Back Into the Basement

Deep breath.

The sun was shining in an early afternoon show of good intentions, but the door in front of her was plain and non-responsive. So she knocked again.

This time the sound of movement inside was clear. Followed by a call to “come in”.

Inside was dark and cool. His small entry way leading to a cosy living room. As always he stood so casually confident. Eyes sparkling some manner of mischief.

“So come in then”, he said. It sounded amused with an edge of impatience. Traffic had made her slightly later than expected.

She blurted out her apologies and explanation; to which he merely smiled. And then it was just arms wrapping around. Those confident hands thick in her hair.

Buried in his lower chest she could always hide at first. Lack of height was in its way a small advantage.

Then a first hint of difference; heightened aggression and sterner purpose.

A flurry of sharp smacks across her ass. Enough to squirm to, even as he gently kissed her.

“Come then”, he said firmly, leaving her no option but to follow. Drawn forward relentlessly by that fist in her hair. Through the kitchen, down the stairs and back to that place of the crosses and benches.

She stood where he left her, feeling slightly chilled, by a high leather table built on a cage. All she had worn was a light yellow sundress, and the basement was a good deal darker and cooler than the summer air outside.

Turning her to face the table he pulled the dress up and off in one quick movement leaving her naked.

Without a word then she bent forward. Laid her face down on the cool black leather. Spread her arms high and held herself ready. She knew what would come next.

At first he merely touched. Hands moving softly over softer skin. Comfort before the storm. Though even in this she could feel his energy coiled to strike. Harder this time.

And so when it came there was no surprise; only determination.

The blows in fact were still not enough to make her cry, or even leave more than simple red marks liable to fade quite quickly.

But even so, the intent was there this time.

Feel me bitch. This is real.

So she cried out then, helpless in her reactions, as the blows reigned harder and harder. She twisted and let him feel her agony, as whips and floggers cut into the flesh of her back and legs relentlessly.

Once she even rose from the table; as the pain worked its way. The involuntary response of a wounded animal thinking only to flee for a few fleeting seconds. Until the will to stand returned, and she laid back down breathing hard.

But she didn’t flinch. Even as her mind began to think “God what more”, she stiffened to take whatever would come.

Feel me right back. This is very real.

In a way he was teaching her something new. But it was also familiar territory. Nothing more than a physical expression of a well worn path she already knew too well.

Take it all bitch. I demand nothing less than all.

Such a challenge could never be answered with anything less than the same stern audacity. Watch me my love. This is courage. This will of mine will be yours entire. Just watch me.

Other things they did together that day. Soft caresses and adoration. Followed by an unforgiving violation. All enjoyed with equal abandon.

Then simple conversation. The basement become just an ordinary room again. A soft couch and time to talk.

Lessons learned and the boundaries of life pushed out just that much farther. To go who knows where from here.

Yes other things they did and said that day. But the real drama was in those darker moments. In that passion play of pain and pleasure. In that place of connection.

So was her body made his. And with it her trust. Even as her Master had taught her. So well.

Where inspiration leads she shall always follow. Just as he told her to.

And there was the real obedience of course. As it still is. As it always shall be.

Though she bonds in truth and honesty, her soul a wandering spirit always, bent on love wherever she might find it and give it. Still there is only one home she shall ever truly know. From this day forward.

I should surely know. You must see she is just myself.

And so this truth I tell you.

There is only one place of final rest that ever comforts me.

At the feet of the man I serve before all. The one that set me free.

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