The story of Mirja...Wanda sees her... thinking to herself... there's something mystical about this girl, as she feels a remarkable and insatiable fascination. Uncontrollably, she follows her at a discreet distance. When the girl disappears around a corner, Mirja walks faster, her blood pounding in her temples. Immediately her eyes lock on the flying blonde hair, and she slows down again. Suddenly the girl stops and turns around - Mirja stops.. standing, smooth and still as glass, her tongue feels like a piece of sandpaper in her mouth... a red and pliable mouth, which curls upwards in the softest of smiles, leading her thoughts to... Mirja's hand reaches up, covering her own mouth, startled, she blushes crimson red: why do these kinds of thoughts fill her mind? Watching this sweet girl, who turns around to cross the street. An unknown forcebeckoning to her, in the middle of the town, as she follows the young woman. Why is she following her? She feels like a spy, a shadow... but an inexpressible compulsion drives her, she can't let go, it's like the girl radiates a will saying "follow me" -and Mirja obeys. The blonde girl turns into an alley and then through a yard, which leads to another darker yard. Mirja is only a few steps behind her, dwelling in the shadows of the yard. With red cheeks she holds her breath, while the girl walks a few steps down a stairway, and bends slightly to open a door, her long hair falling down over her shoulder, a delicate white neck showing. Mirja is so close behind, so close - she can feel the warmth from the other's body... everything turning black for a moment... Standing there, the girl looks at Mirja with aquamarinblue eyes, friendly, but amazingly direct. Mirja turns away, puzzled by her gaze, but in the same moment feels a hand, softly touching her face. "Look at me", the girl says. "Look at me, please. I know you know me". Mirja wants to speak, a overwhelming emotion making a path through her inner self, getting stuck in her throat, she cannot speak. Her dry, cracked lips moving in despair, as not a single word escapes them. "You don't have to say anything. I know already. Come". And she presses a chilly, moist kiss on Mirja's burning lips. Her hair glittering as spun gold. Mirja follows her. The basement is damp and half dark -it takes a while until she can adjust her eyes in the flickering light. In the meantime, the girl moved closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, speaking softly to her: "There's one thing you have to know, Mirja. When You have decided to stay, You cannot leave. I know You understand". Her voice is so soft, so comforting.... She smiles. Mirja doesn't even think it's strange that this young woman calls her by name, and seems to know her -the only thing she can do, is manage to stare spellbound into the open, her eyes wide. "You can still walk away. But You have to choose now". The words strike her hard as though hitting her solar plexus, but it is like, they're wrapped in the girl's wonderful smile, and packed into the most exquisite and beautiful giftbox, and Mirja shakes her head, she's broken into pieces: "I'll stay". The woman's smile is softer now, almost weak, she pulls a chair over to Mirja, pushing her down on it, and with a gaze that is suddenly icy blue, she says: "Sit here and be still". She's then moves to the other side of the elliptical almost dark basement, disappearing. Mirja remains obediently seated, while her heart pounds in her chest. Her stomach turning, she looks around with panic in her eyes, maybe there's a toilet in here, she sees none. Only her hartbeats and her naked, helpless self, surrounding her. One of the long walls is fitted with a large mirror, which Mirja lays her eyes on for the first time. She can't see herself, as she is seated down in one of the corners of the room. But she sees the girl with the blonde hair, standing in the middle of the room, as if she has sunk deeply into herself.. She no longer sees Mirja, she has become, invisible, non-existing, and is standing facing the mirror. She has begun to remove her clothes. Her slow and sensual movements making Mirja tremble, she feels her breasts hardening, her nipples straightening out in the air. Wondering what's going to happen? She wants to ask, before the creeping emotion of seriousness gets to her, but her lips are silent. Only her eyes see, watching intently. Suddenly there's a man. Mirja can't see His looks. He doesn't see her as he moves toward the girl, who's stands quiet, naked, still, with her eyes to the floor before her. Mirja looks at her slender, soft womanly curves, her white skin, her breasts, her legs, asscheeks, and thighs, paleness, velvetness.... The man stands behind the girl -His hand moving out to her chin and lifting her face, so their shining eyes meet in the mirror before them. Both are smiling. He turns her around and they look into each others faces. In a single moment, his hand rises and falls with a hard slap in her face, making her sink to her knees. "Whore!". An electric shock rushes through Mirja. He turns around and stands a few steps away from the girl with his back to her. She remains on her knees, implacable, an almost invisible shivering trembling through the body. Wanda feels sick, helpless, a feverish heat rushing through her veins - her hands firmly clasped around, pressed into the chair.. both her hands.. knuckles tensed and white, locked up in fear. A strange feeling haunting her, she doesn't know what's happening. The vulgar word, Whore! Her heart beating in her body, but her tear-filled eyes don't close. The unknown man turned around towards the girl. He slowly and deliberately releases His belt, taking it off and rolling it one time around His hand. "Come", he says to the girl, who immediately moves at his command, crawling sensually on hands and knees, slowly, gliding like a big, glistening cat, over to Him and stops by his feet, waiting, with her head bowed. He lifts his belt. Mirja gasps. Instantly, the belt moving through the air, strikes down upon on the white ass cheek of the girl, with a swishing sound and a loud smack, leaving a red fiery mark -the girl moans, biting her lip together, but maintaining her position. The colour in Mirja's face is a deep dark red, she wants to rise and run over to the woman, help her,save her from this brutal man, who again lifts the belt, readying for another strike..... her legs are heavy as lead, her arms trembling weakly within the desperate grasp of the chair....she cannot rise. Another swishing sound through the air, followed by a hard smack, the girl's body snatches a trace, but she holds on. He raises His hand and hits her hard, systematically, the muscles in His upper arm moving, constantly,like a machine, again and again -the girl moaning slowly. On her ass, a crisscrossed net of red, swollen stripes,softly shaded in blue, slowly blossoms and grows. Mirja stops thinking..unable to do anything.. except watch. Fascinated as she stares at the girl,submitting to the Man's hits so naturally, so obvious... She squirms on the chair, uncontrollably, her mouth half openand her palms wet. The Man stops the hitting, unzipping His pants and pulls His hard cock out. He takes a firm grasp in the girl's hair, her lovely, blonde hair, and pulls her head backwards,arching her whole body, now resting on knees and heels.. her hands on the thighs. With Her head turned upwards, He grabs her neck firmly in His large hands, His strong fingers wrapped around her white,delicate neck. Mirja sees her face with the closed eyes, her cheeks and lips glowing,as she never have seen in any face before, the firm breasts protruding straight out into the air. Mirja thinks admiringly...She's beautiful,incomprehensibly beautiful. The Man forcing her head towards His sex, pressing His erect cock in between her dark red lips. "Suck", He demands. Her head moving, faster and faster, in short strokes. Mirja imagines,how she's letting her tongue glide around and under the sleek, smooth head, how she tightens her lips around the cock and taking it,swallowing it deep down her throat, all the way to the end,until the lips touch the balls...and again sucking in and out..faster..in..out..moaning around it... He's letting His arms drop to His sides, His hands clenched in a fist, and every muscle on His bared chest,tensed - He tilts His neck slightly and sighs. Mirja sees His face for the first time, a naked face, a strong and handsome face. And she thinking He reminds her of somebody. He looks like an anicent Greek God,as He stands there, with each and every muscle tensed in His strong firm body, as ready as a large animal before the hunt begins. The girl's sucking, fast and focused now - a drop of perspiration running from the Man's forehead down over His chin, a slight shiver wandering over His face, He's close to cumming. "Stop!" He hisses, and she obeys immediately. She's sitting with her eyes down, until the Man slowly bends down and kneels before her, then she lifts her eyes and looks calmly into His eyes... He smiles, moving His hands around her body to her back, collecting her hands together and strapping them firmly in a safe grip by the belt, her back is straightened, and her nipples poking out, hard and hotpink. He reaches out both His hands, strong, masculin hands, and holding them out towards her, taking her beautiful pink buds between His fingers, twisting, and suddenly pinching, hard, precisely, both at the exact same moment -the girl moans deeply, painfully, but she remains seated, still, so serene and straight. He eases His fingers around her nipples, giving her a moment to breathe, then He pinches them again and holding hard, a moment longer, seeming like an eternity. When He finally releases her nipples, she gasps for breathe, as a tear falls upon the smooth cheek. It has to hurt like hell. Mirja's nipples are erect, and a pulsing raging fire has grown in her most secret places between her legs. There's silence for about five seconds, then He pinches the girl again;this time she throw her head back, and a short jagged scream escapes from her closed lips, He's watching her, listening to her and retains His grip on her nipples until her scream fades out. After easing His grip for the last time, He's glances briefly at His victim - Mirja thinks she sees a light shiver along His jaw muscle. He rises quickly, lifting the girl with Him by one of her bonded arms. The girl standing for a moment, uncertain, shaking on her legs, then after a deep breathe, she again straightens her back.... meeting His gaze, , which has now darkened. He speaks slowly, confident: "What was it I heard? a scream?" The girl's eyes turning again to the ground. A "Yes" is heard, almost silently. "Are you no longer My slave ?" "Yes..." "Yes what? Answer! Loud and clear!" His voice coming as whiplashes in the silence. "Yes, i'm Your slave." The girl's voice is weak but clear. He's looking at her with a new sparkle in His eyes. "Legs apart and bend down" Mirja watches, with rebellious spirits in her soul, how the girl submits to her Master, and obeys. Her long slender legs, stretched wide apart, out to either side, her sensuous suppleness making her head almost touch the floor. The Man moves into the shadows of a wall. The time's passing. Mirja's fighting with a fear in her throat,staring spellbound through the pulsing thick air, waiting. Suffering, together with the girl in her uncomfortable position. Suddenly He's there again.... with a whip. Some kind of multilashed cat with a short handle and lashes of leather, they are smooth and heavy enough to hurt. He guides the whip, letting it slide in between her ass cheeks, speaking: "What's happens to little slavegirls, which don't behave properly?". The girls answer, low, from her bent position: "They are punished". "Exactly", He responds, "and now it's time for your wet little cunt to taste this whip. Not a sound! Still! and Quiet!". He pulls His arm back, quickly brings it forward, letting the leather lashes sweep in between her legs,striking her mound, her most secret and treasured of places. Not a single sound comes from her. Not from his second hit. Nor from the next, or the next..... Mirja rises. Her legs trembling underneath her, she sees red, blue, black dots before her eyes -swirling...and through the clouds, the darkness, far away, she hears a voice, saying: "Do you love Me?" and then another, a woman's voice, softly responding: "Yes". She feels something wet on her cheek and lifts her face. It's her own, not gray-blue but clearly sky-blue eyes, staring back at her from the mirror. The veil is gone, and she's crying: her naked body shaking with the cry, which has been locked up inside her for all these years, all this time. The resistance, the fear, the shyness and embarassment is gone. The girl's gone too. It's only her, Mirja, with hair as spun gold. And He, who's gaze she knows. He comes out from the gray shadows of the wall, looking at her, sees her and she Him. They don't speak. He's loosing up the belt which holding her wrists, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Come", He whispers leading her to another room. A small room, where the sunbeams falling in on the comforting bed. She hardly notices as He pulls the covers away and places her upon it. Her gaze sinking into His, drowning, until His head disappears between her legs, her wide spread legs. His neck is at the same time strong and smooth -her fingertips playing gently over it. Her cunt's on fire, and as His tongue dances over it, like a bright flame wandering over her mound, gliding, rocking, diving,lifting,rising as a ship on a storm-tossed ocean. A giant wave rising and approacing, raging, engulfing, swallowing... like a the hurricane... taking her to a higher ground. She screams out His name, and everything is still... calm... peace... tranquil... total serenity..... |