Archive-name: Bondage/atconf.txt
Archive-author: Akai
Archive-title: 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.  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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