Serene Divine

Sophia lays there, controlling her breathing, staring at Stephen. Shes not exactly sure why hes regarding her with indifference.
“How have I displeased you, Stephen? Havent I suffered enough for you?”
Hes listening to her with half interest. Its as if hes been distracted. Even during her final beating, he seemed withdrawn.
“I suppose you have. For now. Your body needs time to heal, and if you were to undergo another whipping, Im afraid you would bleed. And how would we explain that to the Doctor?”
She laughs at this, in spite of herself. “I guess you have a vaild point.”
She sits up, drawing the covers up over herself. Shes getting sleepy again, but she doesnt want to spend another minute in the room.
Everything seems too bright, sterile. She feels as if her presence is making things unclean. The messed up bed sheets, covered in her sweat, the glaring walls soaked in her tears, her cries, her screams.
“I really do wan to leave from here. I feel Ive been through hell, and now, I just want to be alone.”
She slides off the bed, and picks her clothes up. She gets dressed again, keeping her eyes on him the entire time.
“Please, can we just go?”
He hears in her tone of voice, something broken. So it was possible. This strong stubborn woman could be, and is, broken.
“Sure. Lets go home. Lets get you cleaned up, and in your pajamas. Its late, and youve been put through enough.”
He reaches his hand out to hers. She accepts, and they walk out of the room, hand in hand.
They walk into the living room, where Alex is sitting on the couch, shoes off, and talking on his cell phone. He sees Stephen and Sophie, and pulls the phone away from his ear.
“Sophie and I thank you for a most pleasant evening. I hope we will see you later on, Alex. You are a great host.”
Alex was eyeing Stephen with uneasiness. He doesnt like the idea of her leaving with him. Hell, he doesnt like the idea of Sophia leaving period. Hes gotten rather attatched to her over the course of the evening.
” Youre quite welcome Stephen. And Sophia, my home is open to you whenever youd like to get away from it all.”
She whispers her thanks and gratitude.
“Alex, Sir, may I please have my purse and sandals? Im ready to go home and relax.”
As Alex walks to a closet, he thinks that theres something odd, something different about her. She seems smaller, fragile, even. He frowns to himself. Hes not liking this new form of herself.
He walks back to her, her sandals and purs in hand.
“Here you go, Sophia. I was hoping youd spend the rest of the evening with me. But since you wish to go, I wont try to persuade you to stay. May I have the priveledge to call on you, though?”
She is taken aback by his request. She looks at Alex, taking her shoes, and purse. She looks to Stephen. He stays silent, looking at Alex through narrow eyes.
“Um. I suppose I would like that Alex. Sure. Yes, yes you are welcome to visit me. I am flattered that you would like my company.”
She slips her shoes on, and instinctively grabs Stephens arm. Alex walks them to the door, and notices, for the first time, bruised ugly welts all over her legs.
“Sophia, please. Stay. I need to talk to you. If need be, I can run you home. Stephen, please go on. Ill bring her home, thanks.”
Sophia is looking back and forth between Alex and Stephen. She stays silent, standing still.
Stephen walks out the door, seething. He feels theres a change in her already. Aside from being broken, he thinks that theres something else going on in her mind. And he doesnt like her thoughts being closed off to him.
Alex and Sophia watch him walk out the door.
“What did you need to talk to me about? What did I do wrong?”
She was trying real hard not to cry. She thinks something is amiss.
“Please, sit down. No, better yet, follow me.”
He walks through the massive living room, down another hallway. This side of the house is warm, welcome. He takes her into a large well lit bathroom. The bathtub is old fashioned, raised off the ground, with lion paws as its support. Its deep, inviting.
Alex turns the faucets, and adds some lavendar oils to the water. He stands behind her, and unzips her dress. He unclasps her bra. And he notices all the welts, the bruises. They are raised, and they are ugly.
“Poor girl. Are you in pain? Are you sore? Do you need anything? Do you know that you are loved?”
She slid into the warm bath tub, the scent filling the bathroom, covering her skin. She closes her eyes, trying to relax.
Alexs questions are bouncing around her head. Is she loved? Depends on what your definition of what love is.
“Yes Alex, I am sore. And in pain, oh yes, God yes.”
Her voice was still rough, scratchy. She spoke in harsh whispers. Her throat felt swollen, dry.
Alex grabs a stool, and sets it beside the bathtub. He grabs a cup, and dips into the water.
He pours it over her back, careful not to scald her, careful not to rub her welts too hard.
“Why did you let him do this to you? Stand up dear. Dont you know that you have a voice? That just because youre submissive, and slightly masochistic, you dont have to take this punishment. Yes, I set the cane on the table. But understand this Sophia.” He knelt in front of her, locking his eyes on hers. “The cane wasnt meant for your skin. It was meant for just your mind. To taunt, to torment. Is that understood?”
She stands in the tub, fully aware of her nakedness. But shes not ashamed. She bears her welts and stripes without a sound.
“I am aware of all this, Alex. And I begged, I screamed. He wasnt listening. He didnt care. I think that he wanted to break me completely.”
Alex was so gentle with her legs. Soaping them up with his hands, careful not to make her cry. But she cries anyways. Cries buckets.
She cries at her being so easily broken. For her wantoness. For her deliberate misbehaving, for every action shes ever taken.
Her body is shaking, shoulders heaving. Shes trying to hard to remain quiet. Suddenly, she sinks into the water, and buries her face into her hands.
She tries so hard to regain control of herself, but gives up. She gives into the tears, and lets Alex bathe and wash her hair.
“Ok beautiful. Time to get out, come on.”
He holds out a giant fluffy towel. She steps into it, forever grateful to his presence.
He wraps her up, and takes her arm gently. He walks out of the bathroom, and crosses the hall.
They enter a dimly lit bedroom. All she can see is the giant bed in the center of the room. She looks up at him, with warmth in her puffy hazle, bright green eyes.
“Go on, beautiful pet. Crawl into it. You need to sleep.”
She climbs into the warm bed. The sheets are soft, welcoming. Laying her head on a pillow, shes staring at Alex.
“Thank you for everything. Thank you for valuing me, Alex. I wish I was yours.”
She yawns and drifts off to sleep, thinking of Alex, totally oblivious to the stripes on her body.
Alex stands at the door, watching her, returning her sleepy smile.
“Dream sweet, little one.”
And he shuts the door.

FINIT

She kept having the same recurrent dream. She found herself running through some great forest glade, a white wispy gown billowing in the breeze behind her. Footsteps, heavy ones, always chasing her, some dark creature, a beast in pursuit. He always caught her, dark and frightening, his eyes shockingly blue in the face of a handsome demon. He would always bind her, tie her spread eagle between 2 trees, His cock dripping with poison right before thrusting it into her mouth, powerful and veined, a poison serpent creeping in, she could barely get him in as he forced himself down her throat. He would always look down at her, some evil smile plastered on his face and would say, “you want one thing, to be defiled; to be debased into some submissive creature just for me.” She would wake up gagging, gagging not only at the poison being spewed down her throat, but at his words. Never! Not her. She was far too independent to be some object of lust for a man to find his pleasure in.

Her eyes stay locked to his shockingly blue ones, like handcuffs snapping shut as she backs away; she hears a cage slamming, it seems to be around her heart. “Poison,” she whispers to herself and smiles, praying he calls her.

Thoughts tumble through her mind. “Am I supposed to cry out? Am I supposed to beg to stop? Why am I having to go through this? Does Stephen still love me? Did he love me at all? Why cant I—”

Seth was jerking her up by her collar. Her knees were still weak. She barely had time to compose herself, to calm herself down.
Seth took her collar off, tossing it aside. He pushed her to her knees, pushing her face down. He pulled her hair up, clasping a posture collar around her neck.
With this new collar, she found that she could not lower her head. Was she supposed to keep her eyes on him? Was she to witness this new torment? Why is she wearing this?
He pulls her back up by her hair. He grabs her up by the single ring, making her stand on the bed. He grabs some rope off the table, throwing it at her feet. He then climbs up on the bed, pulling the chain that was dangling a good foot above her head.
There was a clasp on the end, and Seth clasps her to this chain. He then grabs Sophies arms, bringing them behind her. He binds her wrists tight. The rope was thick, and he knotted it three times.
“Try to get out of this, girl.”
She squirms her hands, trying to rotate her wrists. She moves her hands across each other, but, they are bound tight.
Her head is being held high, shes eye level with Seth. She locks her eyes to him, clear, but still puffy. He walks around her, spreading her ass, slapping her thighs. He walks in front of her, spreads her legs, examining the fresh bruises lined perfectly on her inner thighs.
He raises her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. Hard enough to bring a moan to her lips.
He turns to Alex, leaving her hanging there, on tip toe, trying to balance, with bound wrists. She finds herself swaying.
“These walls are cork-lined, yes?”
“Of course they are. This is the room best suited to whipping, because I dont care for silence. I love nothing more than seeing a marked up, screaming, sweaty bitch under my hand.”
“Perfect! Gentlemen, I will now ask that you leave me to her.”
The three men walked out the door, through the hallway.Alex set up drinks in the living room, flipping on the television, to drown out the noise from the back room.
Sophia was staring at him. She did not flinch, as he screwed the metal nipple clamps on her. He turned them each three times, making her nipples turn a violent purple.
He pulled the chain a little further down, giving her the balance she needed. Now standing on her feet, she instinctively spread her legs three inches apart.
He walks over to the table, and picks up the slim handled riding crop. He brings it to her lips, running it across them. It felt stiff, cold. The slapper didnt give when she kissed it.
He then raised his arm, and struck her left breast. She tried to sink to her knees, but was held tight by the chain. She cried out, softly, bringing a sting to her skin. A clear red welt was already taking shape. He struck her other breast, watching her intently.
“Are you ready to beg, Sophia?”
He walks up behind her, striking each cheek, with the welts forming, such a bright red against her pale flesh.
He put the crop back, and ran his fingers across a smooth rattan cane. He instead opted for the black knotted cat o nine tails. He gently drags it across her back, watching the chill bumps break out on her skin. He drags it down her thighs, her calves. She wiggles under the soft caresses.
He drages it across her breasts, down her stomach. She lets out soft moans, wimpering under the touches.
Bringing the handle to her lips, she kisses it. He then slid the handle into her mouth, making it slightly wet. He then inserted the handle into her. She lets out a low, gutteral moan, biting on her bottom lip. He twists it, deep inside her, causing her to become wet.
He feels her warmth, and pulls out the handle, placing it again into her mouth. She tastes herself, mixed with the soft leather. She almost gags, but stops herself.
“You dont like the taste of leather, little one?”
She doesnt know if his question is metaphorical, or if hes referring to her choking. She lowers her eyes, remaining quiet.
Seth chuckles to himself, and walks around her. Rubbing her ass roughly, he slowly begins to whip her.
For the most part, she feels alot of air, for which she is grateful for. The braids that do land, vibrate her to the bone.
He increases speed, making her ass red, marked with varying stripes. Moving his wrist in figure eight formation, the braids are landing harder, making her want to sink down. Since she cannot, she tries to turn against it.
Seth moves down to her thighs, so soft, so tender, pale.
He begins whipping her in earnest. Her body begins to glisten with sweat, which, in turn, causes each blow to sting even more.
She is moaning, writhing under the straps. She has no way to wipe the sweat dripping into her eyes.
Seth is nice enough to brush her hair from her face.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She looks at him, lips parted. She wants him to stop, she needs to breathe. She nods her head the best she can.
“Whats that, little girl? I cant hear you.”
And with that, he drew back and whipped her to the point of her screaming out loud.
Her screams were absorbed into the walls. But the gentlemen in the living room heard her loud and clear.
“Stop! Stop, please. Youre ripping me open! Stop it! Stop it….”
So he does. Seth brings the handle back to her lips. She kisses it, tears flowing over her cheeks.
He unties her wrists, unclasps her collar. He holds her by the waist, and with his other hand, massages her rope burned wrists. She wimpers under the touches, feeling faint.
“Im sorry, Im sorry that I cant.”
And she slips to the bed, kneeling, her head touching the bed, tears streaming, shoulders shaking.
He pets her back, running his hand through her hair. Shes still shaking under the coldness, the drying sweat, the burning welts.
“Breathe, little one, breathe. Its all over. No more pain. Just remember that you cant do everything.”
Seth speaks to her in low hushed tones. Still running his hands over her, hes still talking to her.
“Shhh, sweet sweet Sophie. You did an amazing job. Im quite surprised you held out so long. Youre so strong.”
She was slipping towards sleep. She just wants to stretch out across the comforting bed, and sleep.
“Im leaving now, Sophie. Im sure we will run into each other again. And Im turning the light off. But dont worry dear one, youll still have some light to keep you company.”
He brings her head up, kissing her forehead. He lights the candle, and flips the light. Walking out slowly, he blows her a kiss, and shuts the door.
She stares at the flickering flame. Lost in her thoughts, the burning feeling leaves her senses. She supposes that this is what they meant. The pain was hers, but only for a little while.
She was finally calmed inside. Her heart was still beating, she came through this alive. Perhaps even better for it.
And while she is glad its over, she cant help but wonder if she could handle more. Sure, her body had been ransacked, but what if? What if, during all of this, her mind widened just a little bit more? That she could have taken just a few more strokes?
Would they be proud of her, then? But is it even a matter of pride? She doesnt know, but she is so content, so relaxed, the candle lighting up the dark. She sees her shadow dancing on the wall, and she smiles a feline grin to herself.

David decides to stay, to watch, to see her squirm. Unrolling his sleeves, slipping his jacket back on, he leans against the arm of the couch.
She lifts her head, blinking, regarding the men in front of her. She was still on the edge of orgasm, still turned on. But fear was slowly creeping up on her. Laying her head back down, she starts to slip inside herself. Concentrating on breathing, she supposes the whips will be next.

“Lawrence, I have her warmed up. Shes easily able to handle youtr pins now, I believe.”
“Thank you, David.”

Lawrence gets up, and walks over to the armoir. Bending his knees, he slides open the bottom drawer. Pulling out a large bag of clothespins, he walks over to the bed.
Kneeling at the bed, petting her hair, running his hand along her neck, he begins talking to her in a low, hushed, gentle voice.
“Sophia, this is going to start out slow, even pleasurable. But, I will not cease, nor stop, no matter how much you cry, or beg. I want you to breathe. Relax. Dont move too much. I want you to roll with the pinch, the bite of the pain. Take it, make it yours. Of course, when Im through with you, it wont be yours anymore. There is something I need you to do.”
Handing her eight clothespins, and a slim strip of leather, he watches her for reactions.
She sits up, taking the pins and leather strip. She instinctively knows that this will cause much pain. Searing pain that she wont be able to control. She slides one pin through, knotting the leather at the base, trying to do it quickly.

“How do you suppose she will handle that?” Alex is watching her with a look of curiosity. “Of course, Ive never used one, nor have I ever seen it used on anybody. Should be intense. Lawrence, let her hold it until you are ready for it.”

With the zipper finished, she tries to hand it to Lawrence. He takes it, but attatches it to her collar.
“Now, lay down on your back. Spread your legs wide. I want nothing hid from me.”
She lays herself down, arching her back, stretching out her shoulders. She begins a mantra in her mind,
“One, one, one. Two, two, two. Three, three, three…”, until she reaches ten, and she counts over.
Lawerence is standing over her, still petting her, still trying to get her completely at ease. He opens the bag of pins, and dumps them all over her. She lets out a small gasp, which brings a smile to his face.
He then takes a lighter out of his pocket. Walking over to the table, he lights the candle, and turns out the light.
While he brushes the pins off her stomach, she closes her eyes, and wimpers. Lawrence attatches a pin to her left nipple,, and three around it. Going to the right nipple, he flicks it with his index finger. Placing three pins there as well, he sets the timer on his watch. Thirty Minutes.
Moving quickly, he clamps her belly button., four pins set. He sees her beginning to tremble, so his hand moves to the three pins, and taps them.
She begins to moan quietly, pulling her shoulders back. He taps the other three, and she tries to sink into the bed.
Kneeling inside her spread legs, he sinks a finger deep inside of her. She soaks his hand right away. This was what he was looking for.
Leaning over her, he smears his finger across her parted lips. He then taps again the placed clamps, and her swollen clit, causing her to jump.
Grabbing one side of her labia, pinching it hard, he places three pins, and repeats on the other side.
He then sinks two fingers, spreads them inside. She is writhing under him, an orgasm rocking through her toes, to her open glazed over eyes. He lets her have this, while he begins to flick off the pins around her belly button. This causes her to pull up, crying out. He rapidly flicks the clamps off her heaving breasts. She cries out, wiggling under the rushing blood flow. Tears fall, as theres pain coming from different directions.
He places his hand between Sophias breasts, caressing her, trying to control her rapid heartbeat.
He slowly taps the pins on her labia. Theyre wet, but theyre well placed. He pulls those off slowly. She is squirming, sweating. Seeing her wet face, in the flickering light, Lawrence grabs the zipper off her collar and whispers in her ear,
“You are beautiful Sophia. Stunning, bruised, marked, and beautiful. Dont hold this back.”
He is back between her legs. Rubbing her inner thigh roughly, giving her a quick massage, he places the eight pin zipper close to the labia, going down, about half way, almost to her knee.
She begins to hyperventilate. She tries to bring her leg up, but he forces it back down. Hes tugging on the end of the zipper, causing her to cry out, gasping, writhing.
She clenches her eyes shut. She is not going to beg. She never has, she never will. She can gladly cry, shes capable of controlled orgasms. But, she will not beg to stop.
Its clear to Lawrence , now, that her will is strong as it was to begin with. So he places eight seperate pins on her other thigh.
She again tries to lift her legs, but he forces them down. He places his hands on her knees, kneading the skin outside of them.
Shes trying to get back into her mantra. She keeps losing her place around four. She starts shedding genuine tears. But she does not ask him to stop.
He pulls the zipper, popping it off her leg, and flicks the other pins off. She sits straight up, fisting the sheets,. lets out a scream. Eyes red, puffy, holding herself off the bed, weak, dizzy.
Tears are still falling as he massages her tender legs.
“Pick up the pins, Sophia.”
She tries to kneel, but shes too wobbly. She tries to roll over, but shes still weak. Looking into Lawrences silver eyes, shes searching for concern, but theres none.
Laying back down, throwing an arm over her eyes, legs still spread, she chokes out the words,
“I cant”
“I know. I just wanted you to admit it out loud to yourself. Remember those words, love.”
He kisses her on the cheek, picks up the pins, and the zipper. He puts the zipper on the table, and the pins back in the bag. He flips the light back on, and blows out the candle.
Everyone now can see her bruised body.