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Message-ID: <27623asstr$975348612@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mrledft@aol.com (MR LEDFT)
Subject: {ASSM} Love by the Numbers,Pt. 1 by Ladyvet m/f, bdsm
Date: Mon, 27 Nov 2000 13:10:18 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

WARNING: This story is a work of fiction not intended to be read by 
persons under the age of 21. By continuing on, you attest that you 
are 21 or over and will not convey the story to minors. This work, 
having been posted to the newsgroup, is copyrighted by the author. 
Please do not republish, copy, or post without prior consent of the 
author. Copyright Ladyvet, 2000. 


Love by the Numbers, Part 1


Trickles of sweat ran into my eyes, stinging them, blurring our reflections 
in the mirrored wall. I couldn't wipe them. All I could do was blink and 
wait for my tears to soothe them. I was tightly restrained between the 
pillars, shoulders aching, arms stretched straight out from my sides. I 
studied our blurry reflections, intrigued by the contrast between His 
muscular black nakedness and my slender, half dressed pale blondness. I 
looked into His reflected eyes and nodded. The whip slammed against my back 
and curled around my ribs, tracing a line of fire just below my breasts. I 
bit down on the ball gag and screamed silently in my head. The welt turned 
crimson immediately. I still felt only pain but I knew the pleasure would 
follow once the pain became intense enough. He waited patiently for me to 
nod again, requesting another blow.

He shows me the whips he's selected before we begin a scene and tells me how 
many lashes he'll inflict with each so I can pace myself. It could be over 
quickly or take hours; it's up to me to determine the timing of His blows, 
how long my pleasure/pain will last. The only exception is a thin cane, 
which He sometimes uses on my breasts. He may strike them many times or just 
a few. I dread even a single blow from it. More even than the physical pain, 
I dread hearing Him tell me He's punishing them for being ugly.

He'd already used the horsetail whisk, a crop, a cat and a buggy whip on my 
naked torso, ignoring the sweaty, still-clothed lower body. I'd counted the 
lashes to my back and stomach and knew the next would come from a different, 
heavier whip, one which would really hurt. I felt the first, faint stirring 
of pleasure anticipating the pain.

He worked my tight, sweat soaked jeans and panties down to my feet. I hate 
the humiliation of being restrained with my clothes around my ankles but He 
likes me this way; my useless clothing emphasizes my helplessness and 
confirms His complete dominance over me. I spread my thighs as far as I 
could and moved my hips, begging Him to caress me. He pressed His hardness 
against my ass, reached around me and touched me just above my clit, where 
the top of the barbell stud protruded from my flesh. I moved against His 
finger tip, trying to get Him to rub the slick, hot flesh around my clit.

I couldn't stand to have it stimulated directly. The thick, rough-textured 
stud running the length of my clit inside the hood keeps it raw, 
supersensitive, a little trickle of excitement ready to turn into a torrent 
of pain at even a light touch. It made me think of a rabid dog, obsessed 
with water but unable to approach it. The ring bumped His hand and drowned 
my pleasure in a flood of agony. I couldn't bear another touch! I thrust 
myself back, away from His finger.

He wasn't ready to let me experience the last whip. Andre lifted my breasts 
by their rings and jiggled them until my nipples darkened and contracted. 
Satisfied that my attention was focused on my breasts, He picked up the 
dreaded cane and slashed the air with it like a rapier, dashing my hopes 
that He would spare me. The cane was unbearable before I developed a 
tolerance for it. Now it was merely excruciating. My breasts had always been 
sensitive. Andre's discipline had made them much more so. Having them 
fondled and sucked had given me incredible pleasure on the rare occasions 
when I let a boy do it. I got even more from slapping and squeezing them  ut 
I couldn't ask a boy to abuse me. I had enough trouble getting dates with my 
thin, too-long legs and boyish hips. Who'd date me if the word got around 
that I was some sort of freak as well?

Andre's touch intensified the ever-present ache in the centers of my breasts 
and started my arousal! He flexed the cane and let me anticipate the pain 
before He smacked the upper contour of my left breast. Unlike a whip which 
burned the surface of my skin, the cane instantly thrust its energy deep 
into the tissue to form a pulsing, aching knot. I looked down at my breast, 
surprised as always that the cane hurt so terribly while leaving such a 
slight mark on my skin. The bruises took a while to surface. He smacked it 
twice a bit lower, spreading the ache downward to fill my nipple. I flinched 
and pulled back from the third blow. It hit my nipple ring with a loud 
click.

"You know better than to move around!" He admonished. "Stand properly!" I 
took a deep breath, arched my back and thrust out my chest.

"That's better. Act like you're proud of your pitiful, ugly little saggers." 
That stung as much as the cane. I had never been proud of my tiny breasts 
but they had at least been perky and pointed. Now I hated the way they 
looked. Andre commanded me to hold still while He give me the extra 
discipline my flinching had earned me.

The next four blows landed at the top of the areola. I remained as still as 
I could but the pain was so intense I couldn't help moving around. He waited 
between blows for me to stop so He could place the cane precisely where He 
wanted it. The final blow landed squarely on my nipple. The ring amplified 
the pain, which overflowed my breast and soaked into my chest. Andre paused 
to let me catch my breath before He caned the right side. Tears flooded my 
eyes, ran down my cheeks and splashed my breasts. I felt every drop that 
landed on them.

He put aside the cane and stood behind me with the whip. My upper body 
pulsed with agony but I needed still more pain to get where I needed to be. 
I needed enough to fill my lower body, too. I nodded, asking Him for it, 
praying that it wouldn't take too long to turn to pleasure. The sharp hiss 
of darting leather sliced the silence. This blow fell across my ass. The 
supple leather wound itself around my body and cracked loudly against my 
mons. It was hard enough to have split the skin if I'd been shaven. The gag 
muffled my scream almost completely, allowing only a hissing groan to 
disturb the quiet of the room.

The pain crawled upward to join the throbbing in my breasts and diffused 
through my abdomen, fanning the embers between my legs. I nodded again. The 
whip struck my upper back and wrapped around my chest. A new layer of pain 
flared through my breasts. I watched the crimson welt spring up above my 
nipples. My breasts felt like drops of liquid fire were running down them. 
The rings seemed to thicken as my nipples contracted harder around them. 
Wetness began to ooze between my labia. My clit still hummed like a tuning 
fork from His earlier touch. The pain mixed with an intense tingling. I 
looked at His strong, beautiful body and yearned to feel Him inside me. I 
squeezed my thighs together and surrendered to the overpowering urge to 
rotate my hips. I needed Him so desperately now that I couldn't have Him!

He needed me, too. His hardness proved that. He needed me, but not as much 
He needed to dominate me. He derived great psychological pleasure from 
keeping me aroused until He was ready to grant me release in a storm flying 
leather and terrible pain that turned to pleasure only after it became 
nearly unbearable. The ready warmth of my mouth and hands satisfied Him 
physically.

Our initial passion had cooled after several years of marriage. We were 
still in love and committed to one another but we needed some variety to 
spice up our relationship. Bondage had been my idea. It came to me while I 
lay beside Him reading a very graphic bondage scene in a novel. I enjoyed 
having Andre hold my wrists over my head while we made love. The thought of 
having sex with my hands tied while His were free to do as He  wished was a 
real turn on. I asked Him if He'd ever tried bondage. He put down the brief 
and looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.

"Isn't that sort of thing for sick-os?"

"Not necessarily," I replied. "I'm not one, am I?" He mumbled something and 
went back to work. I put the book away and lay there for a while but I was 
too aroused to sleep. I rubbed His thigh. He ignored me. I'd given Him head 
that morning so I was the only one who was horny. I got up, took a couple of 
silk scarves from the dresser, went into the bathroom and tied them around 
my wrists. He didn't even look up when I returned. I slipped under the 
covers, took Him in my mouth and sucked Him to hardness. That got His 
attention! He loved to finish in my mouth. I stopped when He tensed and 
started to tremble, put my head on the pillow, smiled at Him and said "good 
night." He pushed the blanket down and gripped himself.

"Come on, Catherine, quit teasing me. Finish what you started."

I shook my head.  "Not tonight. I'm not in the mood." I put my hands behind 
my head so He could see the scarves.
        "You were serious about wanting me to tie you up, weren't you?"

I wrapped my fingers around the headboard and said "that's the only way 
you're getting any tonight, Lover!"

He tied the right scarf under the knob near the top of the bedpost, looped 
the other one around the left bedpost and pulled it so hard He dragged me 
sideways, stretching my arms so tightly that they didn't even touch the bed. 
He knotted the right scarf and asked me how I liked it so far. A wave of 
delicious excitement surged through me when I tried to move my arms! I was 
totally helpless! I squirmed beneath Him, pulled Him against me with my legs 
and begged Him to make love to me. He did, so long and hard I was sore for a 
week. I got hot all over again just looking the purple-green bruises on my 
wrists during the next few days! I was sorry when they faded. I loved the 
entire bondage experience; surrendering myself, allowing Andre to have me, 
control me and yes, even hurt me if He wished. He loved it even more.

The nipple rings were also my idea. Andre was a self- proclaimed leg man but 
He never missed an opportunity to ogle a well developed chest. It really got 
on my nerves one day when I caught Him soon after we were married. I 
confronted Him.

"Can you explain why you married me if big tits are such a turn on?" He 
laughed and replied (only half jokingly, I thought) that my legs made the 
rest bearable. I was happy that He liked my legs but "the rest" felt left 
out. It made me jealous when He admired other women's breasts. I wanted to 
do something to make Him pay attention to mine. Augmentation surgery was 
definitely out. Andre said big plastic ones would turn Him on less than my 
little, flat ones did. It hurt my feelings but I understood the problem. How 
could I expect Him to be turned on by my breasts when I hated the way they 
looked, too? We saw a woman with pierced nipples in a video. Andre commented 
on how sexy they looked. It was worth a try.

We both loved the way they looked and the way they made my nipples stand 
out. We jumped into bed as soon as we got home from having it done. He 
accidentally pulled one while we were making love and to our surprise, the 
pain gave me an instant, intense orgasm. It wasn't lost on Him. Andre got 
hooked on body jewelry as quickly as He had on bondage. We had two rings 
placed in each of my inner labia a month later. Andre had a chain chastity 
belt made for me that circled my waist, passed through my labial rings and 
locked to the ones in my nipples. It made masturbation difficult and wearing 
a bra and using tampons impossible. He reveled in the endless discomfort and 
embarrassment it caused me and forbid me
leave the house without it.

I padded the chains where they pressed into the tops of my hip bones with 
strips of silk. Andre forbid me to put anything between the chain and my 
clit and labia.

I resisted when He told me that He wanted me to have my clit hood pierced 
but He was adamant that we commemorate our first anniversary that way. I 
wanted a small ring which would nestle unobtrusively in the folds of my 
labia. He chose a barbell stud with a small diamond pattern like a nail file 
positioned so that it lay along the top of my clit with one ball against the 
head and the other exiting at the top of my labial fold. It hurt constantly 
for the first few weeks, then the pain subsided to wait coiled and ready for 
a touch to awaken it so it could sink its needle sharp fangs into me. Even 
worse, the stud caused an insistent tingling, which goaded me to brave the 
pain and touch myself. The rings and stud kept me terminally horny. The stud 
stimulated me when I walked or sat. Every activity was an erotic adventure!

I was always ready to make love and I always climaxed when we did. 
Unfortunately, Andre wasn't nearly as anxious to have sex. I bought a 
vibrator and used it each afternoon after work. I couldn't always achieve a 
climax by holding it against the chain through my labial rings but that was 
all I could do. My clit was too sensitive to stimulate directly.

Andre came home early one day and caught me. He seized the plastic phallus 
from me and dropped it, still buzzing, on the rug next to the bed. I opened 
my legs and begged Him to unlock me and make love to me. He wasn't in the 
mood. He lay down beside me without touching me and asked "What's the 
matter, Catherine? Couldn't you wait until I got home?"

Very funny! He knew how incredibly aroused I was all the time and that I 
needed a lot more attention than He was giving me. Even worse, He'd gotten 
heavily into having me satisfy Him with my mouth, after which He expected me 
to make do with His hand. It didn't satisfy me as completely as intercourse 
even when I managed to come. It was the sexual equivalent of Chinese food; I 
was horny again an hour later. I told Him so, ending with "This isn't 
working for me. The stud and chastity belt are driving me crazy and so are 
you! I want to get rid of them and go back to the way we were." He listened 
impassively. I nuzzled His neck and wrapped my hand around His cock. "I need 
this and a lot of it!" He took my face between His hands and shook His head. 
The vibrator's faint, mindless buzzing accentuated the silence between us. 
Damn Him! I let Him go and pushed His hands away.

"Fine, Andre! You can damned well get used used to getting yourself off, 
too!" He put my hand back on His cock and held it there.

"No, Catherine, I like things just the way they are. I want you to need me 
all the time and be ready for me whenever I want you." He jerked the chains 
in my nipple rings and kissed me with fierce intensity. "I mean it! You'll 
stay as you are!" His cock twitched in my hand. The smug, self assured SOB! 
Of all the men in the world, I had to love Him! He always got His way and we 
both knew it! I returned His kiss and nodded. He removed the chastity from 
my nipple rings and pulled it free of the ones in my labia. I climbed on top 
of Him with the tight waist chain still in place. He cupped me with His 
thumbs through my rings so He could squeeze my breasts and stretch my 
nipples at the same time and demanded "Agreed?"

"OK, you bastard," I conceded. "I'll put up with it but only for a while." I 
maneuvered Him into me and slid down His cock until He filled me. He used to 
love it when I rode Him but He wasn't in the mood that day. It took Him a 
couple of minutes of stretching and contortions to fasten the restraints 
around my wrists and tie them tightly enough so that all I could do was lie 
on top of Him with my knees beside His thighs. He used the waist chain to 
hold me still while He moved in me. Even then, I was so horny I came before 
He did. He stayed under me for a while after we finished and let our wetness 
run out around Him to soak His stomach and balls. Even soft, He felt 
wonderful inside me and it was great to be satisfied for a change. We lay 
connected in silence until He squirmed out from under me. Andre ignored me 
when I asked Him to free me to use the bathroom. He picked up the 
still-buzzing vibrator and dropped it on the pillow next to my head. He left 
the bathroom door open so I could hear Him urinate. He returned with the 
shower curtain, shoved it under me, pulled my legs straight out toward the 
corners of the bed and restrained my ankles so tightly I couldn't move. I 
turned my face away from the sex toy and spent the night fighting to control 
my bladder. I lost the battle the next morning. He dialed my office and held 
the handset for while I told them I was ill, then He stood next to the bed, 
arms folded, waiting. I could only cry in humiliation when my hot urine 
splashed against my thighs and pooled under me. He left me there for a few 
more hours to make His point; He was totally in charge.

I was sure that He'd get over His obsession with keeping me chained, aroused 
and unsatisfied and move on to other sex play. I was only right about the 
first part. He refused to let me ride Him again. In fact, He stopped making 
love to me for over a month, withholding himself, at first, to punish me for 
my impudence but later because He got completely into oral sex while 
watching me rub myself off. We didn't even really make love when He started 
having intercourse with me again; He just masturbated inside me. He'd 
restrain me spread eagle, jerk off until He was almost ready to finish, then 
he'd fuck me just long enough to come inside me. Once He was satisfied, he'd 
finger me until I was half out of my mind then free one of my wrists, lie 
back and enjoy the show. I refused to do it the first time.

"OK, Catherine, suit yourself," He said agreeably and retied my wrist. "Let 
me know when you change your mind." I lay there feeling sorry for myself for 
a while, then I called Him and surrendered my last shred of self respect. 
Anything was better than lying there until I wet myself again! I actually 
enjoyed masturbating for Him once I relaxed and let my horniness overcome my 
modesty. I brought myself to a wet, noisy, climax, mixing my juices with 
His, after which He retied my wrist and fucked my mouth. He used a cock ring 
during oral sex to prolong His pleasure and make it harder for me to get Him 
off. That was our routine until He decided to explore my need for pain and 
His to inflict it.

We bought our first whip, followed closely by a dozen others which He 
quickly learned to use with skill and finesse. We completely submerged 
ourselves in our respective Dominant and submissive roles. As newlyweds, we 
had enjoyed long sessions of oral sex, then made love until we experienced 
simultaneous orgasms. Now He restrained and whipped me before He entered me 
to have His first, fast climax only to withdraw, leaving me desperate for 
satisfaction. I longed to come while we made love but He wouldn't permit it. 
Andre got more pleasure from leaving me hanging on the edge than He did from 
coming himself. He now left me in restraint after His first orgasm, refusing 
to stimulate me with His mouth or hands, getting high again on my thwarted 
desire. He'd lie with His body against mine and play with my rings until my 
arousal kindled His passion again. When He was finally ready to enjoy 
another climax, He'd free my hands so I could masturbate with one and 
massage Him with the other until He was ready to finish in my mouth. I 
always tried to make myself come at the same moment He did. It was more 
satisfying. It made me feel closer to Him.

My life changed completely on the night of our fourth anniversary. He was so 
attentive and sweet that I knew He had something special planned. He made me 
wait all evening before letting me in on it. He whipped me more cruelly than 
ever, then He freed me, laid me on my back on the cool, comforting silk 
sheet, restrained me with my hands over my head and legs spread wide and 
brought me to the brink with His tongue. It had been a long time since He'd 
done that and I came incredibly hard as soon as entered me. He kept on 
making love to me, slowly, tenderly, withholding His own climax while I 
enjoyed wave after wave of ecstasy. It was the best sex I'd ever had! I lay 
back afterward, still in restraint, sipping champagne from a glass which He 
held to my lips, basking in the afterglow and looking forward to the 
prospect of more lovemaking. The tight cock ring had done its job. He was 
still rock hard.

"Happy, Baby?" He asked, patting me between my legs. He looked at my wetness 
on His hand and laughed. "Get enough?"

"God, yes! That was so good!" I replied and licked His chest.

"That's what I've been needing all this time!" I thought we were back to 
normal.

"That's great. Now its time for our anniversary present." He held two 
ornate, circular gold locks in front of my face.

        "We're going to start the next phase of our lives tonight," He said 
softly and kissed me. "Do you love me enough to submit to me completely?"

        "I already have," I replied, tugging at the tight restraints for 
emphasis. "What else do you want me to do to prove it?"

He pulled my nipple rings and squeezed and kissed my breasts, rekindling my 
passion like lightening striking a tinder-dry tree.

"Accept these as a symbol of your submission."

"In place of the damned chastity belt?" I asked hopefully.

        "You might say that," He replied.  He turned the locks over. They 
had no keyholes. "I'm going to close you permanently, Catherine."

"What are you talking about? That's crazy! How can we make love if you do 
that?" I demanded fearfully. I tugged futilely against the restraints. Andre 
ignored my fear, kissed my nipples, put a finger inside me and rubbed the 
bumpy, swollen place above my urethra which had replaced my clit as my 
primary erogenous zone since the clit hood piercing.

He loosened the ropes on my ankles, retied them with a couple of inches of 
slack and said "I'll let you move around a bit for an anniversary treat." 
Andre lay on top of me and sank into me until He pressed hard against my 
cervix.

"Make the most if this, Catherine," He whispered and began to move inside 
me. "Because you're right. We'll never be able to do this again." I pulled 
my knees up as far as I could, braced my heels against the bed and moved 
with Him, meeting His thrusts, matching His rhythm despite my rising panic. 
He had to be teasing me! In the meantime, I needed this!

"You enjoy keeping me hot so much you don't want me to be able to come? Is 
that what you want?" I had to concentrate on each word to form it. My head 
was spinning from the mixture of fear and lust. He stroked harder. Drops of 
His sweat fell on my face. He was close to coming.

"Hold still now, Catherine," He whispered hoarsely. I raised my hips, tilted 
my pelvis and stopped moving. He liked me to remain completely still when He 
was this close to His orgasm. He enjoyed feeling my vagina clench around 
him, milking him. He could control His climax better if I didn't move. He 
smiled down at me, enjoying my trembling struggle to please Him. His body 
slapped against mine as He rammed himself into me.

"I'll train you to come while I whip you," He said "but if you can't learn 
to, I don't want you to come at all!" He jammed himself tight against me and 
stopped thrusting. I couldn't stand it! I had to move even though He didn't 
want me to. I was so afraid that He wouldn't let me finish! I fought the 
ankle restraints. If I could only free my legs, I could wrap them around Him 
and hold Him inside me. The ropes mocked me. I clamped down on Him as hard 
as I could and pumped furiously. I had to show Him how good making love with 
me could be. Maybe He'd change His mind about closing me if I could make Him 
come. He teetered on the brink of His orgasm and commanded me to hold still 
again. I couldn't even if I'd wanted to.

"You don't really want to close me, do you?" I pleaded desperately between 
gasps. "You can't tell me you aren't enjoying this!" He trembled and started 
to pull back. I tried to hold Him with my knees but He withdrew just as I 
feared He would! I kept moving under Him, searching desperately for His 
hardness but it was hopeless. His mind was made up and He was too strong 
willed to give in. He lay on top of me with His cock just touching my labia 
and squeezed my breasts.

"Don't stop making love to me, Baby," I pleaded. "I need you!"

"I need you, too" He replied and kissed me with a delicious mixture of 
passion and tenderness "and I love you but from now on I only want you to 
serve me with your hands and mouth. Will you do that for me?"

Unsatisfying as my love life was, it was still a lot to give up. A lot, I 
decided but not too much, because I loved Him. I closed my eyes and nodded. 
He made me hold the locks while he removed my labial rings. My unsatisfied 
passion burned like a jagged, white hot meteor in my stomach. I was half out 
of my mind! He took one lock from my hand, pushed it through the piercings 
where the top set of rings had been and locked it. The click sounded as loud 
as a pistol shot. Oh, God! He was actually going through with it!

"Please don't leave me this way, Andre!" I screamed in desperation. "You 
can't be this cruel!" He shook His head.

"At least finish making love to me before you put the other lock in," I 
pleaded. I raised my knees and rotated my pelvis. He ignored me and took the 
other lock from my hand.

"Then let me use my hand! You like to watch me do that!"

"No," He said with finality. "The next time you come, if there is a next 
time, it will be by my whip!" He forced the second lock into my burning, 
slippery flesh and closed it. The locks pinched me so tightly I wondered if 
I'd be able to urinate. I looked at His cock through my tears, wanting Him 
terribly despite the pain of the locks and the impossibility of making love 
to Him or, perhaps, because of them.

"Damn, they look great!" He exclaimed. I raised my head and tried to sit up 
to see them but I couldn't. I felt them, though! They felt incredibly heavy 
and thick! He freed my right hand, pressed my fingers tips against them, 
then He put my hand on His cock and commanded me to jerk Him off while He 
admired His handiwork. He ordered me to masturbate to orgasm after He 
splashed His come against my closed passage. I spread His slick come on my 
aching, swollen labia and around my clit and rubbed myself but I couldn't
achieve an orgasm despite my need.

"One other thing, Catherine," He said as I trembled on the brink. "Never 
touch yourself between your legs without permission."

Ladyvet

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