Binding Ties

"Are you comfortable?" Malcolm adjusted the single column ties to Celia's wrists, ankles, and torso.

"Yes, sir, but I don’t need to be. This is my sanction for disobeying you the way I did today. I am so sorry sir... and I deserve to be disciplined." Celia looked down from the Saint Andrew's cross mounted on the wall, her limbs controlled in a spread eagle position. The guilt and sorrow from disappointing her dominant successfully concealed the pain of those ropes that, although not tighter than usual, seemed to be stretching her body to its limits, unlike those times she had been restrained to her bed.

"Punishment and safety are two different concepts Celia that, under no circumstances, should be forgotten. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, forgive me." she lied feeling the need to tough it up as a way to make amends for her trespasses. She had never been indifferent to pain but, somehow, suffering for the sake of her training and her master's enjoyment provided a kind of pleasure that was as addictive to her as it was unhealthy. "I am ready for punishment, sir."

Malcolm was aware of her dependency, perhaps better than she was, and relied more on his own instincts and observation than on the bond of mutual trust so essential between a dominant and his sub. He checked once more for any excessive pressure from the ropes against a nerve and slightly caressed the girl's beautiful curves, immobilized by the ties.

"You know your safewords, be sure to use them if you need to," he whispered, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her neck. "Meantime, I want you to look at me at all times, so I can monitor you and your reactions. I also expect you to count each blow and to thank me for disciplining you, rather than giving up on you and your training. Do you have any questions?"

Celia looked into the man's piercing green eyes and shivered under his touch, as his lean, muscular chest pressed against the side of her body and his warm breath caressed her neck.

"Yes, sir… Why must you study my physical endurance so carefully, when you have given me safewords to use?"

"Because, while I trust you, I do not trust your levels of communication with me in that regard. Therefore, I would rather go by my own instincts than yours, my dear." he raised an eyebrow as a warning that the topic was to be dropped while running his fingers through her long, dark hair in reassurance.

Malcolm detected the slightest tremor in the girl's body and blamed it on the fear of anticipation. Rolling his sleeves for easier movement and precision, he walked to one of the hooks on the wall and picked up his favorite riding crop. One made of flexible black leather that, although more merciful than a cane, provided a similar sting that bit into her delicate flesh.

Trying not to drag the inevitable any longer than necessary, Malcolm placed himself to the left of his sub and, with a graceful twist of his wrist, he landed the leather rod against Celia's bottom. The girl yelped, straining her body from the sharp impact. "One, thank you, sir."

Another blow followed the first seconds after. "Two, thank you, sir."

With increasing intensity, Malcolm continued to administer one strike after the other while Celia writhed in her restraints, counting the impacts and enduring the punishment with as much pain as pleasure for making her master proud.

Malcolm knew she could take a large number of hits from the chosen tool, without even leaving pronounced markings on her skin or causing a great deal of pain. He observed those beautiful eyes tearing up and the way her body trembled in anticipation while her soft moans turned into cries after a couple of dozen strokes. However, he didn't detect signs of significant damage or any attempt at stopping the punishment through the use of her safewords. A quick glance at her wrists and ankles confirmed that the ties were not digging in.

Caressing her body with the flat, smooth end of the crop, he switched to the other side of her and continued to spank her buttcheeks and thighs with renewed strength, until her flesh appeared evenly reddened and flushed.

When he had taken every use out of the riding tool, he approached her and felt the heat over her now sensitive areas. She sighed in relief at the contact of his cooler hands and looking at her face drenched in sweat and tears, he waited until she recovered her breathing pattern and pulled from the ropes slightly.

"Everything in place?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Celia stretched her neck with difficulty to deposit a gentle kiss on his fingers sliding down from her hair.

"Can you raise it one notch for our last 10 strokes?" Malcolm knew she wanted an intense finale, and his pulsing member inside the suit pants were corroborating the need for a higher stimulus.

"Yes, sir. Please... " came her faint response.

Not needing further permission or encouragement, Malcolm walked to the next hook on the wall and took a hold of the cane he adored. "You don't need to count these." As he lifted up and landed against her punished skin, he delighted in the sounds it made, as it cut the air between them, and in the bright red stripes that created over his sub’s bum. He wasn’t a sadist but he found his heart pumping faster and his excitement increasing as the marks from the rattan became darker over her skin, creating those beautiful welts she would crave and wear so proudly afterward.

He hated the idea of hurting her, or any sub for that matter, but punishment was an essential part of their power exchange relationship and Celia had insisted to be trained by him in the lifestyle he belonged to, despite his assurance that the feelings he was developing for her were enough to sustain a vanilla intimate affair.

Celia took every hit without ever expressing the intense pain she was experiencing. At first, the stinging bites of the cane made her yelp with an intense, agonizing burn, but soon enough, the stress caused by the tensing and stretching of her limbs under her restraints became so unbearable that she rather focussed on the beating to keep herself from safewording her way out.

"Are you alright, Celia?" Malcolm enquired snapping out of his erotic trance when her trembling became less pronounced and she seemed to be losing awareness of her suffering. "Do you need me to stop the punishment, sub?"

"No… please… " with those words, the girl succumbed to that delicious high, provoked by the endorphins released in her brain, and her central nervous system setting everything on high alert. The second her body lost all resistance and hung limply from its ties, Malcolm stopped in his tracks, ending the session at once and rushing to release her from the cross.

Taking the beautiful woman in his arms, he wrapped her in a warm blanket and placed her by his side on the bed, caressing her body and planting soft kisses on her damaged skin. Subspace was a blissful stage every submissive desired and hoped to achieve at least once in a lifetime. It required an enormous level of trust between both parties and a significant increase of hormones being released, as a response to an immediate physical threat.

Malcolm was professional enough to know exactly how to push the sub's body to that extreme without causing any serious damage. This was the assurance that Celia needed to allow herself to pull through this level of pain and intense high from her master.

Their trust hadn't always been mutual, since Celia would often tend to stress her endurance to limits that her dominant didn't allow.

That evening, it took much longer for her submissive to come down from her state of euphoria, and, even after waking up and receiving the proper aftercare from her master, she continued to experience numbness and lack of mobility she had never suffered before.

"I can't feel my feet, sir." she whimpered holding on to him.

Malcolm placed a pillow under her ankles, elevating her feet, and proceeded to apply ice to the affected area, trying to reduce the inflammation that was starting to appear. "Celia, I need you to tell me the truth. When did it start?"

"It started soon after you secured the ropes and they became stretched by the position I was in. First, there was a tingling sensation, then it burnt a little and it began to feel numb after a while. I am sorry, sir… " she cried. "I thought it was nothing and I wanted to endure my punishment. Please don't be angry at me… " Celia wrapped her arms around her master, in shame and distress.

"I am not angry at you Celia; I am angry at myself for not having noticed this sooner… I should have read the signs and paid closer attention." Malcolm hugged the woman with concern and a sense of guilt that he couldn't shake even when his lover assured him she was alright and feeling better after a few hours.

When the pain killers seemed to have taken their effect the next morning and she felt fully rested, Celia stood up carefully trying not to wake up her master. Seconds after, Malcolm was racing in panic towards her, at the sound of her body hitting the ground and her wails of pain.

The sirens of that ambulance racing through the streets of Brooklyn and the look of despair on Celia's face after the doctor confirmed extensive nerve damage caused by the stretching of her extremities under the ropes, would haunt him for many months to come. Even after their relationship ended, and his BDSM practices were terminated, for good.