Act 4, Scene 2: Of bondage and mind games

Mistress A ordered him to stand up and to take a step back, positioning him under the winch system, and to raise his hands. After getting him to grab the handles that were part of the leather restraints for his hands, she proceeded to secure his hands to the long bar, likely around 24 inches, that was attached to the winch cable. She reached back to activate the winch and pulled his hands a bit higher. Mistress A then placed a spreader bar between his feet, maybe 30 inches long or so, and cuffed his feet to the bar. Naked and bound in such a manner, he had flashbacks to some of the covers of the old Centurian publications of the late 70s and early 80s. It occurred to him at that moment how far he had come on his journey, held in bondage in a position he had fantasized about for decades. He felt at that moment a warm rush come over his body once more, and ironically, somehow felt liberated as he resigned himself to his situation in the care of his mistress.

Not yet satisfied with her handiwork, Mistress A brought out what had to be the heaviest posture collar he had ever seen, and placed it around his neck. It was very rigid and constraining, and it limited his head movement, and yet, he found it very comfortable and supportive of his head. As he was slowly slipping into a different state of mind, he could not tell anymore if he appreciated the posture collar because of how well it was designed, or if it was that special and secure feeling he had when in bondage at the hand of skilled and irresistible mistress. Edgy as he was when he showed up and the session started, and somewhat unnerved at the beginning by the prospects Mistress A had promised him, there was no tension anymore in his body or his mind. Secure in bondage, intoxicated by her words and her attitude, he could let go completely and let his mind run in a place where submission is freedom and dominance is caring.

Walking around to the other side of him, Mistress A retrieved a flogger from one of the pegs that held so many wonderful implements of torment and pleasure. She started flogging him lightly with what felt to him like a horsehair flogger. The sensation was very fine, very stringy, and occasionally stingy on some strokes. She worked most of his back with this fine flogger, providing somewhat of a warm-up for what was to come.

She switched to what felt to him like a single-tail for a few strokes around his butt and back of thighs, and then Mistress A moved on to a flogger with thicker strands. She worked him over with this one for a while. It’s a good thing he wasn’t asked to count strokes… his eyes closed during the flogging, he had lost his focus on everything but her voice as he was sinking into subspace. He couldn’t really remember how much of each type of flogger she used, or where they landed, although he did remember Mistress A telling him to stick his ass out once or twice. Not that he wasn’t feeling the strokes… but their effects were more general than localized, serving as a rhythmic counterpoint to her voice. Her voice was his only hold on reality at that point, her firm, haughty, condescending voice that was teasing him, making fun of him, making fun of him for some of the things he had done in the past, and making fun of him for what she was still going to do during the course of the evening.

The strokes stopped. The bass line of the flogging to the siren-sound of her voice came to an end, and this jarred him back to closer to reality. Mistress A stepped back closer to him, and temporarily turning her attention to his nipples, tweaked them, and held on to them as she ordered him to turn around to face the other way, in the direction of the bondage bed. Now satisfied that he was in the next position for her to continue, she reached over into one of her drawers of surprises...