Lotus soon picked up that I was a bit off guys after what had happened with Wayne and it had left me with a bit of a masochistic kink. Such are the irrational ways of the human psyche.
As you know we were both at Art College. I was doing a Foundation Year which covers most aspects of art and Lotus was doing photography and already getting a reputation for being a bit weird due to the highly erotic nature of many of her pictures.
I guess outsiders are drawn to each other and we had a pretty much magical bond right from the off when we met in the Student Union bar. I was living in College Halls and having a few problems with some of the other residents and Lotus was renting the ground floor of a house which she could not really afford so I moved in with her.
Lotus soon picked up that I was a bit off guys after what had happened with Wayne and it had left me with a bit of a masochistic kink. Such are the irrational ways of the human psyche. One room which we had which I have not mentioned is the cellar which had been unused apart from a load of sundry stuff which had probably been down there forever. The basement was down some brick stairs through a door off the main passage beside the kitchen. It was all brick with a low ceiling and a single naked electric bulb. Lotus said that it offered possibilities.
We bought a second-hand mattress online and put it in the cellar together with a bucket and an old dog cage. At this point Lotus was doing some pretty extreme BDSM posing and she had contacts in the local sex trade so she could get hold of some pretty serious bondage equipment. Lotus interrogated me in the cellar and got my most embarrassing secrets out of me about feelings I had and things I dreamed of having done to me. We went on Amazon and bought an orange prison uniform with “Department of Correction” stenciled on the back of the top and, usually, I had to change into my uniform every time that I returned home from college.
Lotus and myself had lots of really deep discussions about sex and what made us tick, or even tingle. For me the root was shame and embarrassment. All the bondage and submission were only about being as embarrassed as possible I found that a truly delicious experience despite it being deeply uncomfortable at the same time.
Of course, the obvious problem was that, as Lotus and I came to be soulmates and to know each other’s deepest and darkest secrets, it became ever more difficult for me to be embarrassed in her presence.
On a Friday I had no lectures at college and would normally sit in the library studying but one day Lotus informed me that she had something special in mind and that I should come home after lunch. She was very mysterious about it and, of course, as her sub, I was not in a position to press for answers.
It felt sort of naughty knowing that I probably should be working in the college library as I caught the bus homewards and then walked the rest of the way. I let myself into the house and it was obvious that Lotus was not there. She had left some very interesting items on the hall floor together with a handwritten note giving very precise instructions.
I ran to the loo, that bit was not in the instructions, and then I returned to the hallway and picked up the list. Although we only had the ground floor, the staircase had been left in place to save money when the property was converted. We had the bottom few steps and the wooden banister rail and then there was a blank wall so that we could not ascend the stairs.
Following Lotus’s orders, I stripped completely leaving my clothes on the floor then I strapped the red rubber ball gag into my mouth. Picking up the silver handcuffs, I stood with my back to the banister and fed the cuffs behind a wooden upright. There is always that slight, tingly pause before snapping home the second cuff – once that clicks home, I am there until someone with a key decides to set me free.
Lotus knew what time I would be home and she surely would not want to waste good playtime so she would be home soon – wouldn’t she?
There is no clock in our hallway and my watch was cuffed behind me but I felt the time stretch. Surely, she must come soon. I wriggled a little and pulled against the cuffs just to keep the blood flowing. Sometimes I stood upright and sometimes I slumped against the banister; I shifted my weight from foot to foot as I imagined what Lotus was planning to do to me.
Then I saw the dark outline against the frosted glass in the front door. It was too large to be Lotus so I assumed perhaps the postman but then he (it was too large for a woman) began to turn a key in the lock. In seconds I was facing a tall man in his thirties – he was quite dishy but, that apart, I really did not want to be facing this total stranger stark naked and in handcuffs and gag. I twisted my body so that I was presenting my side to him instead of the full pussy but, of course, that just showed off the profile of my boobs. The thought popped into my mind that he had picked the lock – only Lotus and myself had keys.
He was grinning and he stood before me like a customer looking over a new car. I tried to be small and invisible which failed totally as I was all too visible. He took a piece of folded paper from a pocket and held it up for me to read.
Lauren,
The bearer of this note is a friend of mine and you are to give him full obedience. Please do not be in any way difficult as he has some really original ideas about punishment. I have told him that he can do whatever he likes with you. He may even fuck you but that will be fine with you won’t it.
Lotus
I had read this missive with my side still turned towards him and now he went behind me and held my shoulder so that I could not twist. I felt him remove my ring and wrist watch and tried to protest but the gag made this come out as a series of grunts. I did not see where my jewelry went and the thought did occur to me that he had pocketed it. He spoke in a firm voice which brooked no debate and told me that he was going to remove my gag and free me from the banister and he did not expect me to give him any problem. I was silent as he worked and was not at all happy when he cuffed my hands behind me and ordered me to take him to my room.
As you know, Lotus and myself usually sleep together but I do have my own room. I led him to the door which he opened and I followed him in. He stood there taking in the whole scene with his eyes then he asked where was my underwear drawer. Now, I have done porn films so you might think me pretty unshockable but my mind puts that into a box marked “work”. We were now in my private space and here I had the same instincts as any girl. Miserably I pointed out the right drawer and he emptied it onto the bed. All my fripperies tumbled out together with a couple of sex toys which he inspected in a cold, disapproving manner. Every girl has some panties which are a bit worn but have not quite reached the stage of being discarded and he held up a few specimens and inspected the seams and faded colours making disparaging comments to me. He had barely touched me yet but he was gradually raping my private life and I was just letting him do it. What a stupid, useless bitch I was. The self-loathing was tangible and yet I knew that it was feeding that very dark, deep need which I had discussed with Lotus. I was such a perverse bitch that I was thriving on his abuse.
He remarked that I seemed to have acquired quite a lot of brassieres and no girl needed that extravagant number. Then, to my horror, he took a folding knife from a pocket and severed several of my bra straps rendering the garments useless.
Next it was my wardrobes the contents of which were strewn across the bed and the floor. The whole room was soon pretty much buried beneath fabric and he remarked that clearing it up would give me something useful to do at some point. Then he, quite matter of factly, said that it was time to move to the cellar and it hit me like a blow. Lotus had told him about the cellar! Were there any of our secrets which she had kept from him? Had the pair of them discussed everything which she had done to me in the cellar? And then I realized that we had agreed that I was Lotus’s property; the whole point was that I had chosen to surrender all my rights to Lotus so she was free to do whatever she chose and to expose everything about me to whomsoever she chose.
He clearly knew which door led to the cellar and, being still handcuffed, I followed him down the steps very carefully breathing in the dusty and musty smell of the bricks and the concrete floor. He stood and looked around in the dim light provided by the low powered electric bulb. His eyes took in the cage where I had often been confined overnight, the mattress on which I sometimes slept when I was sentenced to solitary confinement and the whipping horse which was actually a school vaulting horse. The horse had metal rings at its four corners which were supposed to be used as carrying handles but could also be used as anchor points for the ropes which bound a helpless girl before her delicate skin was marked by scarlet wheals.
He unlocked on cuff of my handcuffs and ordered me to lay across the top of the horse before clicking the loose cuff onto a ring low down on the horse. In the cellar are two old bedside cabinets left there by a previous tenant and we use them for storing small items like handcuffs and nipple clamps; he took out another pair of cuffs and locked my other wrist to the horse so that I was stretched over the horse with my hair over my eyes and my behind up in the air. Taking some hanks of rope from atop a cabinet, he began to tie my ankles to the horse being sure to pull them tight to deny me any wriggle room at all. I felt uncomfortably stretched and very exposed and vulnerable with my legs astride the horse and my pussy freely open for whatever happened to pop into his mind.
From my vantage point a few inches above the floor, I saw him pick up Lotus’s heaviest cane and give it a few practice swipes through the air making an ominous whipping sound. Then, without any warning, it struck just below one buttock. Lotus often hurts me but I believe that this stranger played squash or some other activity to strengthen his arms. It hurt like hell and I screamed at the top of my voice.
He said something about us being underground and two other strokes landed in quick succession with pain piling upon pain. I actually begged him to stop – after only three strokes – but he was not inclined to listen. The strokes just kept on coming; he would land a few strokes then pause for a tense few moments before the next salvo. I imagined that I felt blood running down my buttocks and was certain that he was doing terrible damage to me. The walls rung with my howls and my tears flowed down my cheeks. I was tensing and untensing every muscle in my body but his bindings permitted no real movement at all. My wrists ached from straining against the cold steel of the handcuffs and I knew that snot was dripping from my nose onto the floor. After that first three strokes I lost count of how many he landed but my thrashing just seemed to go on for hours.
Eventually I realized that he had taken one of his pauses and not resumed. I was panting for breath after all my screaming and my skin felt both hot and cold at the same time as the sweat which covered me dried and cooled in the unheated cellar. That was when I felt his hand explore and invade my pussy and my body betrayed me by responding to what he was doing. Very soon I was howling and trying to squirm all over again much to his audible amusement.
After I had reached an explosive climax, he ceased his ministrations and bent to untie the ropes on my ankles so that I felt my legs almost contract by an inch after being stretched for so long. He had soon removed my handcuffs and he supported me as I fell (climbed would imply far too much control) from the horse and leaned against it unsure if I could stand. He did not help me to stand but lowered me to the floor on my back and then he stood over me unfastening his trousers.
He wasted no time at all in lowering his weight onto me and there was no tenderness as he rammed into me. He was using his maleness as just as much a weapon of torment as the cane. Although I was on a cold, concrete floor the bruises and ridges on my behind were very painful as he thrust again and again until his hot emission flooded into me.
He rolled off me leaving me spread out like an old dishrag. He stood over me dressing himself then he just stared down at the mess which he had made of me. When he had enjoyed a full eyeful he made me crawl to my cage and go inside. He had again picked up the cane so I was very obedient. The cage is long and narrow, rather like a dog and one narrow end opens completely. As soon as I had dragged myself inside, he shut the door and snapped shut the padlock. I was grateful that the wooden floor of the cage had been left in place as it can be slid out to leave the victim sitting on the bare metal mesh of the cage floor.
And then he was gone without a word. I found myself grateful that he left the light on rather than abandoning me to total darkness. I must have fallen asleep at some point as I was awakened by Lotus.