried it to the desk to prepare the sales ticket. After completing the sales ticket, the clerk placed it on the counter for His inspection. He looked at the bill and reached into His pocket for His wallet and handing the clerk a charge card, asked if the clerk had a shoehorn for the boots. The clerk smiled and handed over a long shoehorn with the comment "no charge". As the clerk turned to run the charge card through the reader, she was astonished as her Master took the shoehorn from the counter top and lifting her skirt, placed it against her cunt and lifted her to her tiptoes. He dropped the shoehorn low enough to allow her feet to return to the floor, then using only His wrist, brought the shoehorn smartly up against her cunt lips, popping her twice rapidly with the curved back of the shoehorn before setting it back on the counter. Her intake of breath caused the clerk to turn to look, but as he turned, the register began spitting out the charge slip. The clerk returned to the business of completing the transaction. She watched as her Master signed the charge slip and handed it to the clerk, who bagged the box and added the shoehorn to the bag. He wished them a good day as they turned to leave the store.

Leaving the store, the rich smell of coffee wafted across the Mall and He suggested a cup of coffee. She nodded, as expected, at the suggestion that they have coffee. Her desires were raging as they entered the small area set aside for those that wanted to sample the gourmet coffee flavors and the simple act of taking her seat caused the balls to almost tip her over the edge. Her mind raced at the prospects of the stores in the mall, remembering o ther trips they had made. The shoe store where He "waited on her" trying five inch heels on her while looking at her freshly shaved cunt. The lingerie shop where He told her to make the clerk come get him to approve her choices, then pulled the balls from her and replaced them during each inspection. The restaurant where He had removed His shoe and taken her with His toe as the waiter waited for her order, and the bookstore where He had fingered her among the stacks of sale books in the back of the store. These thoughts raced through her mind and combined with the frustration of her screaming body as she watched him nonchalantly read the different coffee blends and listened to Him comment about the ones He had tried before. He said, "Italian roast is good". She smiled and nodded as her body screamed "Throw me on the floor and fuck me NOW! HERE!"

He mentioned several more blends and discussed them with the waiter as though He was deciding between $100.00 bottles of fine wine. He finally made His choice and the waiter turned to her and asked her pleasure. She looked her Master in the eye and in a shaking voice said, " I will just have ice water, please."

The waiter returned with their orders and left. Her master was STILL reading the coffee blends to her, considering buying a pound of some new exotic blend. She drank her water, wishing she could spill it on her lap, but she was afraid that steam would cover her if the water hit the heat she felt.

She gathered up her courage and in a shaky voice said, "Master?"

He looked up from His coffee brochure and answered, "Yes, precious?"

"Master, I want you.... Now! Can we please go home, or to the car, or anywhere where you can take me and use me? I need it Master," her words coming faster and faster as her cunt began to clench and release involuntarily.

"Be calm, my slave.... Our shopping is almost done. Are you sure you don't want coffee?

This is a very good Italian Roast and I think I will have a second cup. Are you sure you wouldn't like to try some?"

"No, Master," she whimpered, trying to control the shiver in her voice.

The waiter approached the table and she watched in dismay as her Master pointed to His cup and nodded, indicating a desire for another cup. He resumed studying the brochure, occasionally leaning close to her to point out something He found interesting. She paid no attention to the little facts He was so interested in because the scent of His cologne was pushing her closer and closer to an explosion.

The waiter brought the second cup of coffee and set it on the table, again politely inquiring as to whether she might like something instead of her ice water. She smiled at him and replied by shaking her head. As the waiter turned to leave the table, she watched as her Master summoned him back and ordered a pound of each of three different blends of coffee beans and the check. The waiter nodded in agreement at His choices and left to fetch the order and their bill.

She watched as He savored His coffee, feeling her love, frustration, desire, and countless other emotions. She imagined different newspaper headlines, "Horny Woman Confesses to Raping Man in Mall", "Man Drowned with Italian Roast Coffee", "Jury of Slaves Acquits!!!", which brought a smile to her lips. She wanted to scream "FUCK ME PLEASE. MASTER", which caused a small giggle. The giggle wasn't such a great idea because giggling and cumming involved some of the same muscles and it sent her soaring, producing a moan from low in her throat.

"Did you have a humorous thought, my slave? Please share it with me," He said smiling.

"Yes, Master, I was just thinking that if you don't take me and use me soon, a jury would never convict me for fucking you to death right here," she said with a sweet smile.

He laughed at the thought she expressed and looked at her with pride for having the guts to be open with her thoughts. She knew the look and knew He would find it pleasing that she had chosen to express her exact thoughts.

He finished His coffee as the waiter returned with the check and the three pounds of coffee and a tray with a sliced orange and a couple of fortune cookies. She watched in fascination as her Master separated three of the orange slices from the others, pulled the pulp cleanly from each peel by biting the tip of the slice and slowly pulling down with His teeth as the pulp came free. He set the pulp on the tray and put the three slices of peel in His suit coat pocket.

He set His credit card on the tray with the check and handed her one of the fortune cookies. The waiter appeared instantly to pick up the tray and walked away to imprint the receipt. She watched as He took the other fortune cookie and broke it open, then did the same.

"Your vitality will serve you well in all endeavors today," He read from the little slip of paper, "What does yours say, precious?"

She sat speechless, staring at the fortune cookie.

"Read it to me my slave," He said smiling.

"How did you..." she began to stammer, but He cut her off mid-sentence with "the voice".

"Read ... it ... to ... me...now!" He whispered.

"Do not cum, little one, you will be told when," she read in a soft voice.

He smiled into her eyes and nodded as the waiter returned with His card and the receipt. She watched as He added a tip to the bill, signed the receipt, and removed His copy of the charge receipt. Once this was completed, she slid her chair back and started to stand, then looking at him caught the look that said "remain as you are". He reached in His inner jacket pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper and placed it before her.

"I wrote this today, my love and I want you to read it," He said.

She opened the folded sheet of paper, noting it was a poem from the line structure, and began to read:

edges
.
listening to the sound of your breathing,
as the cold steel of the knife touches your skin.
scraping the blade across your trembling breast,
whispering a stern command, "Be still!"
watching your eyes widen and glisten,
as the silvery sheen flashes in the candle's glow.
sliding the edge down the softness of your stomach,
cutting your thong, exposing the wetness below.
.
wrapping the blade, with a piece of leather,
holding the wrapped blade gently in my hand.
parting your lips with carved length of handle,
smiling as your hips rise, wanting its touch.
pushing gently, the handle tip parting your lips,
making its way slowly into the warm wetness.
moving the handle with slow sensuous movements,
exploring the depths my hands have come to know.
.
pressing down on the blade, raising the handle,
finding the spot inside that will make you fly.
carefully holding the blade to protect you,
as the handle becomes one with your soul.
gripping the blade holding it firmly in place,
as the handle massages you with its embrace.
hearing you scream as sensations overwhelm you,
pleased at the trust that allows such pleasure.
.
watching carefully as you enter your space,
floating on the serenity of orgasm's bliss.
sliding the knife handle from inside you,
knowing the work of the blade now begins.
heating the tip of the blade in the candle,
rubbing your thigh with the alcohol swab.
carefully spreading the skin with my fingers,
carving the "M" we have agreed you will wear.
.
caressing you, feeling the ripples run through you,
the intensity of the moment frozen in our minds.

(c) Copyright USA, Michael Montgomery, December 10, 1997
All rights reserved

He watched her eyes as they moved back and forth across the lines. He saw the familiar look of desire and passion fighting against the control needed to hold back the flood screaming for release inside her. He saw her eyes start to roll back as they did when she slid over the edge, then re-focus as her resolve to hold back won the moment for now. Her eyes showed a control that her body had not fully accepted and He noted that she was shaking visibly as she finished the poem. As she handed the paper back to him, she opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a growling moan from somewhere deep in her soul.

He stood and picked up His sack containing the boots, dropped the coffee sack in with the boots and took her hand. She stood, feeling the balls move around inside as she did so. Her knees began shaking, causing Him to place an arm around her waist.

He half guided; half supported her as they walked away from the coffee shop toward the mall exit.

They were almost to the door when He stopped, turned 90 degrees to the left and started walking to a small shop in the corner of the mall.

She had never really noticed the store before because of its proximity to the door and its small window display area. It was a cutlery shop filled with hundreds of knives and swords and sharpening stones. On the wall were huge Bowie knife sets with engraved blades sold as collector's items, displays of martial arts knives and wicked looking stars made for throwing, samurai swords with painted black lacquer sheathes, and a display of kitchen cutlery. The display cases were filled with hunting knives, commando knives, fishing and diving knives, switchblades and beautiful folding knives, alongside work knives with their plain black handles.

She felt the stirring deepen inside her, causing her to grip His arm tightly as the shudders ran through her and she fought for control. Her mind raced back, thinking of the poem she had just read and the many times they had talked of knife play and blood scenes.

"Miss, I would like to see that clipper set please, " He said, intruding on her racing thoughts," no, not that one, the Gerber set next to that one...good, thank you."

He opened the fine leather case and looked at the fingernail and toenail clippers in the set, then replacing them, examined the file and the tweezers, nodded slightly and handed the set back to the clerk.

"I'll take that one," He said, smiling at the clerk.

"Will that be all, Sir?" asked the clerk.

"I think I will look around a little more, thank you," He replied.

"Yes, Sir. Anything in particular I can show you?"

She leaned against the display case, listening to this exchange, fully aware that she was drenched to mid thigh. She could feel her wetness as her legs pressed against each other, a constant reminder, along with the balls, of how badly she needed to be taken, to be used. She looked at the collector's knives on the wall, thinking that the idea of fancy engraving and scrollwork on a fifteen-inch long razor sharp knife was silly. She was looking at the intricate designs on the handle of a sword, when His voice commanded her attention.

"How do you like this one, dear one?" He asked as He unsheathed a shining dagger type knife and rubbed the blade against the back of His hand leaving a small bare spot where the hair was cut from His hand.

"Here, feel it," He said, taking her hand and running the blade across it, leaving a slight white scrape where the knife touched her skin.

She shuddered and her whole body began to quiver with expectation. She looked at the knife carefully, noting the small round bulb at the top of the handle. Remembering the poem, she imagined feeling the bulb spread the lips of her cunt and dive inside her. The handle plunging into her up to the widespread guard at the end of the handle. She could feel that guard spread across her lips pressing them down as the handle fucked her.

"Now for the real test of this blade, my love," He whispered.

She watched in shock as He set the knife on the counter, reached into His pocket and removed the orange peels. He placed the orange peels on the glass counter-top, then leaned over the counter like a diamond cutter about to chip away at a ten-carat diamond. He wrapped one of the peels around the blade, leaving only a small portion of the tip visible. He placed the point of the knife against the other peel, held it flat with His left thumb and forefinger, and delicately cut an "M" in the peel with the point of the blade. He slowly set the knife down on the counter, and unwrapped the peel from the blade.

He picked up the marked peel and twisted it and turned it looking at the depth of the cut.

He handed her the peel to inspect.

"You like?" He asked.

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"Buy the knife," He said, walking away to inspect other items in the store.

She stood at the counter looking at the orange peel with the "M" and the bulb handled dagger. Her body was on fire with the desires He had raised in her. She felt the balls filling her and the wetness tracing a trail down her thighs. She reached to pick up the knife and found she couldn't lift it. With a shaking voice, she called the clerk and told her she wanted to buy the knife. She turned to see her Master inspecting an evil looking little pocket knife with a sharp point and an edge divided between a normal blade and what appeared to be a serrated edge. She drew in a tortured breath when He nodded to the other clerk that He would purchase that knife as well as the set of nail clippers.

The clerk placed the knife in its scabbard and returned it to the display case, then turned from the counter and opened a door built into the wall where stacks of boxed knives were kept. She watched anxiously as the clerk moved her finger up and down the columns of knives looking for the same model knife. The clerk lifted a box from the shelf, then pushed it back into its cubbyhole and continued her search. Up and down the columns she searched, but to no avail.

"Sorry, the display knife is the only one we have like that," she said, "will that be okay with you, or would you prefer to choose another model?"

"No, no, I want the one from the case anyway," she said in a trembling voice.

"Fine," said the clerk, turning to retrieve the empty box with the paperwork in it.

She watched as the clerk bent down behind the counter and reached inside for her knife. Her knife, she thought. Her knife she would present to him to mark her. The thoughts of their past conversations about knives sent her mind soaring. She drifted in and out of the beginnings of the journey that would take her to her space. She watched the clerk carefully place the knife and scabbard in its plastic sheath. Then the clerk noticed the orange peels and reached for them.

"No, I want that one!" she exclaimed, wondering where that voice had come from, as the clerk quickly moved her hand away from the peels.

She reached down, picked up the peels and held them in her hand, feeling the power of the previous moments rushing through her. Thinking back to the way He had placed His thumb and finger to hold the peel flat, imagining the peel to be her skin, .....mmmmmmm, the thought pushed her even closer to a shuddering release and she heard a low growl escape her throat.

She realized that the clerk had rung up the sale of the knife and was staring at her with a concerned blank look. She heard someone panting for breath and realizing it was her, began to use the breathing techniques her Master had taught her. She fought for control of her breath as the clerk continued to stare at her. She smiled at the clerk and nodded her head that she was fine, as she reached into her purse for her checkbook. She wrote the check, amused at the shakiness of her handwriting compared to her normally neat script.

She picked up her package, placing the orange peels in the sack with the knife. She turned to leave the counter and felt the familiar weakness in her knees as she saw her Master holding His hand out to her. She shuddered at the touch as she gripped His hand and felt the strength flow into her as their fingers intertwined.

She followed him as He began walking toward the door, wondering if they would make it through the door this time or if there were other unexpected stops He would "remember" before they left the mall. Each step made her focus more and more on the balls that she had inserted. They seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved slightly inside her, causing involuntary contractions and driving her towards the edge again. With each contraction she gripped His hand tighter and then catching herself removed the added pressure after the contractions settled down. He would look at her and smile with each squeeze, fully aware of what was happening inside her, fully aware of the building desire that was rippling through her.

They reached the car and He opened the door, helping her to her seat. He leaned into the car, reaching around her to drop His shoes in the back seat. As He dropped the sack with the shoes, He whispered for her to spread her legs wide. As she spread them, He kissed her and reached between her legs, gripped the ring attached to the balls and pulled on the string. She moaned from deep in her throat as He added tension to the string as she tried to hold the ball inside. As He moved His lips away from hers, He looked into her eyes and added tension to the string. He pulled the string just hard enough to make one ball almost pop out, causing her to begin shaking from head to toe. Looking more intensely into her eyes, He whispered "NO!", causing her to whimper. He smiled, closed her door and walked around to His side of the car, opened the door, took His seat, started the car, then reached between her legs, wetting His finger..

He removed His hand, brought His fingers to His lips, loving the taste of His slave. He watched as she fought for control, knowing full well how close to the edge she was. As He opened His mouth to speak, she startled him with her voice.

"You are driving me fucking crazy.... make me cum, I need it now!", she shrieked at him.

He took her face in His hands pulled her close, whispering "soon".

"NOW!", she screamed in His face, " I need it NOW!".

He continued gently holding her face as He shook His head "no." He stared at her for a moment, unaccustomed to this loss of control. He took her face in His hands, looking into her eyes. She glared back into His eyes, her anger being fed by the needs of her body.

He rubbed her right cheek gently, then moving quickly as He held her face with His left hand, He lightly slapped her cheek. She reacted immediately by trying to slap him back, but He had anticipated the slap and caught her hand in mid flight.

"Respect me, my slave, or you might go for a long time without release. I might choose to take my relief by using you for a time instead of sharing my pleasure with you."

He released her hand and began driving slowly through the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her. She sat silently, gathering a different type of control than she had been fighting for earlier. Anger had replaced desire, leaving her to fight a negative emotion instead of the positive one she had been fighting for several hours. She knew her outburst was a surprise to him, but He had carried her deeper and deeper in that two hours without any sign of release, something she wasn't accustomed to. She sat lost in her thoughts, realizing that anger wasn't the proper response, but knowing that she had to work through the feelings before attempting to speak. Her next words would need to be carefully thought out and respectful. She knew him well enough to know that even in making an apology, He would expect her to show strength.

He left the parking lot and as He turned onto the highway He glanced at her, pondering her thoughts. His calm demeanor belied the range of emotions rushing around in His mind. He had always felt He could read her emotions and moods, but this was beyond His experience. Had He taken her too far in His attempt to create a really deep experience? Had the light slap really caused the reaction or had her body screaming for release driven her past the state of desire He intended and caused her to lash out at the refusal to allow her release? He had withheld orgasm from her at times before, with mixed results. Sometimes it led to deep release and instant flying, while other times it pushed her to a place where even added stimulus seemed to cause withdrawal. This however was a whole new reaction. She had gone to a place where the desire and need for release had tipped her over an edge so intense that it caused her to become aggressive in demanding the release, rather than losing control and sliding into the abyss which would send her flying.

Where was this new place she had gone? She was mentally strong and had never shown a propensity to allow needs and desires to totally take control of her. Was this a place He should take her again? He smiled inwardly, of course it was. He would take her to this place again and try to read her better and send her over that edge. This thought was quickly replaced as He replayed the incident, looking for the origin of that last straw that pushed her past the abyss of the desire to cum, to the place where her desires became demands. She had never been one to try to manipulate him or top him, so what was the trigger this time? He glanced again and noticed she still held the orange peel in her hand. Perhaps this was the catalyst. She seemed to be in a trance-like state, her thumb tracing the initial He had carved into the peel.

Now He understood, it wasn't so much the physical stimulus He had caused her to endure during the shopping trip. She must have been projecting the feel of the knife against her flesh and adding anticipation to the actual reality of the stimulus He had created. He knew He had carried her further in scenes before allowing release, so the knife and peel had to be the cause. They had talked about marking and branding a lot lately. Initially she had been afraid, but that had been replaced by curiosity, then finally desire. She wanted it, longed for it, and had been inserting it as a topic in their conversations. During her time spent each night describing her daily activities, she frequently seemed to work this into the conversation.

He turned the car towards home, driving along the coastline, which provided the view they both enjoyed. He drove past their turn-off to the little park where they often went to watch the boats skim across the bay. They sat in silence for a moment. He opened His door, walked around to her door and opened it, extending a hand to help her from the car. She looked up from her seat, hesitating for a moment, then slid from the seat and followed him to the picnic table where they often sat and watched the activity in the bay. They sat on the tabletop, feet on the seat and sat silently looking across the bay.

After a few silent moments, He knew that the silence between them had to be broken and that it was His responsibility to do so. He knew that this silence represented a real threat to their relationship, the first real serious challenge they had faced. He fought the feelings of anger and disappointment that kept rising to His consciousness. The whole point of this day had been to create an atmosphere that would allow their relationship to move to an even deeper level and she should have known that. The purchase of the knife was a dead giveaway to the plans that He had in mind. Why couldn't she see that and act accordingly?

As these thoughts popped to the surface, they were pushed aside by a feeling that He had made an error. He had taken her to a place she couldn't handle and He hadn't read the situation properly. Inwardly, He kicked himself for this error. Why hadn't He realized? Why had He chosen to slap her because of her reactions? Even though He knew the slap had not been hard, nor painful, He now realized that the shock effect at that particular moment had not created the focus He had planned, but rather had slammed her feet back firmly on the ground and away from the space she so desired. He had never yanked her away from her space suddenly and knew now that He would never do so again. Always before, there had been the soft voice, the physical touch, the holding, the caring, that allowed her to float back to him for a gentle landing. He wondered if all dominants had to learn lessons in such a hard wa y, hard on him for the guilt He felt and hard on her for the feeling of having been abandoned at one of those moments when she needed him the most.

He smiled to himself at the thought that even though they had been sitting a foot apart in the car, He had felt lonely. He realized for the first time that it wasn't only a question of wanting her and owning her, He needed her. She really was the other half of His world. He had said it before, and been sincere when He did so, but He had never realized the total feeling of despair at feeling alone.

She sat silently, trying to see His face out of the corner of her eye. What was He thinking? She loved him more than she had ever realized and feared that she had damaged their relationship. She mentally slapped herself around for being silly. She could have held it, why didn't she? Why did she have to yell at him? The slap was shocking, but it really had been a tap. She knew He hadn't intended to hurt her. Why did she react and try to hit him? She knew that she had found a space that she had never encountered before. It wasn't the space she knew from pain or orgasm, it was a space where she floated, but was still focused and in control. Even now she felt a slight floating sensation, a sense of the unreal. She wanted to reach out to him and touch him, but the space she had found wouldn't allow it. It was as though her body had gone numb, or she no longer had control over it. She knew that her hesitation in getting out of the car had seemed to him that she was angry or hurt, but she had just been unable to move.

His decision made, He slid from the table and walked toward the bay. He was pleased that they were alone in the little park, but still wanted a proper setting for what had to be done. The beauty of the sunset would provide a serene backdrop for what had to be done.

She felt the movement as He slid to His feet from the tabletop and watched as He walked towards the bay. The setting sun provided a backdrop of colors that they would normally be commenting on and enjoying. Today, it only seemed to add to the problem by casting him in shadows as the sun slid below the horizon. She felt even more alone when the highlights of the sun that had been outlining him deserted her. She watched as He continued staring at the distant horizon across the bay, lost in His own silent hell.

As the sun slid below the horizon, He turned to her, His body accented by the last rays of reflected light, His face a shadow. He stood there for a moment, then whispered,

"Come to me."

The softly spoken words broke her reverie and sent her running toward him. She almost jumped into His arms, wanting to be devoured by them and held by them, but at the last instant she dropped to her knees before him and placed her hands behind her neck, kneeling high. He towered over her, staring down into her eyes in the fading light. She felt him inside her, inside every pore, inside her heart, her soul, as never before. He owns me, she thought, HE owns ME! The emotions rushing through her were overwhelming. The affirmation of submission to His ownership filled her with a radiance of desire unlike any previous feeling. This desire surpassed any physical desire in its intensity and added a depth of mental desire beyond her imagination. She was truly, totally, HIS!

He stood above her trying to begin to speak. The transformation in her eyes sent a chill through him. He had long felt a responsibility for her as His slave. He had felt love for and from her, desire for her, and seen her desire, but this was different. Their earlier encounter had separated them the exact distance they needed to create the space they needed to allow them to slam back together and create the total bond they had each sought.

He reached to her, holding her gaze in the fading light, and took her face in His hands. Their connection complete, He whispered,

"You are mine and will always be mine, a part of me, just as I am a part of you."

"Yes, Master, I am yours. I feel you inside me in a way I never imagined."

He leaned down, kissing her lips gently as He pulled her to her feet. Together they walked along the shoreline, joined as one, their souls intertwined, the radiance of their aura combined in the fast fading light.

They made the short drive home silently holding hands, each knowing that they had traveled to a new place along their path. He felt an even deeper sense of responsibility for her and her needs and well being than ever before. She understood that even within a slave's soul there were deeper levels of submission. Both settled comfortably into their new realizations.

Once inside the house, He held her tightly before sending her to their room. She was given instructions to open the box and lay out various instruments of pleasure for their use. She trembled as she placed the floggers on one tray, the crops and small cats on another, the oils and ointments on another, and finally she placed the whips on their tray. She lined the trays up on the table and verified that she had gotten everything He had told her to. She removed two thin canes from the closet, one rattan, the other delrin. She hated the canes, but knew they were always placed on the table beside the other items. She returned to the box and retrieved the First Aid kit that He always required and laid the scissors beside it on its tray. She glanced at the trays one final time to be certain she had everything before returning to the box to get her heavy collar and cuffs. She removed her clothing and fastened the ankle cuffs snugly, then the wrist cuffs, stopping to inhale the essence of leather.

She walked to the foot of the bed, assuming her kneeling position, palms resting facing up on her thighs. In her right hand she held her heavy collar, in the left her blindfold. She smiled to herself as she felt the one ball and the string dangling from her cunt. The intensity of the past several hours had caused her to sublimate the feeling of fullness from the balls. Remembering the intensity of the feelings at the Mall and in the car suddenly swept through her, causing the feel of the balls inside her to resume their relentless attack on her senses. The wetness returned instantly, drenching her. She laid the blindfold across her thigh, then slid her finger through the wetn ess. She placed her finger to her lips, loving the taste of her desire. She quickly returned the blindfold to her palm, not wanting to be punished for not being in position.

He entered the room, stopping at the table to inspect the trays. He placed two bottles and a sack on the First Aid tray. He lifted objects from each tray, inspecting them, taking practice swings with some, slapping others against His palm or thigh. She watched as He removed the knife box from the sack. He turned the knife over and over in His hands, looking at the handle and the shaft, pressing the tip against His arm.

A small sound escaped from her lips as she watched him move the knife around in His hands. He turned to her and smiled,

"Do you wish to feel the knife my slave?"

"Yes, Master, if it pleases you."

He set the knife down on the First Aid tray and stepped toward her. He stood before her and stroked her hair with His fingernails. She trembled at His touch, yet felt totally in control of her body. He stopped stroking her and held out His hand for her collar. She placed the collar in His hand while kneeling even straighter to present her neck. She placed the blindfold on her thigh and reached up to hold her hair out of the way to create easier access to her bare neck. He placed the collar around her neck and deftly buckled it, checking the tightness by placing two fingers between the collar and her flesh.

Once the collar was in place and He was satisfied of its fit, He placed His hands on her cheeks and kissed her gently.

"We are ready to begin my love," He whispered, "get a flat sheet and place it on the bed."

She moved quickly from her kneeling position and fetched a flat sheet. He watched as she scurried around the bed straightening the sheet. When the sheet was in place, He motioned her onto the bed and snapped the chains dangling from the bed frame onto the

D-rings on her wrist cuffs. He moved to the foot of the bed and repeated the process of securing her ankles. Noticing the string of balls still dangling from her, He lifted the ring and began placing tension on the balls still inside her. He pulled and released the string causing the next ball in line to almost pop out, then be inhaled by her cunt. She began trembling at the sensations, fighting against her need to cum. He held the string in His hand, continuing to pull and release, then leaned down to kiss her. As He stood, He looked into her eyes and nodded His head.

"CUM NOW!" He whispered forcefully, as He slowly pulled the balls from her, sending her flying over the edge. Her ass tightened, back arched, head bent back, as her eyes closed and a scream of pleasure came from deep inside her. He watched her shake at the feelings rippling through her and was pleased by her instant response. He moved to sit beside her on the bed, opening the nightstand drawer as He did so to drop the balls into the drawer. She would be responsible later for cleaning all the various implements they would use.

He stroked her nipples with His palms, sending additional sensations through her. Her much needed release had control of her and was rushing through her at each touch, each word. He bent down and kissed each nipple gently, wetting it with His mouth. His fingers closed on her nipples and began pulling them, stretching them, until the wetness from His lips caused them to slip from His grasp. He leaned down, wet them again and gripped them tighter, pulling and stretching them further, until they slipped from His fingers. Again and again He repeated wetting and stretching her nipples, each time adding more bite to the pinch. She writhed against her bonds to lean into the pinches, trying to make then last longer.

When her nipples were erect and protruding to their full length, He stepped from the bed to the trays and retrieved a small leather whip and the knife. He began gently slapping her nipples with the whip, reddening them as the short tails landed. He created a pattern of red marks around each nipple before setting the whip aside.

"Be still, little one," He whispered as He drew the knife from its sheath.

Her eyes opened in fascination as she watched Him remove the knife from its sheath. She felt every emotion run through her, from a deep desire to feel the knife, to fear of pain, from love for Him, to questioning why He had this need, from questioning her submission to the serenity of surrender.

"Ready, my slave?"

"Yes, Master..........now... please..........," she whispered, surprised by the elation she heard coming from her lips.

He placed the blade against her breast, the cold steel sending a shiver through her. He slid the length of the flat of the blade down the skin of her breast, slowly bending her nipple down as the blade crossed it, then down the underside of her breast. Turning the blade in His hand, He traced the blade back up the underside of her breast to the nipple, pressing against the nipple and bending it in the other direction, continuing back to the starting point. She began moaning and rolling her head back and forth as the sensations of the cold steel created an electric current from her nipple to her clit.

He moved the knife to the other breast, further creating that connection from breast to clit. Moving the knife slowly against her flesh caused the trembling in her legs to increase. He watched as she tried to press her thighs together while moving her legs up and down, seeking pressure against her clit and deeper release.

He set the knife aside and began massaging her clit, offering that release. She exploded against her bonds, shaking the brass bed with the effort as He drove her body over the top. He felt cum spray from her in a stream, still amazed at her ability to ejaculate so fervently.

He slid His fingernail back up her belly, across her breast, leaving a trail of her nectar. He placed His fingers against her mouth allowing her the taste of her desire. Sucking and licking her taste from His fingers held her in the space she had achieved. He knew that without pain even being involved she still reached a place of continuous orgasm where she floated in her sensations. Once there, she found a serene and calm space that could be maintained solely by His voice.

He began speaking to her slowly, softly, in the voice that held her focus.

"Find your space, my slave

release

float in your space

fly for me, you are safe, I will bring you back

deeper, my angel, float, go there,

find your space, soar my eagle"

He watched as she entered her trance-like state, fully conscious, fully aware, yet being driven to a mental calmness that belied the trembling of her body and the ripples rushing through her. He stepped from the bed, still talking, reassuring, and lifted a candle from the trays. He lit the candle, rolling it around to create the liquid wax He sought. He lifted the candle about 10 inches from the back of His hand and dropped a drop of wax on His hand.

"Too hot," He thought as the wax burned into His hand. He lifted the candle another few inches and dropped another drop.

"Yes, there is the correct height." He thought. He placed one hand on her belly, stroking it softly. He began dropping wax onto her breast, drop after drop landing and spreading, incasing her breast in a covering of parafin. She leaned into the wax as it landed, seeking the rush of pain and the electric sensation that followed. Each drop landed on her breast, sending an impulse through her nervous system to her throbbing clit fueling her flight.

"soar higher my slave, my angel

feel it precious, feel it taking you"

Soft words and hot wax took her higher and higher. He continued working on the first nipple, building a thick coat of wax concentrated on the nipple. He was surprised at her reactions now because she was reacting to the sight of the drops, not the wax. The buildup had grown thick enough that she couldn't be feeling the heat, but rather just the little plop as the wax landed.

"Be ready, my slave, we must wax the other nipple now," He said, moving the candle over her other breast. He placed His hand over the breast and felt the sting of the first drops. He turned His hand over to share the heat before the candle began kissing her nipple directly with its heat. The first candle began to become too short to accurately coat her breast. He lit a second candle and rolled it in His hand as He had done before, creating the liquid texture He needed for His task. When the second candle was ready, He extinguished the first and set it aside. As before, He dropped several drops on the back of His hand to test the heat. Deciding His height and the temperature of the wax were correct, He resumed the coating. Her hips undulated at each assault by the drops. Her trembling legs glistened with the cum dripping and occasionally spraying from her. She moaned continually, whispering "Yessss master, ohhh god, yessssss master" over and over like a mantra brought forth from the far reaches of her soul.

"Almost done angel,

a little more precious,

fly my angel, feel your desire,

fly my little eagle, soar precious, soar"

Finally He held the candle upright, inspected the thick coating of wax, touching the first breast to feel the temperature. Deciding He had reached the level of coverage that He desired, He blew out the candle, set it aside, and began gently stroking her belly.

"Yes precious, all done

our waxing is done

float to me angel

come down from your space

see my arms open to you

float to me little eagle,

come to your Master, my love,"

He watched as the shaking subsided, replaced by trembling, then a calm. He knew she wasn't totally back, but rather was perched on a serene plateau between her space and her reality. This was the place He needed her to be.

"yes precious, right there

stay in that spot

yes my love, you have pleased me.

stay in that spot

float right there little one,

we have more to accomplish my angel,

yes little one right there.

Now, open your eyes!", He whispered softly in His "voice".

She opened her eyes to see her Master holding the knife poised above her breast, point down, almost touching her nipple. The scream of panic that surged through her died stillborn in the arms of the trust she felt for Him. "He would not harm her, she was His treasure," raced through her entire being, calming her.

"Ready precious?", He whispered.

"yes Master," she replied from somewhere deep in her serene place.

"Good, my slave, I love you. Be still for me little one."

He brought the tip of the knife to the edge of her areola, piercing the wax. She felt the tickle of the tip of the blade as it pierced the wax, stopping as it touched the spot where her breast gave way to the darkened skin of the areola. He held the knife by the blade, exposing only the tip. Slowly, meticulously, He traced the color change between light skin and dark areola, until He had made a complete circle. She watched as the sweat dripped from His brow, realizing even in her semi-trance that He was concentrating on her well being. A feeling of love and safety ran through her. Anything, she would do anything He asked of her. He owned her.

She watched as He placed the edge of the blade against her breast. He carefully shaved the wax away from her darkened areola, peeling slice after slice off of the light skin of her breast, leaving the areola covered. She realized that the razor sharp knife could slice her open with any miscue, but her feeling of calm and trust had reached a level where she knew she was safe. Again and again He scraped and peeled the wax, until the erect nipple standing proudly in the center of the wax covered areola drew His attention.

He slid the back of the blade under the wax and rotated the blade around the areola, breaking the connection between wax and flesh. He continued until He had been around the entire area, then set the knife aside. He placed His fingers on the engorged nipple area and griping lightly but firmly, lifted a wax impression of her nipple and areola from her breast. The thickness of the wax coating was sufficient to allow the impression to be placed in the palm of His hand and offered for her to see. She felt a ripple run through her as she was treated to a lifelike impression of her nipple, cast in wax and lying in His palm.

"One down, precious, one to go," He whispered, smiling into her eyes.

He repeated the process on the other breast, carefully tracing the areola, then beginning the scraping and slicing. Halfway through the process, the knife slipped slightly and nicked her skin, sending yet another impulse through her, pain and then the electric shock of pleasure rushing to her clit.

He walked to the First Aid kit, retrieving an alcohol wipe and a bottle of Bactine. He wiped the small nick with alcohol the sprayed the Bactine o the cut. The small trickle of blood stopped almost instantly. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Just a nick, my slave, no worse than shaving your legs."

"I love you Master," she whispered from her far away space.

"I love you, my princess."

He resumed the scraping and peeling, until He finally successfully removed a second impression and held it for her inspection.

He cleaned the knife with an alcohol wipe, then held a flame to it and cleaned it again with alcohol to remove any residual wax. She watched intently as He worked with the fire and alcohol to clean the blade. He turned on a lamp on the nightstand and inspected the blade, running His fingers along the tip in order to feel for any small residual drops of wax. Once satisfied that the blade was clean, He leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Stay in your space, my angel, we aren't quite through."

His words sent her flying. They had talked of knives and marking and branding for months. Now she understood her reaction in the car. Anticipation had been mixed with all the sensory input He had created. The knife was the catalyst. Finally, He would place His mark on her. A mark she would wear for life.

"Yes, Master, I am ready," she answered His unasked question.

"I know my slave, I know."

He stepped to the table, picking up the First Aid kit and the bottle He had set beside it. Returning to her side He opened a roll of tape, pulled off four small pieces and placed them on her mound, defining the area where her mark would go. Inside that space, He wiped the area with an alcohol swipe before painting her with Betadine. He prepared a small bandage to cover the wound He intended to make, then stood beside the bed, stretching to release the tension of the position He had been in along with the tension He felt at the moment.

He held a lighter under the blade, then once again wiped it with an alcohol pad. He looked into her eyes, smiling at the serenity on her face. They exchanged nods, holding each other's souls in their eyes as He bent to His task.

She watched in fascination at the surreal nature of this experience. She was a spectator watching someone mark His slave. She smiled inwardly at the care this wonderful man was taking to assure the safety of His slave. She thought to herself that He must love her very much to exercise such care. She felt His fingers pressing against her mound and held totally still as He held the knife like a scalpel poised over her clean shaven skin. She began sliding deeper into that hazy place between reality and her space. She felt him trace an "M" with the point, not a cut, but the light scratch to guide the cut. How many times had she traced that "M" or felt His fingernail trace that "M"?

He turned to her, meeting her gaze, filled with the love of her and the responsibility of owning her. They held the gaze, love and trust flashing back and forth between them. Words were unnecessary, they had a different connection. Soul to soul, partner to partner, Master to slave. Equals completing each other.

He smiled and turned to His task. He had practiced for this moment, a part of the responsibility He felt for her. He pressed the point of the knife against her, breaking the skin as He pulled the blade to make the first leg of the "M". Working quickly, He pierced the skin making the second leg. He stopped and wiped the blood from the wound before making the wide "v" connecting the two legs. The blood welled up in the cut and He bent down to kiss the wound. He placed the bandage against the "M" and secured it in place before setting the knife aside and moving His face to hers. Once there, He kissed her, sharing the blood from her mark with her. Tasting her blood confirmed her mark, sending her flying into space. The tears flowed from her eyes freely as He released her hands, then moved to the foot of the bed and released her ankles.

"Master I want you. I need to feel you inside me," she whispered.

He rolled over on His back, releasing His cock from His boxers as He did so. She climbed on top of him and guided herself on top of him. They held that position while she milked him with her inner muscles and He contracted and released His cock, dancing inside her. Neither moved from that position. They used their contractions combined with the tension that had built during the day to pleasure each other. She lost all control of her muscles as they began contracting and releasing involuntarily. Her erratic contractions changed from massaging to demanding, driving him to His release. He filled her with spurt after spurt of His cum, His contractions uncontrollably intense. He felt a tingling sensation run through His body as they collapsed against each other, both aware that they had gone farther than ever before.

(c) Copyright USA, January 7, 1998 Michael Montgomery, All rights reseved
sudwind@gnt.net