Second Assignment for Satan Klaus

[Dragon's muse]

Write me a short story or scene with this as your opening.

Janice sat on the hard wooden bench. She was blindfolded and her hands were bound behind her. Hot breath stirred the tendrils of hair that hung near her ear; a low voice rumbled, "Relax. Trust me."

[Satan_Klaus]

Blind trust

Janice sat on the hard wooden bench. She was blindfolded and her hands were bound behind her. Hot breath stirred the tendrils of hair that hung near her ear; a low voice rumbled, "Relax. Trust me."

He embraced her from behind, pressing his body against hers. “You want this, don’t you?” He asked, gently cupping her breasts, feeling for her racing heartbeat. His hands slowly moved down her shivering belly then spread out over her inner thighs. Suddenly, he tightened his grip on her, forcefully spreading her legs apart. “Don’t you, slut?” he hissed into her ear with a sudden hardness in his voice. Janice gave a soft cry of surprise and curled up as far as her bonds and his firm hands would allow.

“Y-yes?” More a question then an answer. How could she want and not want something so much at the same time?

“Trust your feelings!” He said kindly, taking hold of her again, his hands caressing her softly. His embrace was firm, but not crushing: possessive and protective at the same time. He slowly stroked her, down and up and down again, encircling her pussy but never touching it, gently coaxing her thoughts where he wanted her to go.

It was true, she wanted this, wanted to surrender to him fully. Trust him blindly. Be his property. But she was also afraid; afraid of what she would have to do this time. His ‘exercises’ pushed her limits further every time. They left her sore and red all over. They left her shamed and humiliated. They reduced her to a crying heap of submissive goo seeking shelter in her master’s arms. They left her wanting for more.

“You can still turn back.” He said, his hands moving to where her wrists were tied together with a piece of rope. “Noo!” She cried out, afraid that he might untie her; break the scene.

“So you want to go ahead?” He asked again.

“Yes.” Her answer was stronger this time, more confident of her decision. “Yes I want to do it.”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled back her head roughly. “Yes, what!?” He snapped at her.

“Master.” She added hurriedly. “Yes master I want to do it.” Her voice had lost its confidence, given it up willingly as she submitted to him again.



He loosened her bonds and removed the blindfold. “Get dressed slut! We are going for a walk.” He announced and threw her a dress. While Janice struggled to get into her clothes, he selected a pair of shoes for her. Sneakers, she noted as she slipped them on, not heels as usual. “You will need safe footing today.” He explained.

She adjusted her dress and peeked at the accessories he had selected for her. The scarf, of course, to cover her collar and a pair of stylish shades. Nothing else. No plugs, no clamps, no remote controlled toys.

Janice trembled in anticipation. What the hell did he have planned for her? Humiliation and pain she could cope with but the unexpected scared her.
Master always did the unexpected.

“As you seem to have a problem with trust, it’s the theme of today’s exercise.” He explained.

As she put on the shades, the world went dark. They were completely opaque and a thin rim of black foam prevented any light from entering on the side.


He ignored the elevator and slowly led her down the stairs instead to let her become accustomed to her condition. The stairs seemed steep and narrow; when they finally reached the ground floor, Janice was shaking. They left the house and started walking.

She wanted to move slowly, let her feet test the ground before placing her weight on it but he wouldn’t allow it. He demanded what felt like a brisk pace to her but was actually more like a slow walk. At first, he had held her close but now he walked her at arms length, no longer steadying her. She learned quickly to obey his commands without thinking: the one time she had hesitated, master had almost ripped out her arm to rescue her from a head on collision with a streetlamp. It was only a short walk but to Janice it seemed to take forever. Soon, she had lost all orientation; only her master’s voice guided her on.

The roar of traffic became louder and louder. He had to raise his voice to make himself understood. The noise was deafening: They had to be closing in on a highway of some kind. Suddenly, he gave the command to stop. “We cross the road here, slave.” He announced. “It’s four lanes in each direction at sixty miles an hour, so you better obey my commands to the letter. There is a traffic isle in the middle where we can rest.” He paused for a short moment to let her realize what he had just said.

“Ready?” He asked.

All her senses screamed ‘No’ but when the command came she started walking. He stopped her again and she could feel the draft lift her dress as a truck passed them by. There was a horn blaring in the distance. She staggered on, her ears focused only on her masters voice. It was as if she was floating above the hectic noise of traffic, serene. Her life in his hands.

“Take a breath!” He ordered. “We are halfway there.” Cold sweat was flowing down her sides but her mind was soaring. If she could do this, then nothing could scare her anymore.

He let go of her trembling hand. “Ready?” He asked.

“No!” She screamed over the traffic noise. “Please, master, lead me all the way!” She pleaded.

His answer was a single word. “Go!”

The world became a blur of sound and action again. A brisk walk, followed by a sudden stop between the lanes. The thundering roar of a trailer. Her hand futilely grasping thin air, searching for his. Then a short run, followed by another stop. The blare of a horn. A last spurt and finally, relief.

Her legs gave way as he took hold of her again; her entire body was trembling and her skin was wet with sweat. She pressed against him, searching for comfort. He practically carried her along. Away from the overpass they had just crossed.

He always led her all the way.



Satan_Klaus

[anonymouse]

Oh my! Those last few paragraphs really got my pulse racing. Well done, Satan_Klaus.

There were lots of nice little touches throughout. I've always loved scarves and have had to use them in just the way you mentioned. The blindfold/glasses are inventive, yet practical and not likely to draw attention.

anonymouse

PS: It just occured to me that I didn't notice the penultimate line (Away from the overpass, etc.) My mind was still down there in the traffic, just as your character's mind was. Powerful writing

[Rhabbi]

Great story, especially the last part. I loved the way he used the traffic sounds and his words to let her think she was in danger when she was not.

[Dragon's muse]

Now that is a twisty ending. Excellent characterization and marvelous use of imagery. i could feel her ambivalent frustration at the beginning and the sweet relief of submission at the end. Her fear and exhiliration during the crossing were palpable. Janice has indeed crossed a barrier. Wonderful, wonderful.

Blind trust

Janice sat on the hard wooden bench. She was blindfolded and her hands were bound behind her. Hot breath stirred the tendrils of hair that hung near her ear; a low voice rumbled, "Relax. Trust me."

He embraced her from behind, pressing his body against hers. “You want this, don’t you?” he asked, gently cupping her breasts, feeling for her racing heartbeat. His hands slowly moved down her shivering belly then spread out over her inner thighs. Suddenly, he tightened his grip on her, forcefully spreading her legs apart. “Don’t you, slut?” he hissed into her ear with a sudden hardness in his voice. Janice gave a soft cry of surprise and curled up as far as her bonds and his firm hands would allow.

“Y-yes?” More a question then an answer. How could she want and not want something so much at the same time?

“Trust your feelings!” he said kindly, taking hold of her again, his hands caressing her softly. His embrace was firm, but not crushing: possessive and protective at the same time. He slowly stroked her, down and up and down again, encircling her pussy but never touching it, gently coaxing her thoughts where he wanted her to go.

It was true, she wanted this, wanted to surrender to him fully. Trust him blindly. Be his property. But she was also afraid; afraid of what she would have to do this time. His ‘exercises’ pushed her limits further every time. They left her sore and red all over. They left her shamed and humiliated. They reduced her to a crying heap of submissive goo seeking shelter in her master’s arms. They left her wanting for more.

“You can still turn back.” he said, his hands moving to where her wrists were tied together with a piece of rope. “Noo!” She cried out, afraid that he might untie her; break the scene.

“So you want to go ahead?” He asked again.

“Yes.” Her answer was stronger this time, more confident of her decision. “Yes I want to do it.”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled back her head roughly. “Yes, what!?” He snapped at her.

“Master.” She added hurriedly. “Yes, master, I want to do it.” Her voice had lost its confidence, given it up willingly as she submitted to him again.



He loosened her bonds and removed the blindfold. “Get dressed, slut! We are going for a walk.” He announced and threw her a dress. While Janice struggled to get into her clothes, he selected a pair of shoes for her. Sneakers, she noted as she slipped them on, not heels as usual. “You will need safe footing today.” He explained.

She adjusted her dress and peeked at the accessories he had selected for her. The scarf, of course, to cover her collar and a pair of stylish shades. Nothing else. No plugs, no clamps, no remote controlled toys.

Janice trembled in anticipation. What the hell did he have planned for her? Humiliation and pain she could cope with but the unexpected scared her.
Master always did the unexpected.

“As you seem to have a problem with trust, it’s the theme of today’s exercise.” he explained.

As she put on the shades, the world went dark. They were completely opaque and a thin rim of black foam prevented any light from entering on the sides.


He ignored the elevator and slowly led her down the stairs instead, to let her become accustomed to her condition. The stairs seemed steep and narrow; when they finally reached the ground floor, Janice was shaking. They left the house and started walking.

She wanted to move slowly, let her feet test the ground before placing her weight on it but he wouldn’t allow it. He demanded what felt like a brisk pace to her but was actually more like a slow walk. At first, he had held her close but now he walked her at arms length, no longer steadying her. She learned quickly to obey his commands without thinking: the one time she had hesitated, master had almost ripped out her arm to rescue her from a head on collision with a streetlamp. It was only a short walk but to Janice it seemed to take forever. Soon, she had lost all orientation; only her master’s voice guided her on.

The roar of traffic became louder and louder. He had to raise his voice to make himself understood. The noise was deafening: They had to be closing in on a highway of some kind. Suddenly, he gave the command to stop. “We cross the road here, slave.” he announced. “It’s four lanes in each direction at sixty miles an hour, so you better obey my commands to the letter. There is a traffic isle in the middle where we can rest.” He paused for a short moment to let her realize what he had just said.

“Ready?” He asked.

All her senses screamed ‘No’, but when the command came she started walking. He stopped her again and she could feel the draft lift her dress as a truck passed them by. There was a horn blaring in the distance. She staggered on, her ears focused only on her master's voice. It was as if she was floating above the hectic noise of traffic, serene. (change to a comma) her life in his hands.

“Take a breath!” he ordered. “We are halfway there.” Cold sweat was flowing down her sides but her mind was soaring. If she could do this, then nothing could scare her anymore.

He let go of her trembling hand. “Ready?” He asked.

“No!” she screamed over the traffic noise. “Please, master, lead me all the way!” she pleaded.

His answer was a single word. “Go!”

The world became a blur of sound and action again. A brisk walk, followed by a sudden stop between the lanes. The thundering roar of a trailer. Her hand futilely grasping thin air, searching for his. Then a short run, followed by another stop. The blare of a horn. A last spurt and finally, relief.

Her legs gave way as he took hold of her again; her entire body was trembling and her skin was wet with sweat. She pressed against him, searching for comfort. He practically carried her along. Away from the overpass they had just crossed.

He always led her all the way.



Satan_Klaus