Now, I swear I felt that one coming. When he had returned with the whip, I knew
he would revert to his favorite sport sooner or later. Tie me. Upset me. And
pretend all of this was just common, regular work. Same old game.

Except that this time I was in a mood to play along. I had fun. I was slightly
drunk too. I wanted a taste of danger. Like I did when I was younger, when I
used to hitchhike with my best friend, giggling like schoolgirls as we imagined
what our parents would say if they saw us standing by the deserted road,
insolent and pretty and shouting it to the world. Nothing bad had ever
happened, but one day, we saw the driver and his friend masturbate as they were
taking us out of town. We literally jumped out of the car at the first traffic
light and tried to laugh to forget how scared we had been. But we were young,
and danger was fun.

That day, danger was fun, too. Without hesitation, I put my hands in my back,
and I felt the same thrill when I was climbing in the car of a complete
stranger, putting my fate in his hands. Let me play with fire and forget it can
burn. I felt the cold metal on my wrists at the same time as I heard the
"click" of the lock. He was fast, as always.

He took something out of his pocket, brought it up, close to my face,
and...yikes! Darkness. Total. Very, very total. I didn't like this at all, but
I bit my lips. This is just a game, I told myself, let's see how far you can
go.

He led me towards the back of the stage and fumbled with something for a
minute. After so much energy spilt during the photo session, the quiet and
silence around us was almost surreal. I felt him tie what sounded like a clip
to the chain linking my cuffs.

"I'm tired of these standing shots," he said, "let's try something different."

His last words still echoed in my ears when my arms went up, not that I asked
them, but there was no way I could resist the traction. To keep my balance, I
had to bend forward. When the pulling stopped, I found myself in such an
awkward position, my insubordinate nature spurted back up.

"Hey, not so high. I can't keep my balance. C'mon, bring it down."

"Hold on. Let me deal with that little balance problem," he said as he walked
back to his trunks.

While I was still trying to find a more comfortable position, lifting my head,
bending my knees, trying to turn around, none of which really worked, he
straightened me back up by the hips and asked me to spread my legs wide. I did
as he told me.

"Wider. Much wider. There." As he spoke, he clutched my leather-clad ankles and
tied them up.

When I heard him turn away, I tried to move but found out I could no longer
close my legs. Oh, good, he had me grounded, too. I did a rapid survey of my
situation and decided the game was not turning in my favor. Yet, despite the
obvious discomfort, I was still more thrilled than upset.

Funny what a mixture of wine and adrenaline will do to you. Two days before, I
had kicked a fuss about being lashed to a tree. And there I was, doubled over,
with my ass not even covered by the almost non-existent skirt he had me wear.
My hands and feet were tied up and useless, and I was in more than one way
completely in the dark as to what was to come.

Then, quite unexpectedly, I burst into laughter.

"Now, that's quite a situation you've put me in, Adrian," I managed to
splutter. "And tell me, what do we do now?"

* * *

"I want you to hold this for me. But if you drop it, I'm going to use it on
you. Open your mouth."

Before she could react, he wedged the handle of the flogger between her teeth,
then stood back to watch as she struggled between the desire to spit it out and
the consequences if she did.

"A very wise choice," he commented once she calmed down. Not that it would
last. This one seemed to think that fighting him was a winning strategy. He
needed to take advantage of it while he could, capture her aggression and make
it come alive on film.

Several rolls later, he decided she could use some accessories.

"I'm going to give you some more things to hold until I need them."

He placed a leather gag with a thick rubber penis jutting out of the mouthplate
into one of her hands bouncing behind her back. The other soon received a
sizeable plug for her anus.

As he reloaded his camera, he watched her fingers twitch and claw as she tried
to deduce what they were clutching. She looked so marvellous when she got
agitated. But such a pity to lose the eyes. He would definitely take some
pictures without the blindfold for his private collection.

He pulled the clamps out of one pocket and fingered them appreciatively. They
were the kind that looked like little presses...the kind they used to crush
grapes. A single turn of the screw could create entire new dimensions of
distress.

And if that didn't work, there was always the weights. Eventually, the whip
would be on the floor, then in his hands.

He reached over to one of her breasts that had popped free of the bustier and
positioned the two thin brass bars around her soft, pink nipple. Holding it
steady with one hand, he began twisting the serrated knob with the other.

* * *

The regular "click" of the shutter was the only thing that kept me within a
semblance of reality. Beyond that, nothing made sense. My whole attention was
centered on my jaws and teeth. Don't drop the handle. That was all I could
think of, don't drop the handle. I had no doubt that the stout piece he had
forced into my mouth was the better half of some kind of whip and I wasn't
going to let him use it on me. I wasn't sure he would, but I didn't want to
find out.

My hands, still wrapped in the long leather gloves, had long stopped their
futile manoeuvres to deduce what they were holding. The phallus-shaped object
had a square base that disqualified all the items I could think of. And the
smooth conic form of the other had me completely confused. Yet, whatever they
were, I knew I had better hold on them as for dear life.

The handle seemed increasingly heavy and I clenched my muscles one more time to
steady my grip. At that moment I felt him place something hard and cold on my
nipple. And tighten. I moaned under the sharp pain, but bit on harder. Don't
drop it. Just don't drop it. The other nipple. Oh, Lord...focus. Bite. Hold it.

When the pain suddenly grew exponentially and I felt my breasts sag as if
stones were hanging from them, I let out a cry. I took a couple of long breaths
and tried to accommodate the pain. When I came back to my senses, I realized my
mouth was empty. I had also dropped one of the objects in my hands, but at the
time, the fact barely registered.

"Shit." My voice was a coarse whisper. "You're not really going to use it on
me, are you?"