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Summoned

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Caption

She is at work. The summons comes on her smartphone at 3:43 p.m.

She knows instantly what kind of message has just reached her and her stomach drops. Her pulse starts to race. She feels her face blushing. The message seizes control of her mind.

Form the moment she is aware of it she perceives the world around her only through a veil. She functions. But job requirements or day to day issues, her feelings about things, her doubts about herself, her insecurity are swept aside by the magnitude of what she knows is in store for her even without knowing precisely what that will be. Sounds around her are muffled and the only thing that matters is the message on her phone.

She looks around. Her colleagues are concentrating on their screens. The odd key stroke can be heard. She wants to sneak a look at the message, but the office rule is “No personal communication”, so she quietly takes her phone and goes to the wash room.

She enters one of the cubicles and slipping down her tights and panties squats down and releasing her tension lets the waters flow while she looks at the message. It reads:

6 p.m.

Position 4

Code 3624

There is no mention of a sender and no personal note of any kind. There is no need for one since she knows exactly from whom the message comes. And while to the uninitiated its brief content would read like cryptic nonsense, to her it is quite plain and self-explanatory.

It means that come 6 p.m. she will find herself in a room in M’s luxurious apartment, naked, bent over the back of a plush settee facing a large fire place over which hangs an ornate mirror which, if she looks up, will give her an overview of the room and herself in it. Thick carpet covers the floor and heavy curtains muffle any possible sound and keep out any remaining light. Some carefully arranged table lamps fill the room with soft light. Behind her a large two paneled door opens out to a parquet floored passageway leading to the other rooms of the apartment.

Looking up into the mirror she will be able to see herself, her legs spread widely and with a thin, vicious looking carbon fiber cane protruding from her bottom, its handle buried inside her rosette. Her nipples will be adorned with a pair of silver clamps. That is what Position 4 means, and she knows that only too well.

Sitting in the taxi on the way to the familiar address, she realizes again how remote form the world around her she is and how excited, even aroused she has become. At 5.40 she steps out of the taxi and walks up to the apartment block. Pressing the given code she lets herself in, takes the lift to the right floor and pressing the code once more at the door she opens it and quietly steps inside. Wanting to make her presence as unobtrusive as possible, she takes off her shoes and quietly tiptoes down the passageway passing the door to the room where she will soon find herself. From the corner of her eye she notices the arrangement as she expects it. She goes to a small bed room at the end of the passage, steps inside and begins to undress.

After hanging her clothes neatly in the small wardrobe she enters the attached bathroom. There she steps into the large glass walled shower and takes a thorough shower making very sure that her every orifice is izmit escort squeaky clean. Finishing off with a cold rinse which makes her shudder but tingle all the more, once the temperature shock wears off, she carefully dries herself.

With that part of the procedure completed, she opens the narrow cupboard by the side of the shower. Inside the door hangs a wide array of crops, canes, whips and what have you and, last but not least, the latest addition to the collection, a quarter inch thick carbon fiber cane with a black, bullet shaped handle. This she takes out along with a bottle of lubricant, the content of which she liberally applies to the cane handle. Bending over a little and pulling the cheeks of her bottom apart with one hand while holding the cane with the other she guides the tip to her rosette. She jolts a little as she fells its cold contact on her warm intimate flesh. Gently twirling it back and forth for some time in the outer fields of her butt hole she is able to relax her otherwise eager sphincter sufficiently and begins to push the handle in little by little. If she fells any resistance or discomfort or a tendency to clam up she stops, withdraws a fraction, twirls the rod gently some more and gives herself time until she can proceed further. In small stages her goal is reached. The cane handle is fully embedded. She feels well filled and the handle is by now warm. On the other hand this exercise has not left her cold and she is sorely tempted to bring herself off. Excited as she is, it would not take long. But she knows better. Her release will come later and not at her calling.

Standing a little wobbly on her feet not wanting the cane to slip form her behind she reaches into a drawer and takes out a pair of silver nipple clamps. She has to overcome her own fear of the impeding pain but taking a deep breath she fulfills what is required of her. Tears rush to her eyes as the clamp bites into her nipple. Breathing deeply she waits until she becomes accustomed to the pain. Then she applies the second clamp. Again the pain shakes her and she gives herself time to accept it.

She takes a large, warmed towel from the rack and stepping carefully so that the clamps on her tits do not shake excessively and with her bum clasped tightly so that the cane handle does not slip out – she has been generous with the lube – and feeling quite ridiculous she softly walks into the parlor. For a moment she is frightened when she sees something move in the mirror over the fire place but she calms down and smiles to herself when she realizes she is looking at herself.

After spreading the towel over the back of the settee she leans against it and bends over. Looking up into the mirror she sees what she knew she would see the first moment she read the message. She she is calm and content and also excited. Closing her eyes she renders herself to the situation and begins to meditate on what was to come. Time grinds to a halt.

Her serenity is interrupted by the sound of the clock on the mantel piece striking and on the sixth stoke she hears the apartment door opening. She hears the sharp click of a pair of high heels slowly proceeding along the passage. They stop briefly and she knows the person is standing in the doorway looking at her exposed and madeinizmit.com expectant intimacy. She cannot help herself and blushes. Then the steps move on. She would have liked to look up but she knows better. Demurely she keeps her head down. From afar she hears a door close and then she is back in the dark void of her own mind. Peace prevails.

She is awoken by feeling something moving in her bowels. Someone is gently stirring the handle of the cane. She opens her eyes and in the mirror sees M. standing behind her. M.’s ample figure is clad in a full length red evening gown. Strapless would not suffice for its description as it presents her full breasts which are held up by a bustier and rest in in their coves with nipples peeping over the edge. M.’s hand is holding the cane and with an air of challenge looks provokingly into her eyes through the mirror as she softly turns and twists the handle in her bottom and begins to add minute little fucking movements. She is seized by a violent urge bury her face between those breasts and suck eagerly on those nipples. But she knows that will be for later or for another time if she is lucky and M. is that way inclined. At this point her desires are of no relevance. In fact she enjoys being free of them. She could stay like this for ever. Wanting to just be, she has given up any desires of her own.

In the mirror she watches as M. raises her other hand above the back rest of the sofa and shows her a daunting object which makes it clear to her that today’s encounter will be a heavy one and she will need all her proficiency to be able to cope with it. M. is holding a red ball gag. She comes around to the front of the sofa. Knowing what is to come she demurely raises her head and accepts the dry bulb as it fills her mouth. M. fastens the buckle at the back of her head and places another towel under her face. A further sign that drool and tears will flow and her endurance will be tested.

With the thick carped muffling the sound of her steps and making it seem as if she is floating in a dream, angle like M. returns to her position behind the settee. The cane handle is slowly withdrawn from her anus. She feels her own heat as it slides out of her. She is tense and tries to relax because any time all hell can break loose. Will the strikes come in a long, slow, seemingly endless procession with large intervals tween them never letting her know whether the ordeal is over or whether there is more to come, or will there be without warning or warming up a massive and sudden onslaught of pain? She tries to breathe deeply and calmly and concentrates on the nothingness in her and around her. As she steadies her nerves calm and darkness fill her mind once more.

That serenity is torn asunder and she is sorely stressed as the first vicious, biting stroke lands. She squeals more from of surprise than from pain. But that sets in instantly and only with utmost concentration and an immense will not to be taken over by the insetting pain that is shooting through her body and her brain can she stop herself from straightening up and clasping her burning behind. There is a brief pause. But before she can fully collect and calm herself the second blow lands no less sharply, no less cruelly. But at least this time she is no longer taken completely unawares and as the cane continues to strike with the regularity of a clock-work, not giving her any respite or time to recover she begins to accept the torment and lets the pain pass through her.

The strikes come in a steady, unrelenting rhythm and M. knows exactly where to hit. Starting on the most painful spot on her cheeks the strikes move down to the back of her thighs, upward again over her core spot to the top of her cheeks and then back down again. While her mind is calm her body is in rage. Her loud wailing though muffled by the gag can be clearly heard. Tears flow freely and mix with the drool from her mouth. By the time the cane strokes reach the place of their initial impact she can hardly discern individual strikes any more. Her bottom is one searing throbbing mass of pain.

She does not know when she started crying. She cannot stop herself now and she knows that M. enjoys the sound and the sight that goes with it. Her cries are muffled by the ball gag and the towel and her face is smothered with her tears and her drooling saliva. But she is able to give herself completely to the moment. She can desist from wriggling or kicking her legs. She accepts the pain in her mind and does not feel threatened by it. Her trust in M. is such that she knows that while she might be pushed to frontiers she will never be treated to more than she can take. But her body does not know that. Involuntarily her legs begin to quiver.

As suddenly as they began the strikes stop. The momentum hurls her on and her cries and sobs continue to fill the air. Slowly, very slowly she begins to bring mind and body together again. A soft, warm blanket is placed over her.

Slowly her tears and her wailing subside. Then she feels something warm sliding betwee the by this time very wet folds of her labia. It spreads her juices and then she feels a thumb pressing against her anus demanding entry. Having learnt to relax and having gained some amount of self-control she complies. Then first one then two fingers enter her by now streaming lust cave and start to press on her particularly sensitive area while another thumb starts to rhythmically press on and circle her clit. It does not take long for her to start groaning again as she feels her insides streaming from her. Waves upon waves of orgasmic quakes sweep through her and shake her body time and time again.

Then everything stops. Her orifices are left gaping and empty. She hears the click of M.’s high-heels receding down the passage way. A door opens and closes and she is alone again.

After a while she picks herself up. With a good deal of discomfort which, as it subsides, also makes her tummy tingle once more, she removes the clamps on her nipples, walks to the small bed romm, takes a shower, attends to her ravished behind, dresses and leaves the apartment. She would have liked to knock on the door to M.’s bedroom, but had M. wanted more from her today, that door would have been open.

Knowing there will be another time she takes a taxi to her place where she treats herself to a cup of hot, thick, sweet chocolate, wraps herself in a blanket, cuddles up in a corner of a sofa and staring out of the window with empty eyes reviews in her mind what she has just let herself go through. It will take her some time to come to terms with herself and her role in all that has happened.

But she also knows that she is already looking forward to be summoned once again.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32