Bondage/atconf
                                        Akai
                                  At the Conference
                   Disclaimer: This story includes bondage, dominance, pain, you
                    got it.  Act accordingly.  On the other hand, its not wildly
                  hard core, lots of head-space stuff, so... Act accordingly.  it
                    is copyrighted to Akai, but feel free to distribute, so long
                              as you leave the disclaimer in in full.
                                                 At The Conference...
            She looked around the hotel room and thought .  Certainly, as starving grad
               students, neither he or she could afford a room at a hotel like this.
              Organizing the volunteers had been a bitch, but she was looking forward
                  to the conference.  She spotted the balcony overlooking the city
               streets and blushed.  She was reasonably sure her Master wouldn't miss
                                 that opportunity when he got here!
                 Pulling off her traveling clothes, she couldn't quite face putting
                 on her professional demeanor and finding the chairwoman quite yet.
                                        she thought.  The bed
                 was comfy (not surprising, given the cost of these hotel rooms!),
                 and she began to play with herself distractedly, running her hand
                through her bush, teasing her clit, while she thought of her Master,
                                and wondered what he might cook up.
               "Well, I see you're appropriately dressed, slave, but I don't remember
                              given you permission to masturbate..." 
                    "I'm sorry, Master, but I was thinking of you," she flirted,
                             hoping  to get away with her infraction.  
              "You're being pushy, again.  For a slave, you seem awfully rebellious."
                He stopped, hearing a knock on the door.  After looking through the
                peephole, he got an evil grin on his face, backed off, and announced
                                        "be right there..."
                                      "Open the door, slave."
               She stared at him in dismay.  Sure, fantasies were one thing, but real
                life?  "Now," he said, smacking her ass hard enough to leave a mark.
                 "Yes, Master."  On the other side of the door stood an astounded 
              bellboy.  He took in her full breasts, tiny waist, and slightly rounded
                   stomach with the faint stretch marks that were the emblem of 
                                           motherhood.  
               "W..would you like some ice, Mam?" the bellboy stammered, offering her
                                        a full ice bucket.  
                                     "Do we want ice, Master?"
                         "Yes, slave, and don't forget to tip the fellow."
                 She took the bucket from the frozen bellboys hand, and fetched the
               empty bucket from the dresser.  Handing the empty bucket to the still
               staring bellboy, she felt her inner demons take over, said  "Buy low,
                                sell high,"  and closed the door.  
                "That wasn't nice, slave.  Funny, but not nice.  Now bring the ice,
                  fetch the toy bag from my pack, and come out onto the balcony."
                Turning to follow her Master's orders, she tried to control her fear
               and excitement.  He knew that while she liked bondage and had become a
                real enthusiast for certain kinds of pain, she was still intimidated
                                          by the thought of
                 anyone else seeing her.

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  To truly dominate her, he had to push her
                                  limits, if only a little bit.  
                  Her Master stood on the balcony, pulling his long red hair back
                  into a ponytail.  She shuddered with anticipation.  Pulling his
                 hair back was a sure fire sign of a fairly serious scene.  At the
                   door to the balcony, he blindfolded her and cuffed her wrists
                                            behind her.
               "There are a million people down on that street," he whispered in her
                ear.  She strained to see through the blindfold, but the silk hugged
                her face too closely.  He bent her forward over the waist-high solid
                 railing.  Her breasts hung down into the warm breeze.  She felt as
                though they were huge, that someone from the street would reach out
               and touch them any moment, although they were, in fact, a good fifteen
                                            stories up.
                  "Ooo!" she squealed, as she felt ice against her thighs, moving
                  towards her clit.  The cold felt good in the heat, but drove her
                     wild when rubbed against her clit and into her snatch. She
                    jerked, and her breasts swayed, reminding her of her exposed
                                             position .
                    Her Master reached around and ran the ice over her nipples,
                            leaving them erect and aching to be touched.
                   "They like seeing your nipples erect," he said, returning the
                   ice to her clit.  "Lets make them sway a bit more."  She felt
                    his hard cock draw across her snatch a couple of times, then
                    insistently pushing against her asshole.  The water from the
                      ice had diluted her juices, so he was barely lubed.  She
                    concentrated hard on relaxing her asshole and accommodating
                     him, but the ice he was still using on her snatch and clit
                    effectively prevented that.  She gasped in pain and pleasure
                                   as he thrust his way into her.
                    "I'd clamp your nipples, but I want the folks on the street
                  to think you're a slut, not a wierdo."  She had forgotten about
                    them again, and she gasped again as her feelings of exposure
                     made her even more tense.  Her Master began to thrust in 
                      earnest, rubbing hard on her clit, and pushing her belly
                      painfully against the balcony railing.  She lost herself
                    into the experience completely, drowning in the conflicting
                       sensations.  The spasms of his orgasm pushed her over
                    the edge, and she came in waves, collapsing, held up only by
                                    his hands around her waist.
                     In silence, her Master drew her back from the balcony into
                      the room.  He uncuffed her hands, turned her about, drew
                         off the blindfold, and smiled down into her eyes.
                                     "Hello, my love," he said.
                                                 --
                                                  
                                                   
                                                  
                                                  
 

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