Part 1..... 1. The Circle of Light She stood in the center of the room with her hands at her sides. Even at a distance of eight feet the heat from the fireplace at her back was uncomfortable. She felt a trickle of sweat run from her left armpit down her left side. Despite her effort to remain motionless, she shivered. "You were told to be still." His voice was in front of her. He spoke quietly, but the sound of his voice rekindled some excite- ment. Her hands grasped the sides of her skirt in an effort to keep her arms from moving. She tried to slow her breathing, to regain her composure. His voice, so familiar from the hours on the telephone, now so strange sounding in-person, helped her to endure the waiting. Not seeing him made her uneasy. When she'd rung the doorbell she'd expected him to be there, but instead the door opened on an empty corridor, empty but for the note on the threshold. She'd read the note and followed the terse instructions. She walked the length of the corridor, found the large room, then stood quietly in the center with her back to the fireplace. The longer she waited the more foolish she felt. The room was sparsely furnished and the high, flat ceiling made her feel small. Then the spotlights illuminating her became brighter so that she couldn't see beyond the lighted circle. The perimeter of the room was hidden in shadow. When his voice sounded again, it came from far to her right. She started, glanced over to the shadows, saw nothing. "Are you ready?" Oh, was she ready! But when she tried to reply her throat was constricted and she found herself nodding her head. "Undress." Again, from the right. She fumbled with the buttons of her blouse then let it slide from her arms to the floor. His voice, suddenly on her left, told her to fold her clothes neatly. She retrieved the blouse, folded it carefully, then placed it on the floor in front of her. As she undressed she felt as nervous as a teenager, but secretly she relished the anxiety and so perhaps undressed faster than she had planned. Yes, she had planned this! Finally she added her panties to the small pile of clothing, moved her shoes to the top of the pile, then stood straight again with her hands at her sides. She guessed that he was examining her. She heard footsteps as he walked around her in the shadows and knew that he was appraising her. She shivered again and turned red as goosebumps appeared on her flesh. God! Was she ever this nervous before? Surely not in her teens or in the twenty years since! He'd said her appearance was not important, but she'd not believed him. But she expected some reactions from him, some compliments or other sounds of appreciation. She received silence. An occasional 73 footstep as he moved around her, but no vocal sounds. She did not hear him come up behind her until his hands seized her shoulders and turned her to face him. He drew her into his arms and held her quietly. His lips brushed her hair and moved down to nuzzle her throat. He slid his hands down her back and clasped them together behind her ass to press her tightly against him. His left arm went around her waist and squeezed her closer. Then, very slowly, his right hand spanked her. At first the sudden stings caused her to try to squirm out of his grasp. Her hands flew behind her to block the spanks. He whispered a reminder for her to stand still with her hands at her sides. She really looked at him now, at his glaring eyes and the firm line of his mouth. Then, she stood erect and moved her hands to her sides. The spanking resumed. He struck her flesh with the flat of his hand in a slow cadence, but he struck harshly and confined the smacks to the base of her ass. She willed herself to accept the punishment stoically. She never displayed weakness before any man and she believed he would not be an exception, especially if he thought he could impress her with a childish punishment. She had not counted on the severity of the smacks or on the cumulative effects of the prolonged spanking. As her buttocks became hot she started to wince. Soon she was whimpering. She felt her loins push against him under the force of the spanks. She knew he was enjoying her discomfort; as each smack drove her against him she could feel his cock twitch against her lower belly. The spanks seemed to get harder, the sting to get hotter. She started to cry. But as her vision blurred she felt herself push her ass back to meet his palm and so became an active participant in continuing her travail. He responded by tightening his grasp of her waist and increasing the speed of the spanking. She broke into sobs then and cried against his shoulder. He paused, delivered an especially severe spank, and held his hand pressed into her smarting skin. She continued to bawl as his hand slowly relieved the pressure and gently rubbed her tender ass. He lifted her chin and kissed her eyes, tasting her tears before pressing his lips on hers and kissing her deeply. As he stepped back from her she found it difficult to stand. Her legs seemed unstable, her ass burned, and yet she felt alive and excited. When he told her to lie down she did so with too much enthusiasm; even soft carpeting feels harsh against freshly spanked buttocks. Then, as she stretched herself out she became self- conscious again, watching him stand above her, feeling his eyes on her. (So intense! Did her never smile?) At last he knelt beside her, took her left wrist in his hands and raised it high above her head. She couldn't see how he tied it, but she felt him wrap something soft about her wrist before stretching her arm up and out and securing it to something at floor level. When he did the same with her right wrist she strained to watch him, but she couldn't really see anything. Her apprehension increased momentarily when he reached for her right ankle, extended her leg wide, and tied it tightly, but when he tied her left ankle she resigned herself to helplessness and found that she trusted him. When he rose and gazed down at her the open vulnerability of her spreadeagled position resurrected her nervousness, but she found she was excited to be so exposed to him and so helpless to prevent him from using her as he wished. She couldn't believe his words! Not move? The demand seemed absurd. But she remembered how fierce the whip looked and steeled herself to be still. He allowed her to wait for a few minutes, knowing any delay would increase her anxiety; he was almost right. While he paused, her mind was most busy. The whip had frightened her. She had enough experience to know that the control she craved would be a silly game unless her partner carried through with her punishment. She knew that some pain was necessary; without genuine pain her fears would be mere affectations. She knew that love-making was most pleasurable for her when gentleness was mixed with roughness. She enjoyed all the passions, but what she enjoyed most was a climax experienced in a milieus of masculine control, with just enough terror to keep her excited ("interested" was how she usually described it). She feared the whip. Yet, she knew he would use it on her; he had to keep her honest. It was one thing to submit to a spanking -- it hurt, but it was an intimate, sexual hurt. If he were to control her, he must punish her; the spanking wasn't genuine punishment. The whip would be. Despite her fear, she was resigned to feel the lash --it was the inevitable price she had to pay to make her experience valid. She hoped she'd take it well. (Hmmm. Was she more afraid of embarrassment than pain?) Her thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly cupped both her breasts in his hands and squeezed harshly. Her initial gasp was soon followed by a throaty moan. He released the pressure and took hold of her nipples. He rolled them slowly between his thumbs and forefingers before beginning to pinch. The pinches were applied very lightly initially, but gradually over the space of several minutes he applied increased force. This was not a novel experience for her; she loved having men play with her nipples. It excited her when they rolled her tits and she enjoyed the discomfort that accompanied light pinches. But the pressure of his fingers now started to exceed the levels she enjoyed. The arousal was as strong as ever, but the discomfort was turning into pain, pain of such a nature that she found herself simultaneously wishing it would end and wanting it to continue. He continued to pinch harder. The pain was over- whelming. Her moans turned to cries. She tossed her head from side to side and screamed for him to stop. He responded not with any release of pressure, but by pulling on her nipples, thus lifting and distending her breasts. She howled. She begged and pleaded with him to stop. He held her nipples tightly. Suddenly he released his grip and again cupped her breasts in his hands, this time quite gently. He could feel her swollen nipples digging into his palms. Her cries quickly subsided. Her nipples still throbbed, but the pain was no longer excessive. She allowed herself to relax and began to enjoy his touch. Slowly he lifted his palms from her breasts so that only his finger tips remained in contact. Then, very slowly, he resumed tracing lazy circles, this time on her breasts instead of around them. She found that the sharp pains had faded to a dull ache while his light touch was reawakening her desire. Gradually his fingertips traced a spiral centered on her nipples. His fingers at last reached her aureolas and she felt the sides of his fingers brush against the sides of her nipples. The touch thrilled her and she wondered if he was going to torment her nipples again. She found that she both craved and feared that he would. Indeed, she was disappointed when his fingers began to trace an outward spiral. His fingers were moving less slowly now, but slowly enough that it teased and frustrated her. In time the spiral took his fingertips off her breasts entirely and they moved around them in an expanding spiral. This time he did not keep circling her breasts with his fingers. Rather, as they moved around the outsides of her breasts they continued down her sides. The touch of his fingers on her ribcage was almost tickling, but their intended direction kept he mind on possible destinations. His hands reached her hips before moving centrally. His fingertips moved over her belly and then very lightly brushed her pubic hair before skipping down to plant themselves on her legs, just above her knees. The same feather touch now made long, slow strokes upward along her inner thighs. These strokes were repeated over and over again in the most frustrating manner; each caress ended higher on her thighs than its predecessor until his fingertips almost, but not quite, reached her crotch. She remembered his order not to move, but she couldn't help her- self. Soon she was contorting herself in an effort to thrust her pussy against his hands. He anticipated all of her movements and thoroughly enjoyed teasing her in this fashion. When her motion became excessive, he pinched the tender flesh of her inner thighs. She squealed appropriately and dampened her movements. He resumed stroking her legs, but varied the touch and direction to keep her aroused. Finally he allowed one fingertip to touch her perineum, most tentatively, and then move forward along the outer edges of her labia. She seemed to sigh with relief, but what relief there was short-lived. Soon his fingers were titillating her vagina with repeated light strokes. He kept his fingers away from her clitoris, but continued to tease and arouse her by varying the speed and locus of his touches. Once he started to insert one finger into her, but only for a fraction of the first joint. She reacted by redoubling her movements only to find his touches completely withdrawn. The sudden lack of contact drove her wild. It never occurred to her that she might be about to feel the whip so consumed with desire was she. Instead she alternately begged him to take her, or when there was no response, cursed him thoroughly. When he finally touched her again it was a warm, moist probe that suddenly touched her left nipple. She knew immediately that it was his tongue that slowly circled and throbbed against her tit. Then she felt him close his lips on the nipple, thrilled as he sucked it, and gasped when his teeth started to close on it. The bite was not nearly as painful as the earlier pinches, but it scared her. Her fear vanished when his mouth slowly moved from her left to her right breast and repeated the entire process. His lips now kissed her between her breasts and then moved slowly down the center of her abdomen. The kissing and licking continued all the way to her pubis. There he withdrew contact and she feared a replay of the teasing pattern he'd used with his hands. Instead, his hands took hold of her hips and a moment later she felt the tip of his tongue prod the hood of her clit. His tongue was no less teasing, however, and she screamed in frustration as it moved between her labia, almost but not quit penetrating her. He repeated this many times, always at a different pace, but never fast enough to satisfy her. She found herself getting higher and higher, knowing a frustration that was exasperating. She found her voice again and begged, then demanded that he satisfy her, as though she were in any position to demand anything. Then, with the now usual suddenness, his tongue was withdrawn. His hands slid down her legs to her ankles. When he slackened but did not remove the bindings on her ankles she knew she was soon to be fucked. His hands returned to her hips but then slid under her buttocks. He grasped her buttocks tightly and forced her to rotate her hips forward. Moments later she felt another warm probe on her clitoris and she wondered whether it was his cock or his tongue. When it slid between her labia she knew it was his cock and she tried to thrust herself onto it. His hands tightened on her buttocks and thwarted her movement, but she did not have a long wait. Seconds later he thrust himself into her. He held himself deep inside her for a moment before slowly with- drawing. He paused again when only the head of his cock was within her, then thrust inward again. He repeated this action several times, varying only the length of each pause. Then he gradually started to speed up his movements. She moved to meet his thrusts and was only a little surprised when his hands relaxed their grip to allow her. He was pumping at a rapid pace now and she was very close to climaxing. He started to spank her, each smack timed to match a deep thrust of his cock. She was close to bursting then and lost herself in the exquisite sensations. When his cock exploded, he bent forward and bit one nipple. She responded with a starburst of passion. Later she would try to remember details and fail totally. All she could recall was the strange mixture of pleasure and pain that carried her into ecstasy. She wondered if the blindfold inhibited memory. When he released her his manner hadn't changed. He showed her the whip and told her she had much to learn. Then he left her standing again in the circle of light. His voice told her she could dress and leave. He also told her that her next session would severely test her. As she dressed she examined herself and found that she had a dark bruise where his spanks had landed. Her left nipple also seemed discolored. Despite those vivid reminders, she didn't want to leave. When the spotlights faded and she could see the walls of the room, she saw that she was alone. The fire had almost died out and the cabinet that held the whip was again locked. She slowly walked down the corridor and out the door. [END OF PART 1]