For a whole day he didn’t tell her what the price would be. She paced the house in an agony of suspense. At last came the instructions. She was to strip naked and clamp herself, putting the fierce little Japanese clover clamps on her nipples, and then attaching the big steel clamp he had bought for her cunt, which pressed the labia tightly together like a vice. She must sit for half an hour, meditating on the nature of obedience. Well before the end it felt as if red-hot needles were piercing her nipples, while her cunt ached most awfully. She had to send him messages as she sat, to convince him, as he said, that she was in a penitent frame of mind. Right at the end, he had said put a clothes pin on your clit. She had nearly fainted with the pain. At last he let her take the things off. She had to get down on her knees, face to the ground, naked ass stuck up in the air, and thank him out loud for her punishment. It sounded silly, speaking to an empty room, but she did it anyway. Then he told her, no orgasms for a week. Every day afterwards he’d tormented her, making her use her fingers or a vibrator to bring herself to the brink of a climax, then stop. By the end of the week she was almost out of her mind with longing. Then Master had told her she might fuck Richard again. But only on certain conditions.
“What conditions?” she had asked. Richard was good-looking and attentive, lively company. She needed a friend, needed a man for sex. Woman cannot live online alone, she told herself. She’d submit to any conditions.
“After every sexual encounter you will provide me with a full and detailed account. I want to know exactly what you did, which positions you adopted for intercourse, whether fellatio or cunnilingus took place, how long you fucked, whether you came. You will award each session a numerical rating out of five.”
It excited her, the idea of fucking under licence. Yet it was shaming, in a way. Was it fair to Richard that his actions should be described with such intimacy to another man, one of whose existence he was completely ignorant? How would she feel if she were herself used in this way?
“Must I tell?” she asked. “Really, I don’t feel comfortable about that.”
But she knew the answer. The conditions were not negotiable. Well, she thought to herself, Richard will never know, so it cannot hurt him. And I need this, I need it so, not just the companionship of a real man in my life, but even more the dictation of my actions by a stern Master. The more he regulates me the greater my pleasure. To rebuff his orders would be unthinkable now.
So that weekend she fucked Richard again and thoroughly enjoyed it. In a way it was refreshing to indulge in some vanilla sex, a cooling draught after the steamy heat of her email sessions with Master. Richard was a skilled and energetic lover, but she knew even after the first encounter that he would never engage her in anything that deviated from the straight and narrow. Once she realised that, she could accept it. It was tempting to daydream that suddenly Richard might transform himself into a strict disciplinarian and beat her black and blue. But she knew it would never happen. One day, she mused to herself, it might happen with Master. Until that time she must be content. Still feeling a little guilty, she had emailed Master a detailed report of this sexual encounter.
She had been looking forward to her date this evening, her third with Richard. They planned dinner in his local restaurant, a very high-class establishment, and then they’d go back to his place and she’d stay the night. She could hear the keen disappointment in his voice when she told him she’d have to cancel, though he was too well-mannered to complain. I’ll make it up to you, she said, with a throaty chuckle. I’ll hold you to that, he replied. He wanted to know how long she’d be away and was perplexed at her vagueness.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s business,” she said. “Tell you all about it when I get back.”