Chapter 11 - Craving for Ownership
I nuzzled against Master's neck as we relaxed outside. Both of us sat within a five-person hot tub built into one of the smoothed boulders that comprised the rear porch. I sat in his embrace, with my round buttocks and bared thighs across his lap. It left my shoulders exposed to the evening air -- one of the only parts of my body not covered by my polymer second-skin. I could feel the hairs on his arm as he wrapped them in a protective embrace around me, leaving me safer than I had ever felt while I was still free.
There was only one... no, two things missing, as I sat idling with my fingers touching my neck chain. The long, steel chain locked to my collar was still anchored to the end of a rail on the porch floor. It ensured that while I could visit (and clean) the porch even when Master was away, I could never leave its confines unless Master unlocked my collar chain.
"Mmmh?" He answered with his eyes closed while his hands absentmindedly stroked and kneaded my breasts.
"C-could you..." I felt my face redden, "lock my arms behind me?"
Master opened his eyes and looked upon me in adoration. He then repositioned me on his lap until he could grab each of my wrists and pull them up my back. My forearms crossed as he fed the short chains dangling from each wrist cuff through the thick padlock hanging off my rear collar ring. With a loud 'click', my arms were secured behind my back in a double hammerlock again. My palms' and fingers' backwards facing ensured that I could not unlock myself even if I had the key in my hand.
Next -- and without me even asking -- Master took the leash which had been left clipped to my front collar ring since this morning. The three separate strands from its other end were still attached to my nipple clips and the ring hanging off my clitoris. Master unlinked the carabiner clip from my collar and snapped it to a ring submerged inside the hot tub. Now I couldn't climb out even if I wanted to thanks to the leash's 6ft-length.
"Better?" He asked.
I nodded and nuzzled against his chest. I was helpless and under his total control again. Oddly enough, this made me feel far less anxious as I sat on his lap in this distant land.
Master once explained to me that we were in Brazil. His three-story mansion, with its floors stacked uneven, was built in a secluded valley community only a few hours from the coast. From his third floor windows I could just barely make out another home in the distance, its windows and walls concealed by the layers of foliage between us in the tropical forest.
I had no doubts that Master could keep me here, in secret, forever, if he desired it. I haven't seen or met a single individual aside from him in the past six months since my arrival. Master did lock me inside the cage beneath his bed on several occasions while he was at home, which might have meant visitors. I couldn't tell as I was always left blind, deaf, gagged, and hogtied for hours each time, with my system left on 'Simmer' -- and once even 'Broil' -- to keep my thoughts fully occupied with my desperate need to cum.
I felt a tingle of electricity from my crotch as my chastity shield unlocked. Master's fingers brushed down my smooth pelvis before pulling on the edges of my shield. I moaned as the 7-plus-inch phallus slowly withdrew from my depth. My pussy felt oddly empty as he lifted the dildo vibrator from the water and left it on the hot tub's edge.
"Time to give you a thorough cleaning," Master grinned as I felt two of his fingers enter me. My gasps came interspersed between moans as he began to stir me up inside. His fingers wiggled playfully as he twirled them inside my pussy. I was soon breathing ragged as my arousal began to peak from his teasing digits.
"M-master, please..." I begged even though I knew this would never be enough. I might be able to cum from a finger fucking, but Master would have to focus on playing with my g-spot. So far he had deliberately kept clear except for an occasional teasing brush. His intentions were clearly to return me to the edge but leave me just shy of an actual climax.
"Remember, this is what your body wants." His voice was husky as his breath tickled the back of my ears. I tried to deny it as I felt tears of frustration leak from my eyes. But I knew that Master was also right.
Yes, I hated this feeling of being kept on the edge, so close to the orgasm I need yet unable to reach. Yet... for reasons that I don't completely understand, my body also craved this warm feeling of arousal, of heated frustration and the denial of my needs. Even my dreams have longed for Master to take me for his pleasure, while denying my own, as he leaves me hanging.
By the time my body began to tremble, Master decided that I had enough. His fingers left my pussy as his smiling eyes met my tear-stained gaze. My begging grew incoherent as I cried into his chest.
"Shhhh," Master quieted me down as his one hand soothingly stroked my hair while the other enjoyed the soft, fleshy mound of my left breast. "Good girls don't cum." He reminded me again before enjoying my whimpers as my body slowly ebbed back from the edge.
When will Master let me cum again? I couldn't help but wonder as I wept in his arms, my pussy aching to feel stuffed again.
"Violet," Master asked in curiosity after my sobs gradually faded. "When did you first start having fantasies of having your orgasms controlled?"
"T-the... the first time I read a chastity fetish story years ago," I muttered. "I've fantasized about it ever since, and even bought a chastity belt of my own. But... it's just not the same to deny myself."
"No," Master spoke as he understood. "Your urge to be controlled isn't about denial; or at least, it's not just about denial. It's about the ownership of your sex and responsibility over your sexual needs." His lips then curled into a thoughtful smirk. "I believe you mentioned once that you had a conservative upbringing?"
"Yes," I answered in my wispy voice. "My parents demanded that I focus on my studies. They taught me from early childhood that a good degree was the gateway to all my wishes... a good life, a good career, a good husband. Dating was a waste of precious time in their eyes. They kept telling me that only a cheap, low-class woman would be driven by youthful lust."
Master smiled with sympathy as he heard my story.
"It's no wonder then. You were a girl with a normal girl's urges, yet your parents tried to shame you into denying them throughout your formative youth. Well, not that I'm complaining," his grin widened. "I don't mind being the 'low-class man' who keeps forcing myself upon you -- your 'rapist', so to speak."
I felt my face grow scarlet with embarrassment as his arms hugged tighter around me.
"Master... I'm not blaming..."
"It's alright, Violet," I felt him press a finger to my lips as he looked upon me with a caring, loving gaze. "I want you to."
As I looked back with perplexed eyes, Master went on to explain what he meant:
"I want you to relieve yourself of your burdens. It's fine for you to think of all your sexual cravings and needs as desires that I forcibly imprinted upon your body -- because I've certainly done my utmost. It's fine for you to struggle and resist and not consent to my advances, since I'll just take what I need from you regardless. I want you to feel like you never had a choice in any of these matters, because it's true. And..."
His grin stretched from ear to ear as he added: "I think denying your body the pleasure it craves is the perfect way to reinforce all of this -- you're not in control, so you can't be the one to blame. No, you're a good, sweet, perfectly innocent girl. You're just also a damsel who is helpless to resist the sex fiend who imprisoned you, who keeps your body in a constant state of lustful need to fill his devilish desires.
"Am I wrong?" The 'sex fiend' in question finished with a disarming smile.
I shook my head as I leaned into his chest. My stomach fluttered as I felt a genuine sense of adoration billow inside me.
'Rapist', 'fiend', they were just words, convenient interpretations for us to use. In the end, what mattered was that Master truly cared for me... even if he also wanted to see me suffer for the pleasure it aroused in him.
"Master is kind, but Master is also cruel to me."
"Master," he referred to himself with a chuckle, "will make sure Violet stays a good girl and mold her into the perfect slave."
I felt his lips press down upon mine as his tongue forced its way in. My tongue soon bent to his will as he tasted and ravished my lips until I was breathless. The heat in my cheeks refused to leave as he enjoyed thoroughly tasting me. I didn't even realize how faint my head began to feel when he finally announced:
"Time to leave the tub, Violet. Otherwise you really will simmer and cook."
Of course, I couldn't leave on my own. Master had to reach into the water and unclip my leash from the heavy-duty ring. He then hooked his fingers through the carabiner clip and wound my leash around his knuckle. Only afterwards did he pick me up between his arms and lifted me out of the water, as he stepped back onto the arrangement of flat boulders that formed his rear porch.