A Surprise for Sara

She shivered as her nude form glistened in the hallway light, naked except for the leather hood that covered her head, closing her off from the outside world, blocking light, muffling sound, preventing speech. A leash hung down from the D-ring of her collar, her limbs fettered by leather cuffs and metal chains, and she stood expectantly, quivering as my hands ran over her gentle curves.

I bent to lick her left nipple, squeezed by the tiny padded metal arms of a pair of nipple clamps, then removed it, quickly, and I could hear the intake of air through the hood as sensation flooded through her body. I repeated the process for her right nipple, and she shuddered. Without delay, I grasped her leash and led her forward, slowly, carefully, into our bedroom where my surprise for her waited.

Her five foot three body seemed to illuminate the room with a shine of her own in the candlelight; her red hair poured down from the back of the hood and across her back. I knelt down and unlocked her leg cuffs, chain and leather falling to the floor, then did the same for the wrists cuffed behind her. “Attention,” I ordered softly, and she obediently moved her hands to the back of her neck, elbows out, back straight, breasts and ass exposed for my attention. “Hands to your sides,” I ordered, and she dropped them; I unsnapped the gag, unlaced the hood and slid it up and off of her head. She stood in front of the bed, blinking as sight was suddenly restored.

The flickering light of a dozen candles cast her skin in shine and shadow; the curves of her face, so beautiful, so deeply lost in the headspace she dropped into when placed under my control, were alternately heightened and obscured. She waited, patiently, obediently, expectantly, and as I crossed the room to stand before her, her eyes were wide in silent question over the latex expanse laid out on the bed.

“I told you I had a surprise, milady,” I commented. I had prepared the device for her while she was chained to the wall in my living room; placed the device on my bed and set up the frame, powdered the inside with talcum powder, and hooked up the vacuum cleaner tube to the hose at the bottom. It was ready for its first trial; I had ordered the vacuum bed online weeks ago, and it had arrived a week ago to be stored in my closet until I was ready to try it out.

“Master,” she said and trailed off. I knew she had a mild touch of claustrophobia; I also knew the level of trust we had built in the months we’d been together and that she would follow where I led, so long as I was there to protect her.

“Milady, I’ll be right here,” I said and grasped her chin with my hand. “What do you do to safeword if you can’t speak and can’t snap your fingers?” She grunted, three short ones, then three long ones, before I cut her off. “Very good. I will be able to hear that. Now be my good girl and get in there.”

I guided her into the vacuum bed. Even without sealing it, the curves of her body outlined between two thin sheets of latex stirred something deep within me, and my senses heightened, taking in every inch of her newly rubberized skin. I guided her into position, ensuring the breathing tube was properly in place. She wiggled at the touch of the latex against her skin, and her breathing became more shallow, more rapid. I caressed her skin through the latex, reassuring her. “I’m right here, milady, you’re safe. I’m going to turn on the vacuum; it’s going to be noisy for a bit, but I’ll be right here.”

Leaning over to hear her breathing through the tube, I reassured myself of her airway, and then flipped the vacuum on. She was startled by the noise of the vacuum, the feeling of the latex drawing tight against her skin, but relaxed at my touch, at the feeling of my body close to hers, reassuring her that even as she was encased and separated from the outside world, I was there to protect her.

All air was drawn out of the vacuum bed, leaving her fully encased, and I shut off the vacuum. I gently climbed up, straddling her body; she tried to wiggle at the familiar feeling of my weight over her, the feeling of my cock rubbing against her latex-covered pussy, but the latex restricted her movement, and I leaned down, supporting my weight on my forearms, and listened to her breathing in and out of the tube. “You’re helpless now, my slave. Completely exposed to me. I can do whatever I want to you in this bed and you’ll be powerless to resist,” I whispered menacingly through the latex, and I could feel the change in her breathing as her position sunk in on her, equal parts comforted, aroused, and slightly terrified. I thrust down upon her, grinding into her, rubbing my body against hers, watching her tense and try to grind back up against me. “Not yet, milady. You’ll get off if you’re a good girl, but you will not yet.”

I sat up, running my hands over her entire body rapidly, sometimes my palms, sometimes my fingers, tapping, sliding, playing her latex skin like a piano. For minutes that I knew seemed like hours inside the bed, I caressed her body. I climbed off of her and ran my hands along her legs, her hips; teased her pussy and up along her hipbones, that spot that got her attention every time.

I reached to the bedside table and grabbed my riding crop; with a snap, I brought it down on her right breast, watching the ripple of the latex as it struck, hearing her muffled cry. Again, on her left, and again, on her right, and then I went to work, tapping it rapidly all over her chest, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. The transition from pleasure to pain always jarred her, but she loved the kiss of a crop, and I worked her over from shoulders to thighs. Soft, then harder, then softer again.

I placed the crop aside and admired her sheathed form. It accentuated the hourglass shape I’d always admired, the perfect curve of her breasts, the narrowing of her waist, her sexy, grippable hips. Like the corsets she always wore when we went out, it highlighted her curves in a way that seized my focus like nothing else could.

I had made sure everything I wanted was close to hand before leading her into the room, so as not to leave her unattended, and I reached into a bowl of ice cubes, grasping one in each hand. Gently, I ran them all the way down her form, leaving a trail of moisture from head to toe. Sliding them down her neck, looping around each breast and then across them again and again, teasing her nipples, then down her hipbones and legs, back up the inside of her thighs, and she shivered as the cold feeling penetrated through the latex and deep within her body. I took the riding crop and traced the lines of moisture, running the leather edge along the shiny latex, and I knew that her whole world right now was one of sensation; I knew that she was entirely in this moment.

As was I. My mind was racing with the possibilities inherent in her helpless form before me, the things I could do, the ways I could drive her deeper into her headspace, the total control and the way she was reacting to my actions despite her immobilized form. I picked up my deerskin flogger, tracing her form with its soft, buttery leather tails. I softly brought the flogger down on her breasts, then harder, harder, falling into a rhythm. I moved my impact point up and down her body, letting her feel the flogger’s touch, over and over again.

As I ran my ice-filled hands up and down her form again, I glanced up at the clock and was amazed to see how much time had passed. She’d been in the vacuum bed for over half an hour, and although I knew we both could do this for hours, I also knew that for her first time, I should take it easy. Still, I wouldn’t release her without one final thing I wanted to do.

I reached over and picked up my Hitachi magic wand, my favorite toy to use. The magic wand always reduced her to an orgasmic mess, and I pressed its bulbous head to her left nipple. Switching it on to the low setting, I ran it across her sheathed breast, and she shuddered as she felt its vibrations echoing through the latex and her breast. I played it across both breasts, listening to her breathing as she became entranced by the feeling, and then across her stomach and down toward her pussy. As the head of the vibrating wand settled on her clit, I thumbed it to high and pressed inward.

As one hand guided the wand, my other hand slid up and down her sheathed form, then slapped her thighs, her breasts, then returned to rubbing. As always, the wand did its work quickly. She bucked and shook as the vibrations sunk into her clitoris, and she screamed into the breathing tube as all her pent-up energy released into one massive orgasm. I leaned in farther, and it took only seconds for a second one to erupt, and a third. I held the wand there for minutes, letting her orgasm herself out, until she was panting and couldn’t handle it anymore, before thumbing it off, placing it aside, and kneeling between her legs to gently lick the latex-sheathed lips of her vagina. She eased down, guided by my tongue, until her body was still and her breathing returned to normal.

I lay next to her for minutes, letting her feel my form and weight, caressing her gently, before releasing the pressure and letting the bed re-inflate. I gently guided her out from between the sheets and into my arms, covering her with a light blanket, guiding the straw from a glass of water between her lips and letting her drink until she was hydrated again. I gently rocked her in my arms as she found her way back to the real world from the headspace she had drifted into, that safe place in her mind that she could only find under my control. She suddenly, impulsively bent her neck to plant a kiss on my cheek, and her hand tentatively reached back to run her fingers across my hair, then grasped me on the back of my neck lightly and planted a kiss on my lips. “I love you, Master,” she said softly, then nuzzled her head into the space between my shoulder and collarbone, and we sat there silently, drinking in each other’s warmth, until she found the strength to be able to speak again.

28.07.09