No Champagne.

Written by Benjamin.
Edited by Aemilia Hawk.

A story about one of our play sessions that my Benjamin has been asking me to write for some time. However, lately I have not been in the mood to write short stories. So, I told him to write up the story from his perspective and that I would publish it on the blog after adding to it and editing it.

Enjoy.

It was a Tuesday evening and I made my way to the dungeon for the usual session with my Mistress. I thought it would just be a regular session. I was wrong.

On arriving at the house doorway, I paused slightly in the entryway before ringing the bell. It is very similar to visiting the dentist. There is a clean smell but at the same time, an unnerving sense. Once you step beyond the barred metal door, you give up all rights and you are at the whim of the Mistress to do as she pleases.

I rang the doorbell and waited for the clicking sound of heels which I normally hear as Mistress approaches the door to let me inside. I waited and I listened. I heard no sound this time.

Suddenly the door opened. It was the house slave.

“Good evening, the Mistress is expecting you and is awaiting your arrival upstairs.” he said with a welcoming smile.

I glanced at my watch to double check that I had arrived on time. I was a few minutes early.

“Is everything alright?” I asked as I stepped through to the hallway.

“Everything is fine, the Mistress is waiting for you in the purple room tonight, she demanded that you be sent up as soon as you arrived. Enjoy your evening.”

As I made my way up the thin staircase, I could see the dull glow from the dungeons candles seeping through the curtain door and as I entered, the first thing I saw is Mistress sitting on her Iron throne, smoking a cigarette and looking quite relaxed.

I try my hardest not to show any nerves. She always says that she can smell fear. So far she has never been wrong. But I manage to greet her as normal. There was a short silence as I waited for her reply. The tone of her voice can usually give away some clues as to how heavy the evenings play will be, but this time the words were soft and sensual.

“Come here.”

I approached slowly to stand in front of her and I offered her my usual gift which she accepted gracefully. There was a certain glint in her eye as she placed the gift to one side and in a single word told me to undress.

My nerves kicked in again. Normally I am undressed by the time she enters the dungeon but I turned away and begin to do as I was told.

“Face me. I wish to watch.”

With her watchful gaze upon me, I returned to face her and begin to take off my clothes piece by piece to place neatly in the corner. She smiled as I removed the last item and then gestured to the floor in front of where she sat. A signal of her wish to have me kneel at her feet.

After a few peaceful moments of sensation, Mistress running her claws through my hair and behind my ears, she leaned forward and whispered for me to stand in front of the slanted post, which I did immediately. She followed, but slowly. Standing from her throne and making sure every click of her heel could be savored as she walked towards me.

Normally just my hands and feet are secured, but this time she also secured my waist and made sure my movement would be limited.

“I want you fully secure tonight” She said in her voice like silk. “You will understand why in a few moments.”

I took in a deep breath and tried to think of something to say. I decided that it is probably best to say nothing at all.

Once secure, Mistress walked slowly towards the door, pausing only briefly to turn and smile at me before disappearing out. She returned a minute later carrying a large black box with silver accents. There was no mistaking her vintage violet wand (Angele) which she placed directly next to me on a waist height spanking stool.

My trepidation built as she took her time connecting all of the leads into the machine along with the body contact pad attachment. Then slowly lifting one side of her Steampunk skirt to reveal her left stocking top, she sensually slid the pad inside. For me this was breathtaking to watch, but unexpectedly she then lifted the other side of her ruffled skirt to reveal a small dagger tucked inside the top of her other stocking.

The dagger was tenderly removed and Mistress stood for a few moments before me, watching my expressions intently and caressing the blade tip with her claws. When she is not pressured for time, she likes to take her time, which can be all the more unnerving.

Eventually, she turned to one side and switched on Angele. The machine is not like a modern violet wand which would hum and whirr, Angele rumbles and growls, and had now electrified both my Mistress and the dagger in her hand.

Mistress returned her gaze and looked at me with such tenderness that I became oblivious to what she was about to do. The look in her eyes was one of content and pure confidence as she leaned in close to press the dagger against my chest and hold it still against the skin.

The initial shock of cold steel upon the skin outweighed the electrical discharge. As long as the dagger was pressed firmly and not moved, the electricity would not be felt.

“Now you see why I want you secure” she said softly as her body leaned in close for a few moments to press against mine.

And then it happened; she quickly stepped back and drew the dagger in a diagonal line across the bare of my chest. With the electricity running through it, it had the same sensation as if the knife was burning through the flesh and cutting deeply. A red line appeared in its wake, tracing the daggers branding and you could smell the scent of burning flesh.

Mistress paused and held the knife still, stopping the pain. She then leaned in close, again to press her body against mine before tracing the line she had just drawn across my chest with a claw. She deeply inhaled the scent in the air and a grin of utter pleasure formed on her lips.

“No Champagne” She said in that deceptive soft tone and referring to our normal safe word, revoking the privilege.

So, I took in a deep breath, closed my eyes and tried my best to find my sub space.

Nothing but truth.

In attendance to my local munch (Swindon’s friendly munch 18/07/12) I had stirred curiosity in a couple of the younger mundane locals. Casual conversation ensued with a visit to the taverns outside smoking area. As you do (or as most mundane smokers do, probably).

“You have until I finish my cigarette.” I said as I pulled out and lit a jet black slimline Djarum. “Whatever questions you have in mind, I promise you will receive nothing but truth.”

“May I ask some questions too?” The more vocal of the two queried.

“If you must.” I stated as I blew a plume of smoke in the direction of the quiet one. My eyes stayed on him regardless of who spoke for the duration of the conversation. The quiet ones usually end up being the more interesting.

“You are a Mistress?”
“Yes.”
“Could I visit your dungeon?”
“Yes.”
“What would happen if I did?”
“That would depend on my mood.”
“Would it hurt?”
“Probably.”
“Then why would I want to visit?”
“You will know the answer to that question if you ever decide to visit.”
“Why are you being so mysterious?”
“Perhaps you are just asking the wrong questions.”

There was a short pause as both mundanes looked in thought as to what to ask next.

“Any question at all.” I restated as I gestured casually to the quiet one. My cigarette had roughly reached its halfway point and I gently waved it in front of his face for emphasis. “Your time is running out.”

“I am trying to think of how to word it.” The quiet one said as he shifted shyly on the spot.
“Usually the best way to word something is to simply say it.” I stated with an amused smirk.

The vocal one spoke again.

“Your teeth look very sharp”
“Not as sharp as my claws.” I stated as I held up my empty hand so that he could get a decent look. My eyes were still fixed on the silent one and the slightly amused smirk still played at the corner of my mouth.

“Are they real?”
“Yes, though coated with acrylic resin for strength so that they are functional.”
“Functional for what?”
“What do you think?” I stated as I glanced at the vocal one for the first time since the conversation had started. I raised an eyebrow and he smiled with an open mouth. It seemed as though he was attempting to think of a witty retort but one never came. Instead, he looked to the floor, still smiling. “Time is up.” I said as I glanced back to the quiet one and exhaled the last plume of clove scented smoke.

“Why should I trust you?” The quiet one suddenly said as I flicked my cigarette end into the closest ashtray.
“I offer a safe and legal environment, a gentle introduction and everything is consensual.” I said as I passed him my business card and made my way back towards the bar area.

I stopped in the entrance arch and glanced back to see him looking at the number on my card. “Good question.” I stated with a slightly crooked grin.