by Richmond
My Master’s Playroom
“I’m just going out to run some errands,” I tell you, punctuating it with a soft kiss. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Oh, and don’t go in the playroom.” And with that, I’m gone.
You lie back on the bed, already counting the minutes until I return. Even though you miss your Master, sometimes you enjoy having the house to yourself. You rise and go to the kitchen to get yourself some water.
You wonder quietly why I would tell you to stay out of the computer room. You know I’ve been doing something in there, but you assumed I was just putting in some new shelves or something. Oh well, you think, Master will tell you soon enough.
That thought leaves you when you see the computer on its desk in the living room.
What happened to the computer room? What am I doing in there? Curious, you go back to the hallway, passing the door to the basement, past the bedroom, to the closed door of the computer room. What’s hidden in there? Overcome with curiosity, you decide to tempt fate by looking inside. Slowly you grip the handle and push the door open to the playroom.
This is not a simple computer room anymore.
You remember me mentioning that I’d have a surprise for you soon, but you never imagined this. My old office has been turned into an erotic playground, a playroom where we can spend endless hours. Shelves line the walls, stocked with sexy toys that boggle the imagination.
Fascinated, you look around. Candles dot every available surface, patiently waiting to be lit. On one shelf are a dazzling array of dildos. Some small, some large, some realistic, some almost disturbing. Another wall contains a dizzying assortment of floggers: whips, paddles, riding crops, bamboo canes (you shudder, remembering your caning in the basement), and several leather straps of various sizes and thicknesses. Still another shelf holds restraint devices, from leather manacles with buckles to fur-lined ankle restraints…even a pair of intimidating-looking police issue handcuffs.
You open the playroom closet door: hanging up are several beautiful, sexy outfits, ranging from elegant dresses to uncomfortable looking leather contraptions. A dresser stands to the side; you open it and find it stocked with gorgeous lingerie. Everything from white cotton panties to silk teddies to rubber corsets. One entire drawer is filled with masks and blindfolds.
A mini-fridge sits on top of the dresser. A fridge? In here? You think to yourself. You open it, and a sly smile crosses your lips.
Inside is one perfectly chilled bottle of Sambuka.
Grinning lustily, you open the bottle and pour a shot into one of the glasses sitting on top of the fridge. You know I told you not to even come in here, let alone go poking around, but really, one shot…
You lick your lips, close your eyes, and down the shot in one gulp. You keep your eyes closed as a wave of warmth washes over you. Your lips part and a soft moan escapes you as the liquor takes effect. Still holding the bottle, you sit on the black leather couch and look around.
You marvel at the amount of effort your Master has gone to to provide us a place to play. No expense has been spared, no corner cut to bring this perverted wonderland to life. The playroom furniture especially impresses you…
Of course a pair of wrist restraints dangles from the ceiling. And you notice that I brought the wooden frame up from the basement. But what really impresses you is the strange, custom made apparatus in the center of the room.
It consists of a padded table, a little higher than your waist, inclined slightly. At the head end is a contraption like a medieval stock; a simple wooden plank, with notches for your wrists, and a matching plank hinged at the end, so that when the contraption is closed your arms will be immobile. You note that the only locking mechanism is a simple, self locking latch. Very simple, but very effective. At the other end, a set of stirrups, like you would find at an obstetrician, rises from the base of the playroom table.
The whole thing is extremely strange looking, but intrigues you. Maybe it’s the liquor, maybe it’s just the ambience, or maybe it’s both, but you find yourself getting more and more excited by the moment. You have hours; you decide to give it a try.
After setting the bottle on the floor, you climb onto the table. You find that with your head at one end, the other end stops just at your waist, leaving everything from there down hanging off the end. You swing your legs up into the stirrups; like this, your ass and pussy are suspended in the air, easily accessible for…well, just about anything the Master likes. It’s actually rather comfortable.
You reach down and pick up the Sambuka off the floor. This time, you take a sip straight from the bottle, shuddering slightly as the warm liquid burns down your throat. You feel extremely aroused now, very warm, and more than a little tipsy. You set the bottle down and lie back on the padded table, wishing against all odds that your Master was here, right now, lavishing his attention on you. You find yourself moaning at the thought, and quietly slip a hand down to play with your pussy. When you touch yourself, you are surprised to find how wet you are.
Yes, it’s an odd, but exciting setup. You wonder how it will feel, having your hands restrained, writhing helplessly while I touch you…and spank you…and…curious, you raise your hands behind you, placing them in the openings in the bottom half of the stock.
That’s when it happens.
You don’t know how; maybe you jostled something, maybe the hinge is loose, but you watch, horrified, in slow motion, as the top half of the stock swings down and closes tight over your wrists. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the latch close, and then you are trapped.
Your heart and mind race. You’re alone, immobilized, and horny as hell. And you dread what will happen when your Master comes home and finds that you disobeyed him…
Your eyes open with a start as you realize you fell asleep. Night has fallen; you must have been asleep for several hours. From your limited viewpoint the playroom appears empty.
Thank god, you think. Maybe I can find a way out of this before Master gets home.
Suddenly you feel my fingertips brushing against your nose.
“Touch your nose.”
You jump and squeal, startled. I come around to where you can see me, my arms folded, a stern look on my face. You look up at me, frightened and ashamed.
“Anything you want to say for yourself?” I ask. You shake your head sadly and lower your eyes. “I wanted this to be a surprise,” I tell you, a note of regret in my voice. You see me bend down and pick up the open sambuka bottle, sighing. You say nothing in response, just close your eyes sadly, your heart filled with regret at disappointing your Master. To your surprise, you feel a tear trickle down your cheek. Then my hand is on your cheek, softly caressing you, my touch comforting you. “Don’t cry,” I tell you, “I will forgive you.” The burden on your heart lifts a bit, and you open your eyes. There’s something about the smile forming on my face…
“Of course, you did disobey me,” I continue, “which means there should be a punishment.”
You moan quietly, again regretting disappointing me. You watch, resigned, as I grab the cat o nine tails off the wall. You steel yourself as I swing the cat across your exposed ass, leaving red lines from the sting of the tails.
In this position, almost all of you is accessible to the touch of the cat. I swing again and again, delivering stinging lashes to your ass, thighs, stomach, and breasts. Once, I even stand between your legs and sting straight down, brushing the soft leather tails against your still-wet pussy. It stings, but it’s a treatment you’re used to, and soon you find yourself able to lose yourself in your Master’s discipline-and besides, you know from experience that a good flogging is usually followed by passionate lovemaking.
Sure enough, soon I set the riding crop down and begin caressing your red, swollen breasts. You close your eyes and moan softly, relieved at my loving touch. Saying nothing, I brush my hand down your stomach, and then you let out a relieved sigh as you feel my fingers in your pussy.
This is what you’ve been waiting for; after being trapped and horny for hours in the playroom you long for the release of an orgasm. My fingers slide deep into you, exciting your pussy anew. Gasping for air, you grind your hips against my hand, feeling yourself slide closer to the brink, closer, closer…
“Don’t come,” I tell you sternly.
Jerked back to reality, your eyes snap open and you stare up at me.
“You disobeyed your Master and ruined the surprise. For disappointing me, you will not come until I specifically order you to. That will be your punishment.”
Again I wiggle my fingers inside you, sending a wave of warmth through you. Then I pull my hand away, leaving you gasping and still unfulfilled.
The next few hours are the worst. To my credit, I don’t leave you alone in such a helpless position; I stay in the room with you, leaving only to get you food and water, which I serve to you like a luxurious breakfast in bed. Occasionally I sit on the leather couch, reading a book. Other times I sit next to you, reading passages to you from my unfinished novel. But two things I won’t do; I won’t release you from your bondage, and I won’t grant you the release of an orgasm.
It’s been hours now since you were locked in the device, and your arms are starting to ache. Ever since you woke up, you’ve felt a dull ache in your pussy, a longing for your Master to make love to you and let you come again and again, relieving the unfulfilled desire. This ache is at it’s worst when, after a few hours, I pull up the chair next to you.
You expect another reading from my novel, and smile slightly. To your surprise, though, I hold my mouth mere inches from your ear, and begin whispering extremely provocative dirty talk to you. I start by reminiscing about some of our best times together. I go into graphic detail about all the times I’ve worked over your back and legs with the riding crop. Or the sensation of licking your sweet pussy, tasting your juices dribbling down my face. I talk about your night in the cage in the basement, and how it made me feel, seeing your absolute submission to me.
My voice in your ear sends electric shocks through you, and you feel a warmth rising from your pussy again. You writhe on the bench, desperately wishing for my touch. I begin talking about all the things I’d still like to do, weaving an erotic tapestry in your mind; scenes I’d like to play out, positions I’d like to see you in, even toys I’d like to use. At one point I get up and bring over a dildo you saw on the shelf. It’s very disturbing; ten inches long, four inches around, covered with soft rubber spikes and with a skull on the end. Your eyes widen at the sight.
“Maybe I should use this one on you,” I say. “Mind you, this one would probably hurt. If I used this you probably wouldn’t be able to come.” You moan helplessly as I begin teasing your pussy with the dildo of doom. You feel the hard plastic skull on you, feel the soft rubber spikes tickling your thighs.
“No, I’ll save this for sometime when you’ve been REALLY bad,” I say, smiling cruelly. You breathe a sigh of relief as I get up and put it back on the shelf. I come back over and sit down next to you.
“Poor thing,” I purr softly in your ear. “You’d really like me to fuck you silly, wouldn’t you.”
You nod desperately. “Yes, Master, please, more than anything.”
I smile wickedly. “Maybe later,” I say. But my hand is once again between your legs, softly massaging your aching clit. You feel your juices dripping onto my hand, and you feel an orgasm approaching, but, in obedience to your Master, you hold it back, though the effort is overwhelming.
Then you feel my finger against your lips. You eagerly suck at it, tasting yourself on my skin. You moan, longing desperately for release. “I’m sorry for disobeying you, Master,” you sigh, “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
I say nothing, just smile again and slip a blindfold over your eyes. You moan again as your world goes black. You can see nothing, and hear nothing except my footsteps, and can feel nothing except the numbness in your arms and the bench under your back.
Then, a sudden, intrusive pressure as I slip a soft plastic dildo into you. You squeal as it slides all the way in, grinding your hips, your body trembling. Will this torment ever end?
Slowly you become aware of music playing and realize that you fell asleep again. You are still in the restraints and the dildo is still inside you, but the blindfold is gone. The room is empty, and the first rays of sunlight are creeping in. The music is your favorite Whitesnake CD; you smile, despite your predicament. You lift your head to look around, and find a note in my handwriting taped to your leg.
“Let me know when you wake up,” the note says.
You lean your head back and close your eyes. How long will this go on? You lick your dry lips and call my name.
A moment later, I appear in the doorway of the playroom. “Sleep well?” I inquire casually. You nod demurely. “I released your arms when you went to sleep,” I tell you. “I didn’t want you to lose circulation. I made sure to lock them up before I went to bed, though.”
“Thank you Master,” you respond quietly.
“I imagine you’d like to get out of there, though” I continue.
You say nothing, just nod, keeping your eyes downward. I step over to you and caress your cheek softly.
“You’re doing fine,” I tell you. “Very soon, my beloved slave.”
Your spirits are lifted a bit by my loving words, and you hope that soon I’ll take mercy on you and decide your punishment has gone on long enough. You wriggle a bit, feeling the slight pressure of the dildo inside you.
Quietly, I retrieve a leather strap from the wall. I snap it in the air experimentally once. The sound sends a fresh chill down your spine.
I swing the strap underhanded, smacking your exposed ass. You squeal and jerk, the dildo sending a shiver through you. Several more sharp smacks follow, the strap warming your backside and legs. I swing the crop overhand, letting it fall across your breasts. Soon, you feel yourself getting dizzy from the attention, a feeling of floating overtaking you. You close your eyes, your screams mixing with the sound of the strap hitting your skin and with the music.
Your eyes remain closed as you feel me pull the dildo out of you with one quick yank. You gasp at the sensation; by now your pussy is sensitive and throbbing. Before you can recover, though, you feel my cock, sliding into you with one quick motion. You gasp and squeal, afraid you won’t be able to hold back. The feeling is almost too intense as I begin thrusting furiously in and out of you. Electric shocks course through your body as every nerve ending screams in unfulfilled desire.
The feelings are so intense that you almost miss it when I look down at you and whisper, “now”
A second later you feel my come shooting into you. Relief mixes with pleasure as you surrender and allow the orgasm to come. Wave after wave of warmth washes over you; you lift your feet out of the stirrups and wrap them around me, your body locking, sweat pouring off you.
As soon as the last of my come drains into you, you feel my mouth on you, licking at you, tasting your freely-flowing juices. It’s almost too much for you, going from famine to feast in a matter of minutes. The second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave and you black out again…
When you come to, you realize you’re in bed, lying on your side. I’m lying next to you, my arms around you protectively, both of us covered in warm blankets. Despite the warmth, you find yourself still shivering. The feeling has come back into your arms; you wrap them around me and give me a grateful kiss. I sigh and smile lightly in my sleep. You nuzzle against me, my skin warm against yours, and blissfully go back to sleep..
