Afghan Bound (19 page)

A huge bath towel and robe hung on a heated rail for her use when she had finished bathing. She patted herself dry, being careful not to catch her new pins on the material, then oiled the aureole around each nipple. Every circle of her slippery fingers dialled a new and wonderful sensation – a sensation that could end only after those naughty fingers had hesitantly drifted down to her clitoris…

By and large the clothes for dinner were the same as the previous evening, although only a quarter-cup bra was laid out. Again there were no knickers. David came for her as she was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

The phallic dining chair was no longer a shock, but her vagina did contract as the tip nudged at her entrance. She was still very sensitive from the secret orgasm she had enjoyed in the bathroom. Once she was fully seated however, the familiar feelings flowed back and she sat willingly and rhythmically upon the stalk, no longer humiliated by the presence and watchful eye of her master. In effect she was already his slave. He had degraded her, pierced her, and no doubt when he was ready, he would screw her – so what was the point in being embarrassed?

David filled her glass with claret, the perfect accompaniment to the meal. ‘After dinner you will practice fellatio on me,' he informed her between a mouthful of fillet steak and a sip of the wine. ‘The sooner you perfect these skills and learn to enjoy, the better for all concerned. Don't you agree?'

Emily nodded, making sure not to make eye contact.

‘I'm sorry – I didn't hear you,' he said. ‘Speak up.'

‘Yes,' she replied hastily. ‘I do agree.'

David picked up his faithful and ever-present sjambok. ‘Yes what?' he demanded.

Emily panicked. What did he mean? What more did he want? Her panic increased as the tip of the whip prodding her sensitive nipples. With relief she suddenly realised. ‘Yes master!' she blurted.

David put the whip back down and finished his meal.

In the sitting room the heat from the fire was almost unbearable, especially in a rubber skirt and stockings. David sat in the middle of the sofa and opened his legs, motioning for Emily to kneel between them where he could admire her beautiful breasts. He casually unbuttoned his trousers and unzipped the fly. He was pleased to see her wide eyes glued to his hands as they drew his erection out from the shadows to stand before her spellbound face. He watched her instinctively wet her rouged lips.

‘Do you swallow your husband's sperm, Emily?' he asked.

She shook her head without tearing her eyes from his slowly pulsing penis. ‘Never, master,' she eventually whispered. ‘He always allows me to take my mouth away just before he comes. He knows I don't like it.'

‘You will accept my offering, without question. Is that understood?'

‘Yes master… I understand. I will do my best not to disappoint you.'

‘I want you to make me come. I will do nothing to help you stimulate me.'

‘Yes… master.'

David was elated; the speed of her transformation surprised him greatly. At this rate he would have little to do for the rest of the month but enjoy himself. ‘Very well,' he said, trying hard not to betray the sexual tension in his voice. ‘You may proceed.'

She hesitated for a moment, and then timidly leaned forward and touched her soft moist lips to the tip of his purple helmet. Her confused expression was almost enough to have him erupting instantly. He clenched his teeth and his fists. Her cherry lips slowly covered the shiny dome and began their work.

Delicate fingertips tickled his tightening scrotum, and a wicked nail traced the vein running up the underside of his column. She sucked the dome with growing confidence, and gradually accepted more and more into her mouth. She slurped as though devouring an ice cream. Her tongue probed his single eye. David rapidly weakened. It wouldn't do to come so quickly; he was supposed to be in total control, both of her and of himself. But she was unsuspectingly creating a storm of arousal within him. He longed to entwine his fingers in her hair and lift his hips to fill her completely, but it was her task to make him come. He held his breath and watched as her head lowered and her tight lips slid down and down. Her mouth squeezed and her throat sucked. Her breasts swayed against his thighs. David could resist no longer. His excitement rose up his cock, and then burst into her waiting mouth. She instinctively recoiled a little, but her lips remained determinedly in place. David felt as though his penis was in a vacuum as he erupted again. Emily worked conscientiously between his knees, until gradually his passion subsided.

David sighed as his softening manhood slipped from its warm haven and flopped onto his belly. He felt Emily kiss it affectionately as he slumped into the sofa. If that was her performing as a relative novice, he had a great deal to look forward to over the coming month.

The next morning brought with it heavy rain that Emily hoped would mean no exercise. She was wrong. After watching her shave herself David had her swim naked before breakfast, and then marched her down to the cavern.

‘Up on the platform, if you please.'

Although still a little apprehensive, she felt a lot more confident than she had yesterday. She wanted to ask what his intentions were, but she knew by now he tolerated no unauthorised questions. Anyway, she decided it was probably better to remain ignorant.

Once again he threw her leader chain over a bar, preventing her from climbing down from the platform. Then he locked her wrist cuffs together before connecting a chain to them and running the links through a pulley. The moment he did that she knew he was going to suspend her, but for what purpose she could not fathom. From an unlit part of the cavern David next brought a spreader bar, which he attached to the ankle cuffs. When he had finished manacling and fettering her, he took a moment to enjoy the feel of her body. He ran his hands down her full length, paying particular attention to her pierced nipples.

‘After today,' he said kindly, ‘the piercing will be over. You will be complete.'

He began pulling the chain through the pulley until she was lifted just off the platform. She grimaced as her shoulder joints took the weight. She wondered why he couldn't just do what he had to do, without all this slow build up. Why all this prolonged foreplay? She was ready to be pierced again, and would accept it without complaint. Why couldn't he just get on with it?

‘It is to prove what you are able to endure in order to serve your master,' David said as though reading her thoughts. ‘Only through pain will you learn unwavering obedience. Only when you understand the true terrors of disobedience can you understand the true meaning and pleasure of duty and submission – and indeed, of slavery itself.'

He reached between her legs and held her labia. The intimate folds and the swell of her thighs meant the piercing gun was impractical for such a delicate operation. He would instead use a tool based on the design of a ticket collectors punch, specially constructed from surgical steel to minimise the risks of infection. He sprayed the anaesthetic and waited a few minutes, and then perforated the labia and inserted silver labrets.

Emily felt nothing, only realising the operation was over when David unclipped the spreader bar and lowered her to the platform, and then to the floor. The instant her hands were free, and before she dared look, she felt between her legs for the loops. They were there, solid and silver and right the way through her lips. She would never be the same woman again.

The bath revitalised the nerve-endings as it had the previous evening, but like then, once the pain had passed it was replaced with a pulsating, pleasing beat. Emily unashamedly admired her new form in the mirrors. With the bright metal winking and glistening on her body she had to admit she looked something special.

For dinner she wasn't to be topless, although she might as well have been for all the good the blouse that David had laid out was. It was sheer silk, totally see-through, and extremely rude. The skirt was a light cotton affair, and surprisingly there were no stockings to wear. She wouldn't have to use the chair for a day or two – to give her time to heal – and the light skirt was to help make her as comfortable as possible. She warmed to her master's consideration, and whilst they ate in silence she felt herself moisten at the prospect of kneeling between his thighs to once again bring him pleasure.

By the weekend there had been no problems and David could resist making love to Emily no longer. That day he exercised her lighter than usual, and in the evening he even supplied a bottle of champagne while she bathed. When all was ready he called her down for a glass of sherry before dinner.

She looked stunning as she entered the room wearing a long strapless black gown that was split up the back to allow access for the prodding chair. Around her neck was a black choker and her feet were encased in ankle length leather boots, triple buckled at the front and sporting a spur-like link at the back; handy for tying her legs open should he chose to. Underneath she wore a strapless waspie and seamed stockings as stipulated. She took the drink he offered even though she already felt quite woozy from the champagne.

‘Do you know why I've given you such beautiful clothes to wear tonight?' he asked.

Emily bit her bottom lip and nodded. ‘I think so.'

David circled her, admiring her firm body, her perfectly coiffured short black hair, cut in such strict fashion. His eyes followed the line of the split, up past the back of her knees, past her thighs to the hint of her panty-less bottom peeping out at him. It took every ounce of willpower to refrain from taking her there and then; on the floor or wherever it pleased him. He fought back the desire and led Emily through to the dining room. Tonight there was just the two for dinner; the sjambok was not invited. David pulled back her chair and Emily looked down at the thick, bossy prod. It no longer intimidated her. With a smile she gathered her dress, opening wide the split at the back, and enveloped the smooth phallus. Her impalement was helped by the two garters that ran through each labial ring and pulled her lips open. It was the show of obedience that David had hoped for. All his work was coming to fruition, proving how right he'd been in his methods. He dedicated the moment to Miss Haines and the Afghan beauty – wherever they were.

Throughout the meal David studied her as she ate. Just as he'd taught her she refused to make eye contact, keeping her gaze to her plate and chewing everything thoroughly before swallowing. With a wry smile he watched her daintily bringing herself off on the chair; he detected the gentle rhythm of her efforts moving the table. She was happy with her position, no longer frightened or embarrassed. She knew what was expected of her.

The meal came to an end and David politely offered Emily a hand to rise. He led her through to the lounge and sat, as had become his custom, to watch her attend to his needs. First she poured him a vodka, taking it to him on a small silver tray, her head bowed. Then she returned to the centre of the room and began to display her body, offering and teasing in every sexy way she knew how. Eventually David had her turn away and bend forward so that the dress folded away from her thighs like the parting wings of a ladybird. He left her like that while he took off his own clothes and then sat back to massage his erect penis.

‘Come here,' he said.

Emily glided to where he was, and at his gesture dropped to her knees.

‘Do you want to suck me?'

‘Yes master,' she answered. ‘I would love to suck you.'

‘Very well.'

Without hesitation she dipped her head and closed her mouth over him, paying particular attention to his glans, which she knew to be his most sensitive area. David gazed affectionately at her head of black hair bobbing in his lap. She was truly a wonderful slave; no trouble and anxious to please. It was time.

‘Over here,' he said, patting the arm of the settee, ‘and open your dress at the back.'

Emily eased herself across the furniture. The sweet fragrance of her nectar confirmed her readiness to accept him. He lowered himself, and entered with one easy stroke. When completely embedded inside her he remained perfectly still, allowing the tiny pulsation's of her succulent vagina to gently massage him until he could stand no more, and withdrew to the very tip of his glans. He started to move back and forth. Emily writhed beneath him, pushing back against his thrusts as if she had to impale herself further onto his length. Little moans became gasps of delight as she felt him ram home time and time again. Higher crept her squeals, matching the urgent speed of his hips.

‘Oh yesss!' she shrieked as orgasm after orgasm lapped her body like waves on a beach. ‘Ahhh… thank you master! Thank you! You're incredible!'

But David wasn't yet finished. Onward he travelled, crushing his body into hers, sending her further into oblivion where moments later he joined her at the glorious conclusion of their act.

His knees buckled with the effort and they sprawled onto the sofa. The cheeky minx soon located his flaccid penis and began coaxing it back to life with her clever tongue. He was beginning to wonder whether she would ever be satisfied.

When he was again fully erect she slipped out of her dress, leaving on only her boots and waspie. It wasn't what he had planned, but how could he resist her impudent charm? He rose and led her to a Queen Anne chair. This time she would do all the work.