Introduction

 

There is a distinct but almost inaudible sound as the half-round sections of hardened steel handcuffs close and lock securely together. Most people wouldn't recognize the unique clicks as the catch runs across the many little metal teeth, but Jack does.

To him it's the sound of flowing water over a boulder-filled brook. It's the wind through the leafless branches of cool autumn trees. It's an overly exciting pleasure that stirs his soul and stimulates his senses.

Jack Murdock hears the multi-ratcheted song differently. The melody arouses the sexual animal that dwells within him. It stirs his deeply seated need for physical pain, unending suffering, public humiliation and inescapable bondage, because these are the only keys to his sexual satisfaction. It is irrepressible. He's a masochist with a deeply imbedded need and desire.

It was kindled in his mind and branded into the inner-most sections of his soul ever since the first ropes were wound around his wrists long before puberty. The ever-burning fire was constantly fanned by self-bondage and became a raging inferno by his own pain-induced orgasms.

There was no controlling the fiery lust and unusual craving that smoldered within him. It was a flame that couldn't be extinguished. In his early teens Jack secretly worshipped his female classmates. They were his fantasy Mistresses. By pretending to be their slave and painfully suffering for them, he experienced his greatest pleasures.

Jack tried to live a normal life, but his fetish was always a skeleton in his closet. He was a very successful businessman, making a considerable fortune by his late twenties. Through careful planning, well-chosen opportunities and a bit of luck, he had everything. Everything except what he desired most in life. He needed a beautiful sadistic Mistress who would possess his soul, while making him grovel at her feet, suffer beneath her agonizing whips and live forever as her willing slave.

Once he met Samantha there was no turning back. She was everything he ever craved. Deep down inside he knew he would do whatever was necessary to satisfy his lifelong desire.

At the conclusion of Samantha's Slave, the first book in this series, Jack is given the opportunity to be free. After a year of slavery, he can just walk away and return to his life before Samantha. But, he can't. He has to have her, knowing that the immense pain and incredible suffering he has endured is just a small taste of what is to come if he stays.

He is in love with her, with her whips and her many torture devices. In his mind he has no choice. Nothing else in life matters.

And so, as the cuffs tightly close with just three little clicks, his cock starts to grow, his blood begins to boil but his thirst for pain remains forever unquenched.

Chapter One

Against the wall and spread 'em...

 

People were rushing up and down the streets and avenues like a colony of ants that had just found a picnic in the park. Back and forth and in and out they went, continually moving at an increased rhythm, constantly on the go. I sat about half-way back on the blue and white metro bus as it slowly made its way through the bumper to bumper traffic up the boulevard from the marina area of the city.

Through the dark tinted window I could see the masts of my sloop as it rested on the quiet water of the harbor. It was once a major part of my life before I chose to become Samantha's slave. Being owned and totally dominated by a beautiful, sadistic woman was a lifetime fantasy. It was all I really ever wanted. Now it is a reality.

As the bus passed the old Washburn Factory, I could see the smile on my face. The dark brick wall made the window act like a carnival mirror, reflecting my soul. I had found my place in life, and I was happy.

The regular people out there were working and shopping, doing what they had to do in their everyday world, but not me because my life is far from normal. I had just spent the entire morning on my knees servicing a beautiful blond Goddess with my tongue and getting nothing in return.

It was not what I was supposed to do today, but as a slave to my Mistress and her overly demanding sisters, I had no choice. I had to obey even if there were dire consequences awaiting me later. My Mistress had sent me to Marcy's apartment to do the weekly cleaning, laundry and such, but all I did was bring her sister to a dozen moments of sexual pleasure. The only thing that got cleaned was her hungry, unsatisfiable pussy.

The bus made numerous stops as it trudged its way out into the suburbs. Every time someone got off or on I realized that time was quickly passing by, and it would have an affect on the painful punishment that I would receive when I finally got home.

But what could I do? I lost my car to my Mistress many months ago, and now I was at the mercy of the damned city bus. So when I finally got home, I would pay the price for my habitual tardiness.

Finally the bus arrived. I walked as fast as I could from the corner bus stop. Actually I could hurry all I wanted, but it would make no difference. I was already late. It was nearly one o'clock, and my Mistress had expected her lunch by noon.

As I walked in the front door my Mistress yelled at me. "You're late again, slave!"

"I know, Mistress. I'm very sorry, Mistress Samantha, but Marcy...." I tried to explain, but she wasn't interested in any of my excuses.

I was in serious trouble; I mean really deep shit. It seems that almost every time I go to Marcy's place to do my regular cleaning, I end up getting a good thrashing when I get home. You see, Samantha's youngest sister is a nymphomaniac. She loves her continuous orgasms and really enjoys causing me pain and punishment. She skips work many of the days that I have to clean my old condo where she now lives.

She intentionally caused me to be late again, and there was absolutely no way to talk my way out of it. It wasn't my fault. Samantha really knew it, but it didn't make any difference. Nothing would change my awaited fate.

"But Marcy wouldn't let...."

"Silence, slave! I don't want to hear any of your feeble excuses," she continued. "I sent you to clean my sister's apartment this morning and gave you explicit orders to be home by noon. You're an hour late. I have things planned for the afternoon and now I'm going to be late."

Without another word I sank to my knees, humbling myself before my Goddess, groveling at her feet. "Please forgive me, Mistress. It won't happen again."

"Well, I can't bother wasting any more time. I've waited too long already. Go get me a pair of handcuffs and a nice stiff crop. You can undress except for your bra and panties. Hurry up! Oh, pick up my soiled undies from the hamper in my bathroom and bring them along as well. Now move it!"

It only took me a couple of minutes to follow her instructions. I wondered what she had in mind as she indicated for me to follow her into the back yard and over next to the privacy fence.

"Since you made me wait for you all morning, you can wait for me this afternoon," she said as she locked my hands behind my back in the sturdy steel cuffs. "Step back and put your feet on those spots in the grass. See 'em?"

On the ground next to my feet were two small white spots that had been painted there with a spray can. They were about two feet apart and a foot and a half from the wooden wall.

As I settled my feet onto the designated places she said, "Now lean forward and place your nose against the wall. That's it, just a little higher."

She placed her wonderful sweet pussy-scented panties so my nose held them against the rough, hard surface of the barrier fence. With every breath I would inhale the unique and enchanting essence of my Mistress.

"Your nose is on a very tiny spot that I put on the wall. I want you to stand here and not move. You can wait for me until I decide to return. If you move from that exact spot or let my panties fall, I will whip your balls for an hour. Understand?"

"Yes, mistress."

Before she left, Samantha stepped back and picked up the whip. She never spoke but I could hear the tell-tale sound of the long, thin leather-wrapped crop. It hissed through the air and slashed against my butt. Like a large evil snake it burned a fiery swath across both ass cheeks. I remained silent as she cocked her arm for a second strike. It immediately found another waiting spot of tender flesh to leave its fiery hot bite.

Again and again she raised heavy welts across my derrière. They hurt terribly but the immediate pain would soon cease, becoming just a dull ache soon after the initial assault had ended. Soon she tired of the game, but two dozen black and blue marks would linger and bear witness to my punishment.

Almost immediately I could feel a slight strain in my back. I was positioned so I really couldn't stand with my feet flat on the ground. I was forced to put most of my weight on my nose and the balls of my feet. I knew it wouldn't be long before the over-stretched muscles in the backs of my legs would start to revolt as well.

I inhaled deeply letting her lustful scent charge my batteries for I knew that I would be here for a long time. I had a price to pay. Now it was my turn to wait for her.

There was pressure on my nose as it supported my entire upper body against the wall, but a slight movement allowed me to use my forehead as well for my three point stance, but that put more stress on my legs and feet. Beads of sweat already dotted my brow as I stood there and waited. I knew it would be a long afternoon standing here almost naked in the blazing hot sun, but I had no choice. No matter what, I would obey my Mistress and wait for her.

It wasn't long before I was able to relax just a little. With nothing else to do, my mind clouded into a kind of trance. Thoughts of my consensual servitude sort of made me smile. I was getting everything that I had dreamed of for so many years and so much more. Ever since I was a little child I had been fascinated with bondage. I loved being tied up as a game with the neighbor kids. It was long before puberty that the attraction to ropes and chains became imbedded in my mind. In fact my very first orgasm was the result of some tight ropes and unpleasant afternoon bondage at the hands of my friends and an old maple tree.

For years I had to be content mainly with self bondage, but after puberty it became a totally sexual obsession. I'd tie myself up and immediately get a hard-on. Just having those masochistic thoughts drove me into an unsatisfiable frenzy. I didn't really know what it was, but I had to have the bondage and the pain that accompanied it to quench my strange, addicting thirst. Quite often as I would struggle against my overly tight bindings I would have amazing ejaculations. Those orgasms were far more powerful than any that happened just from jerking off.

Sure as a teenager, I'd spank my monkey several times a day. I was a normal guy, well almost. As I befriended the rough wooden wall, I thought about a time in junior high school. It was the eighth grade. I had study hall during the third period. Every morning just like clockwork, I would sit there and for no apparent reason get a real boner. I first thought it was because of the little blond that sat just diagonally in front of me. I'd stare at her beautiful body. She had the nicest little titties. They stood right out and really made those tight sweaters look great. Her round tight ass sat on top of those long, slender legs. God she looked good squeezed into a pair of real tight jeans. I liked to watch her and she knew it. I could just sit there and stare at that body all day long.

About twice a week, I'd head down to the bathroom and jerk off with her image fixed in my mind.

Even if she was absent, I'd get hard. It never failed. A ten o'clock erection, right on time, everyday. Her being there or not didn't make any difference.

Many times I would sit there with a raging boner and imagine several of the girls tying me up and making me do a bunch of humiliating things for them. I guess it was my first thoughts of being a slave. As I stood there against the wall, it was hard to fathom that I've had such fantasies for more that twenty years.

I guess it was about that same time that I had a weird dream one night while sleeping. Sandy, that pretty little blond, was dragging me down the main hallway of our school by my balls. A rope was tied tightly around them, which she used, yanking me roughly along. Tremendous pain filled my swollen, purple plums as she stretched them to the limit. The bell had just rung and classes were changing. Everyone in the whole school was there watching as I hurried behind her, naked with my hands tied behind my back and her books hanging by a rope around my neck. The mob of kids separated like the parting of the Red Sea as she paraded me along, exposing my raging hard-on to everyone.

Suddenly I woke up to a mess in my white BVD's and on the sheets of my bed. My cock had exploded in a spectacular wet dream.

God, it was wonderful. I laid there and relished in the moment. Finally I slipped out of my now-stained briefs and sucked the sticky jism from the soft white fabric. I pretended that Sandy was making me do it.