arriving before the guests arrive.....putting out refreshments. . .trays of fresh fruit...cheeses...breads......lovely smells filling the room.......preparing to light candles all about.....selecting the music. . .hmmmm...thinking about it....several types of wine. . .chilled and room temperature......making sure there are pillows everywhere. . ........gifts for the O/owners of the Nest.....three boxes...SSd, Morgana and Himself, Sir Sparehawk. . . for SSd and Morgana, small pin cushions with the Letter S embroidered upon them....black fabric with real gold thread. And For Himself. . .a paperweight made of rubber. . .with the letters SS burnt deep into it and then treated with gold leaf. . .the card says. . .simply. . .thank Y/you.

I enter, leading a servant who bears a large steamer trunk. I bid him to leave it, on end, on a table near the center to the room and dismiss him to await outside... I open the trunk, revealing in the lid a rack of hooks from which hang various instruments of pain and pleasure: crops, bats, lashes, quirts, paddles, a bullwhip... I turn and open the inner door to the larger compartment of the trunk. From that door are pended chains, ropes and padded restraints. WIthin the larger compartment are partitions which separate the various toys and tools within -- large liturgical candles, matches, dildos, vibrators, lotions and oils, and the like... Seeing that all is in readiness now, I turn to the little one...

To maurya: Good evening, my dear. Are you ready?

taking a deep breath before she approaches the stage from her hiding place in the back of the room.....the simple page lifts her heart to the sky in happiness at this moment of sharing with her dearest friends. . .one last look in the full length mirror next to her reveals a pleasantly rounded woman of 40. . .soft, mid-length curls of brown, auburn and grey. . .eyes the color of an irish meadow. . .skin fair with charming flecks of brown sprinkled across her face. . .arms. . .neck. . .her gown this evening is more Victorian in form. . .Simple black cut, but with 32 black pearl buttons down the back and cuffs. . .in her 3" black heels. . .she stands 5ft. 8 and a half inches. . .ample breasts are supported under her gown by an original corset of whalebone which she has made her self for this very occasion. . .black pearls dot each ear....clipped earrings. . .because nothing is as yet pierced upon her body. . .Piercing will be a gift she gives an RT Master. . .another time. . .Charcoal hose peek through under her dress. . .nothing else is visible at this moment. She slowly emerges from her spot and moves with elegance through those she holds so dearly, but sees only Himself, the blessed Master who purchased her for this moment. . . She wordlessly takes to Him a box. . .wrapped in gold the card says.....to You and Your beloved one, asiyyah. . .as a token of my appreciation of the gift Y/you share with me this night. Inside, wrapped in white tissue paper, are two pillow cases of fine linen. . .with T/their monograms engraved upon them. . .She then curtseys deeply to Himself. . .and to the G/guests and slowly mounts the steps to the stage. . .turning gently into the lights. .. the music drumming softly in the background. . .she kneels center stage, head bowed low so that her right cheek touches the ground, her hands facing palms upward to Himself. . .signalling that she is now. . .for this moment. . .His.

Smiling, approvingly, I take the gift... Thank you, little one.

As you mount the stage, I cross my arms, my eyes surveying you intently... Lovely dress, my dear. Pity you won't be needing it. Remove it. Now.

slipping down the stairs behind the One who owns me...

dressed in a light, short, red dress of gauze...my dark hair framing my green eyes....
eyes lowered framed in dark lashes...my black collar of ownership around my neck...

~collared slave of Magister Gregorius~

kneeling beside your trunk....my hands behind my back....waiting for Your command....
The sign around my neck penned with Your hand...which You say speaks more to my inner nature than anything else...resting on my breasts....nipples already hard....
the sign says:

Obturamentum in meo ano amicissimum meum est....

rising with grace.......she pulls silently upon the wrists opening them.....reaches behind her self......and severs the hidden snaps........so that the dress falls immediately away from her body. . .revealing her ample breasts, corseted. . .shapely thighs and legs. . .adorned with hose. . .she gently folds the garment......and sets is aside quickly.....and kneels again. . .cheek to the floor and palms upward.....

Good evening, sweet slave. Get the padded wrist and ankle manacles, the spreader bar, two two-headed connectors and a three-headed connector from my trunk; then stand ready. I shall require you in a moment.

My gaze drinks in the loveliness of your naked form... Remove the heels as well. They don't go well with a spreader bar. Too easy to break an ankle. If any bones are to be broken tonight, I want them broken by intention not by inadvertance... Chuckling wickedly...

bending over the trunk....looking through it...retrieving the articles you desire....

standing...quietly...holding

four manacles
a spreader bar and
five connectors in my hands....

quickly rising again to remove each shoe with purpose. . setting them on top of the pile of clothing. . .returning in silence to kneel as before. . .although her nipples harder at the mention of the spreader bar. . .she controls her breathing

Give me the spreader bar and the two two-headed connectors. Attach the wrist and ankle manacles to maurya and buckle them down securely. Then attach the three-headed connector to the d-rings on each of the wrist manacles. I want her arms out in front of her.

To maurya: Stand, little one, spread your legs slightly and extend your arms in front of you.

As asiyyah moves to comply, I attach the two two-headed connectors to the spreader bar, one to each end...

looking at maurya...smiling....thinking she is very lovely....

very brave....

and so beautiful in her submission....

biting on my lower lip....sighing.....

eyes still lowered. . .as yet not permitted to look upward, i rise. . .placing my feet about 9 inches apart from each other. . .from my hips i raise my arms forward and out straight in a graceful motion until they are directly in front of me. . .as commanded. . .silent. . .not yet granted permission to speak. . .blinking only once for thank You Master.

I move up on the stage....my eyes on her....going around to the back...kneeling....attaching a manacle to each leg....

then coming back around to the front....taking her hands one at a time and securing the wrist manacles around them....on both the leg and wrist manacles making sure the sheepskin is secure so they won't bite....[too much]....grin

then taking the 3 way connector...attaching it to the manacles' d ring...

putting her hands gently down....

smiling into her eyes....

mentally giving her strength...

and encouragement....

I bring the cold, steel tip of the spreader bar and connector to rest beneath your chin, then tilt your head back and up... I prefer that a slave look at me when I speak to her. The tip of the spreader bar departs as I stand aside for asiyyah to do her assigned task...

Thank you, sweet slave. Now, have a seat on the pillows near my trunk.

feeling her encouragement cover me as a warm blanket, i make no acknowledgement as my focus is set. . .my body is pliable but strong beneath her hands as she manipulates me to His wishes. . .my heart begins to slowly beat. . .faster. .. but i maintain my carriage and breath. . .visibly. . .

standing back....

my hands behind my back...

waiting for You to command me.

going to sit on the pillows....

beside Your property. Property with property....

my loving eyes watching....gazing....

green eyes sparkle in acknowledgement. . .into His own. . .beginning to feel the drum within her.....deep within her....slowly pound

I lean down and roughly spread your legs, attaching one connector from the spreader bar to the d-ring on the right ankle manacle... then press again until I can clip the opposite end of the spreader bar to the d-ring on the left... Your legs are spread five full feet apart, the strain already pulling at your groin muscles and hips... I rise and look you full in the face... For tonight's scene your safeword will be "stop." Do not use that safeword unless you genuinely wish the scene to stop, for it will instantly upon its utterance. You have my leave to speak as you feel necessary during the scene. You will alert me instantly to any difficulties you are experiencing, including those short of the need to safeword. Do you understand?

Yes Magister Gregorius. . .i understand. . .Thank You

feeling the pull between my legs......upper thigh muscles tightening.....strong calf muscles and feet absorbing what the thighs cannot as well. . .controlling my breathing for focus and balance. . .green eyes clear. . .mind clear. . .

I reach out and lift your hands above your head... With my right hand I attach the chain of the suspension apparatus to the central prong of the three-way connector. I smile... I think I'll leave you hanging around for a moment...I turn and walk to the suspension apparatus' winch at the wall, release the lock and begin to turn the wheel... slowly you are lifted until your toes can barely touch the surface of the stage... I lock the wheel in place and proceed to the steamer trunk...

my eyes widen in surprise. . .as the thoughts of suspension send my mind a whirl....but for a moment. . .and then i look into His eyes again. . .and my breathing returnings. . .then feeling the pull upon my arms....the tension searing through my muscles.....a familiar burn. . .eyes focusing upon a spot on the back wall. . .counting. . .maintaining composure....but feel the beginning of the pain i know will build. . .

I select the long, blonde, horsehair quirt... I snap it a few times to smooth its strands... As I return to the stage, I pause to caress My asiyyah's raven hair for a moment as I pass her... And then I approach...

I press the forward edge of the handle against your shoulder, leading it across you -- your throat, then your opposite shoulder -- letting the strands softly caress your breasts and nipples as they glide across you...

feeling my weight.....of gravity pulling me against myself. . .fire forming around my wrists......the tips of my toes turning dark from the pressure upon them

feeling the initial tingle of the horsehair. . .my mind flashes back for a moment and then forward and then returns to the present. . .straining to keep my eyes opened.....so tempted to close them to understand better the feeling of the tingle across my body. . .nipples harden to large pebbles. . .i can feel my clit begin is proud rise. . .

I walk behind you, trailing the tickling strands of the quirt along your back... then pause, admiring your hanging form... My arm draws back, my wrist flicks... four hundred strands of horsehair bite at your right side, curving around to nip at your breast and snap at your nipple... Then, again, this time from the left...

responding by pulling on the suspension to Your first strike, feeling the bite. . .and then the sting both surge through my body quickly. . .and ebb through it slowly. . .convusing my mind. . .both these feelings at the same time. . .remembering to count. . .1. . .rights side, nipple. . .2. . .left side, nipple. . .Thank You Magister Gregorius. . .as i strain to utter the words. . .a drop of milk seeps from each nipple and falls to the wooden stage floor

The quirt falls more swiftly now, in strokes from left shoulder to right hip and from right shoulder to left hip, a brushing blow, exciting the skin, getting the blood flowing, making every inch more sensitive to what will follow...

struggling to maintain the count. . .moving toward to receive the strikes and at the same time away from them, mind pushing through to maintain the focus upon His eyes. . .not speaking. . .saving the energy. . .for what surely is to come. . .hidden passion begins to rumble in her belly. . .feeling her skin become alive with new sensations. . .she. . .focuses. . .yet again.

wrists on fire from the pull of her weight against the machine. . .for the first time she looks upward to see the beauty of her wrist secured for Him. . .the burn she endures inside the soft wool making her wrists perspire. . .and sting. . .she slowly lowers her gaze to Him. . .

I walk again to the trunk and return the quirt to its hook... I search for the next instrument, my eyes alighting on black suede lash... I take it into my hand, and meander back to the stage... Was it an instant or an eternity I spent admiring the curve of your back and buttocks? Hard to tell, isn't it... Then the lash comes in with its soft-hard fire from ten thongs across both your buttocks in an instant... telltale red streaks follow in its wake across your flesh...

my eyes widen. . .as i watch You with the instrument. . .my breathing accelerates. . .i cannot read Him. . .there is not point in preparing for what i know will happen. . .when He deems it. . .i strain to focus as i count slowly. . . screaming out louding for the first time. . .a cleansing scream. . .releasing all the pain from my heart which as so recently surrounded it. . .as i do so.....my arms flex and i lift myself slightly on the suspension device.....and then relax. . .

whispering softly......Thank You Magister Gregorius. . .closing my eyes for but a moment.

Again and again, the lash thongs fly from my hand to your flesh... across your back from shoulder to hip, first right, then left, then right, then left... then left, then right... post and riposte... each blow an increment harder than the last... ten, then fifteen, then twenty... Your back first crimsons along the streaks left by the thongs, then reddens more generally... gradually the reddish streaks become darker... the pain of the thudding lash, the fire of the stinging thong-tips...

I pause, admiring the lash's handiwork... Sweet slave, bring me a cup of coffee, black, with fructose sugar...

head turning from side to side.....almost growling in response to the blows. . .the mixture of pleasure, of passion, of pain and yes from somewhere anger surfaces as i begin to fight my restraints visually. . .while mentally fighting the restraints of my mind. . .seeking that openness. . .that once was there. . .reaching for it. . .but fighting it all the same. . .green, blazing eyes watching Him.......staring with molten passion into His own. . .

I walk again to the trunk, replacing the lash in its appointed place. From the recesses of the trunk I remove a wooden box, and return with it to the stage...

now feeling my thighs......pull and burns.....the fire tearing through me. . .closing my eyes for but a brief instant. . .my body burns as if it is on fire. . .so the jump open. . .to find the focus again. . .to breath through it all. . .to understand the pain. . .to take control of it. . .to make it my joy. . .and not me its. . .

jumping at Your command....rising and quickly skipping over the stones to the bar....

putting on a fresh pot of coffee to brew...

readying Your cup with the fructose...while it brews....

Watching You....as I work.

I stand before you, toying with the box, not opening it yet... waiting for my coffee...

my head drops to rest for a moment while You walk to the trunk. . .my mind is torn. . .wanting to see what is next. . .and not wanting to see. . .feeling. . .my toes numb. . .i force my eyelids open to face what is to come

filling Your cup....hot...

walking carefully across the floor....

placing it on a low table near You...but out of the way of Your swings....kneeling to serve....

my eyes see Yourself. . .and my mouth moves to say Thank You Magister yet again. . .but my breathing is more shallow this time. . .my legs are almost numb now from the strain. . .i feel the pain. . .but it is far away. . .and then shoot through me again to remind me. . .far way. . .and returns. . .my eyes focus strangely upon Yours. . .as i lick my lips. . .another drop of milk escapes my left nipple

Smiling at your thoughfulness... No, little one. Not on the table. You know I never take my coffee black, and this is no exception. Surely you've seen the milken nubs which protrude from maurya's breasts. And you were raised as a ranchgirl... You know how to milk a cow. Voice stern now... Milk her, both breasts, into my coffeecup. And don't be gentle about it. I want every drop.... Then present the cup to me.

rising off my knees...
taking the cup in hand....
walking to stand before the beautiful one....
considering...

Master,
I usually use both hands for milking...
May alessia hold the cup so I may have both hands for the job?

green eyes twinkle......even though i am tiring. . .my nipples are so hard and ready to send their gift to Him. . .my special secret. . .the though begins the drips to form for her. . .weight still pulling against my wrists now turning dark dark red. . .

Yes, you may.

my tender soul reveals itself to you through my eyes. . .my breath soft upon you as you determine how to please Himself with your efforts. . .my eyes say i am fine. . .enjoy.

As I await asiyyah's milkmaidery, I reach up and caress your bound hands for a moment... not yet so cool that I feel a need to relax their agony for a bit...

turning to alessia....

holding the cup out to her....

while I turn my head back to maurya....

considering her....considerable breasts....large and sensitive....

wondering if she will be able to stand milking....a little painful of an interprise....

a little smile teasing my lips as I realize we are about to see....if she can or not...

my eyes traveling down to the large nipples....oozing milk...

then to the pussy...that I *know* is already wet....

instinctively moving away from the caress of my bound hands. . .but then relaxing into Your touch. . .pain and all. . .feeling the burn shoot down my arms. . .wildly. . .just from a single finger's touch

rising and taking the cup from you....kissing you gently as I do... then waiting and watching so as to catch each bit...not wanting to lose a single drop..

alessia, darlin'...put the cup under her right nipple...

whispering....

and for goodness sakes...catch every drop...

winces as the burn from the cup under my right breast...the steam burning my flesh. . .aughhhhhhhhhhhh tears falling freely down my cheeks as i pull to keep myself from moving away.....pushing toward the agony. . .daring it proudly. . .

taking both hands...surrounding your breast...very close to your chest.....massaging...a little gently at first...then harder....

my hands traveling out toward the nipple....caressing....then squeezing....alternating...

putting both hands around your right breast....my fingers doing "the wave" - starting close to your body...each individual finger squeezing in turn...out toward the nipple....

seeing large drops form on the nipple...

the first dropping....

catching the drop...steadying the cup so as not to burn..
seeing the flesh of maurya's breast grow pink from the steam...

feeling your hands upon my body sends shock waves through it. . .my clit becomes instantly proud.....as the air hits the tiny tip. . .shivering sparkle from my body. . .i see stars. . .and feel the pain again return to my limbs. . .screaming at me. . .growling at me. . .but my mind pays no attention. . .and my green eyes seethe into yours.......to continue. . .please. . .

the flow becoming quicker...the milk drop-drop-dropping...then almost a gentle stream as I *squeeze* harder....

watching maurya's face....

holding the base of her breast with one hand....pinching the breast with my other...using my whole hand....and *pulling*....my fingers sliding over the whole breast out to the nipple....

which I *pinch*.....

savagely.....

and the milk continues to trickle....

repeating it...two,,,,three,,,,four times....

then...

releasing the breast....

pushing the cup over to the other breast....the left.

repeating the same process....

massage....
compress...
holding....
pinching....
pulling....

squeezing....

as the milk drops and streams into the waiting cup....

watching Magister Gregorius' asiyyah hands working..
smiling as I see the milk begin to flow....
ever carefull of the hot liquid....
watching as each drop disappears into the dark liquid...

licking my lips as i watch you express my milk. . .my mind flashes to the thought of your gentle lips caressing me there. . .i watch your eyes, but my mind seeks that momentary peace. . .and then in a second it is over and the reality surges forth yet again

watching the level of the cup raise....

seeing the flow ebbing slightly...looking to you...

savagly pinching the left nipple just for good measure....

putting the cup back under the right...

taking both hands....

twisting the whole breast....

one quarter turn to the right....slowly....very slowly...

holding it there...

milk dropping....

then the left....

the same turning.....

hoping alessia can keep up with which side I am on...

Smiling as asiyyah ministers to your ample udders...

taking both breasts...in my hands...gently....
so gently caressing them....

the nipples so red....

turning to my Master...

Sir,

May I lick them clean?

Thank you, sweet slave. That should be ample. Now go to the winch on the wall, release the lock and turn the wheel until maurya's feet can stand flat on the floor, then lock the wheel again. When you have finished, bring me my crop.

To alessia: Give me the cup, little one. And thank you.

smiling... catching the milk as it once again flows from the right breast....

No, you may not. Now follow my instructions, sweet slave.

eyes now aware of alessia. . .watching her as well. . .feeling my body going limp above me. . .whispering Magister Gregorius. . .my wrists.....seem to be pulling through. . .struggling.......

crossing the room, kneeling before you and raising the cup to you...

finding a whisper. . .and then my voice. ..Thank You Sire. . .

I accept the cup gratefully... Thank you, my dear. Now return to the pillows.

I drain the cup in four swallows, then set in on the table...

To maurya: Delicious. You really ought to start a concession.

I start to open the wooden box...

walking to the wall...unlocking the winch....
letting it slowly click-click-click down until maurya can stand flat footed once again...locking it in position....

walking to the trunk....

looking through all the myriad of articles, toys, etc.

Finding HIM...."the crop"......heavy sigh.....
loving the crop sooooo much...

returning by Your side...
holding it out to You....handle first....Sir.

You are entirely welcome...

I draw seven wooden clothespins from the box, then set it aside...

Stand there with it for a moment, sweet slave.

I turn to maurya, grasp her left nipple, and close the first pin over her nipple, relishing as the pain from its bite crosses her face... Then the right nipple... again the exquisite grimace...

legs almost pushing me forward as i cannot bend them.....my feet burning with sleep......trying not to fall forward. . .to hold steady......my head drops for a moment. . .my eyes close. . .as He sips the coffee. . .i rest. . .and my mind thanks Him for the momentary pause. . .with determination. . .i find energy from deep within my heart and open my eyes......tired. . .arms almost useless hanging above me. . .staring into His eyes with firm resolve. . .

standing...with the crop by my side....waiting for Your command....

jesssssusssssssssss.......feeling the first clothespin clamp down my feet raise upward toward the pain. . .clothespins. . .counting them. . .oh god. . .6 more. . .blowing through it. . .mind trying to control. . .i will do this........grrrooooooooooowwwww....(breath)....pant.... hummmmmmm......breath...pant.......eyes shoot fire.......wetness runs down my thighs from my pussy.........

I steady you for a moment, then grip the soft tissue at your left ribs between my fingers, slipping a clothespin over the ridge I have made... then again on the right side... then eight inches lower on the right side... and then parallel to it on the left... Finally I go to one knee, spread the moist lips of your waiting sex and caress the nubbin at their apex... As it throbs beneath my fingers, I slip the final clothespin over its hood... I stand, and take the crop from My asiyyah...

To My asiyyah: Thank you, precious slave. You may return to your seat.

I extend my arm, lodging the tip of the crop beneath your chin... You are going to get a rare privilege, little one. I don't engage in target practice with just anyone. I caress your right cheek for a moment with the cool, leather tip of the crop, then turn on my heel, take two steps, and wheel again to face you...

.......tears streaming.......my head dropping backwards......struggling against it. . .the pain. . .reaching out for my control. . .but. . .not finding it immediately........getting frightened......and then a voice in my mind . .says open your eyes silly.......and mine snap open. . .to see Himself. . .my focus. . .my reason for being here. . .and my control returns from that unknown place. . .legs shakey.....the clothespins pinching through me to obivion.

target practice?......gasps.....

eyes widen and my mouth moves but nothing comes out....oh my gooooddddddddddd

I lift the crop to my shoulder, eyes expertly gauging distance and angle... Then the crop flies, my wrist flicking, swift and hard... the tip catches the upper clothespin on the left of your ribs, tearing it from your flesh and hurling it across the room... On the riposte as suddenly in a rapid, flowing motion, the crop's tip dislodges the upmost clothespin on your left side and sends it flying as well... I return the crop to its repose on my shoulder...

tears running down my cheeks again....my nose dripping slightly.....not looking downward but feeling the trauma shoot through back into my back.....my knees move forward my body's weight is momentarily born my only my arms....i hear a snap.....and feel a muscle tear and bubble in my right arm. . .groaning. . .wetness running down my legs. . .pouring from my body. . .the pain. . .pouring from it as well

I draw the handkerchief from the breast pocket of my black tunic-jacket, I walk forward and bring it to your nose... Blow, little one. I'll not have anyone say I beat a snot-nose...

my eyes cast downward see His feet. . .and follow them up to His face. . .my instinct and joy is to smile. . .my mind scoffs at that notion but. . .through it. . .i must. . .smile. . .and then the pain flashes again........and i groan into reality....

i apologize Milord. . .but......it always happens when i cry.......thank You Sire. . .inhaling the scent upon the handkerchief and smiling. . .realizing it is His beloved. . so sweet. . .so tender. . .tender. . .the right arm begins to swell slightly and the left one begins to compensate. . .legs numb again. . .thanking god she can still do the splits. . .or she would surely have been dead by now......

No need to apologize. You've been under a bit of stress recently... Chuckling, I place the handkerchief on the table... perhaps for future use... then turn from you, take two steps, and wheel... This time the blows flow directly from my pivot... the first rips the lower left clothespin from its fleshly pinion at your lower ribs, sending it flying into the darkness... the second, on riposte, does likewise to its partner on the right... I bring the crop again to my shoulder... Since you have pleased me right well, sweet maurya, I shall give you a choice. Right nipple first, or left?

trying to smile.....i have pleased You?.....eyes....focus.....whispering. . .both?

One or the other must be first, my dear. The choice is yours.

right please Magister

taking a deep breath and preparing.........eyes locked upon His own.......pain from my arms....legs...so overwhelming......my breath......leaves me too quickly

As you wish, little one. The blow comes from my shoulder again, hard, quick, striking just at the tip of right shaft of the pin, pulling it apart as it leaps from your tender right nipple... No pause as I pull the blow back, striking the left clothespin, opening it and stripping it away from your abused flesh...

ahhhhhhhhhhhcries out...and falls forward into the pain....losing my balance.....my left arm catching me.....my right arm hanging useless above me. . .nipples burning as if they no longer exist. . .as if the tissue is gone. . .salt from my tears stinging my tender flesh. . .my clit. . .still hard and throbbing. . .my pussy opening as if it reaches for something......my mind pulling back to decode that sensation. . .pausing. . .then crying out. . .all done separately...but simultaneously

Now for the piece-de-resistance... The crop slashes down, careening toward the clothespin at your clitoris...

AWAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW ....the flesh rips downward......i hang by one arm......barely......almost fainting from the sob. . .my head drops......my breathing is ragged.........

The tip brushes your inner thigh as the stem slides down your left leg, fast... The forward edge of the stem strikes the spring lock on the connector to the spreader bar at your left ankle, releasing it... I pivot and slash right, striking the spring lock on the other connector... Your legs are freed from their restraint...

little sobs.....too tired for big ones....searching for my breath......ass squeezed tight.......pain shooting out of my nipples again...and down my sides...consumed in the burning......moaning........mo....an....inggggggg.

my knees buckle and i hang by one arm....the other limp......

I cast the crop aside, step into you, cradling you with one arm as I reach up to release the three-prong connector from the suspension chain... As you slump into my arms, I heft you up and carry you to the larger table, gently placing you on your back and softly spreading your legs...

To alessia: Sweet slave, get me a basin of warm water, a wash cloth, and a towel. Then remove the manacles from maurya's wrists and ankles.

To asiyyah: Come here, precious slave, and remove the clothespin from maurya's clit. You may them console her injured nether parts with your tongue.

moaning my eyes open and close as i feel my bonds being removed. . .moving between conscious and unconcious discovery. . .recovery of pain. . .and relieft in His arms. . .wincing as my legs again are spread i try to sit up.....but cannot. . .i am spent. . .a tear runs down my cheek. . .trying again to get back up for more. . .but. . .i cannot. . .and then i feellll.......

rising and fetching a basin, filled with warm water a fresh wash cloth and towel....then placing them on the table at your side before I remove first the wrist manacles, then those at maurya's ankles

Jumping up to obey...I walk over to maurya.....gently caressing her thigh....

take a big breath, maurya...this will hurt like a mother....

unclipping the clothespin......

spreading your legs apart....

licking and sucking on your clit....to return the bloodflow.....

weak smile of thank you........i try to help...but cannot.....so i lay there for you.....watching.....feeling....looking up to Himself. . .and His devoted ones. . .

continuing to lick.....

until I sense....the change....in your gasps...from pain to pleasure....

Thank you, sweet slave.

I take the washcloth, dip it in the water, wring it out until it is fully moist, but not dripping... I wipe maurya's face first, then her nipples, the cloth warm, yet cooling... I take the towel and dry her carefully... As I await asiyyah's ministrations to the sweet maurya, I take each wrist in turn and gently massage it... then the ankles...

hearing your words.......your scent familiar from the handkerchief........i smile a little and nod......my back arches against the table as you remove the pin.......and then as your lips find my bud.....my eyes flash open.......and i growl.....MAGISTER GREGORIUS........do i have your permissionnnnnnn to cummmmmmmm??????????? please?

I lean down and press my lips to your ear... Yes, you have my leave.

eyes locked upon His.......

placing a kiss on you....sweet maurya....

hearing your question....smiling....

then continuing to lick...and suck your clit....

probing....

delving....

You may continue to pleasure maurya to climax...

I take the warm washcloth and wipe the perspiration from my brow, then dry it with the towel... I take the comb from the breast pocket of my tunic-jacket and adjust my hair...

my hips raise, my back arches.......and my entire pubic area shudders.......as i reach out........ah ...ah..AHH....HHhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH....shuddering.....as it shoots through my nipples from my abdomen.....outward from my sore nub......down through and back deep with in my anus..........

maurya -

licking your clit with my tongue...flat...long...licks....then tiny circles around your clit...with the tip of my tongue....

gooooooooooood
and sooooo sweet....

eyes seeking hers as the last wave shoots across me.......wishing i could touch her hair...but my arms too weak.......my eyes touching it instead........pulling her into me...

maurya -

drinking the honey that flows from you....

hungrily...

proud and honored...

to pleasure such a courageous submissive...

You, my dear, are a pluperfect delight.

maurya -

moving up your body...gently caressing your lips with my own....
tucking your hair behind your ear...

caressing your cheek....

and His beloved ones......whispers a weak and breathless...thank Y/you....