A Kink In Time Pt. 02

At the heart of pain,

beneath the switch’s bite, lies

the sweetest pleasure.

Shenkru ca 1650

Second Night

I woke to my chain being gently pulled.

“Hurtle, my sub, someone’s knocking at the door.”

I stood and went to the door even though I was wearing nothing but my collar and my cock cage. Opening it, I encountered a young woman dressed in porter’s livery and carrying a tray with tea things and croissants piled upon it. On seeing me, her eyes widened ever so slightly and the ghost of a smile did play around her lips, but she said nothing and simply handed me the tray. What must she see in the course of many journeys, I thought?

We ate our croissants and, as we would be ending up that night in Budapest at the famous Hilton Hotel on the Castle Hill, our talk turned to the language of Hungary itself. My Mistress subscribed to the theory that it was a member of the Uralic family of languages with origins in Siberia. I argued for it belonging to the Turkic language group. I had no clear view on this, but knew My Mistress relished such debates and I happily engaged in the polemic.

When we were done, and I had deposited the tray outside our door, I helped My Mistress to dress. She chose red silk panties, which I slid up her beautiful legs and carefully adjusted around her groin. I clasped her bra and fitted her breasts into each cup. Her blouse was lovingly buttoned and her trousers, of the finest blue silk, I held for her to step into. When her hair was brushed and her minimal makeup applied, I was allowed to dress too. I squeezed into my little leather boy shorts and my grey suit and we were ready for the day.

We made our way to the dining car and spent leisurely hours nibbling a selection of offerings ranging from simple bread rolls with the finest cheeses, to sturgeon cooked

with a delicacy of flavour and garnishes I had never encountered before.

The hills and forests and rivers of southern Germany passed by outside our window like a living postcard from a dream. Austria, when we slipped across the border, with the Alps in the distance, might have been the lid of a chocolate box enticing us to open it and taste the delights therein. I felt, again, the blessing of being in My Mistress’ orbit – able to be close to her, serve her, learn from her, expand my experience of life and the world under her care.

“Have you been to Hungary before, Hurtle?”

“No My Mistress.”

“I think you’ll like it. And I think you’ll like our guest in the hotel this evening.”

She said no more about this, and I was left to wonder who it might be.

We arrived at the old Keleti Train Station in the early evening. Budapest was in the lull between the close of business for the day and the awakening of the lively nightlife it was so famous for. I gathered our luggage and followed My Mistress out under the portico and into a waiting taxi. It felt good to be off the moving train and on solid ground again.

“The Hilton on Castle Hill,” said My Mistress.

I gazed at the passing parade of streets, and wondered again who our guest was going to be.

The hotel took my breath away. Was it a hotel, or a castle? Accommodation for travellers, or a monkish retreat? Somehow, it was a blend of the historic and the modern. The building managed to bridge time and cast itself perfectly between two worlds.

Our suite was sumptuous. An elegant living room, a restrained bedroom with the largest of beds, and a bathroom with an oval, freestanding bath that commanded a view of the city. I was in awe of its understated beauty.

On a table in the centre of the room was a bottle of Dom Perignon and several plates of food. My Mistress, a regular here, did not even have to order. I poured us both some of the chilled wine and we sat for a time eating a variety of delights: the freshest of bread rolls, caviar, bacon wrapped oysters, roasted fingerling potatoes, hummus and marinated olives. The city was spread out before us. We were silent, lost in our own thoughts. I loved this about My Mistress – there was a time for conversation, and a time for contemplation.

“I think we are going to enjoy our stay here very much, my sub.” My Mistress had the most enigmatic of smiles as she said this, and I wondered again about the evening to come.

“Now we are here I want you to undress.” As she said this My Mistress settled herself in a chair to watch. I took my time unbuttoning my shirt and slipped it off, knowing she wanted slowness here. My trousers followed, and then, turning, I shimmied out of my boy shorts. I bent to pick them up and folded them before turning back to face My Mistress. Her face was alive with the sparkling, open, wicked smile I loved so much. My cock stirred.

“Get my bag of toys, Hurtle.”

As I walked past her she slapped my trapped cock with her hand, making me yelp.

“We’ll have some fun with this tonight.”

“Yes My Mistress.”

When I came back I placed the bag beside her chair and then knelt as I had been taught.

She took the bag onto her lap and looked inside. She pulled out a large glass butt plug. I blinked. It was much larger than any I had taken inside me before. I waited.

“Crawl to the couch over there and lean against it with your hands on the seat.”

As I did this I heard her moving things inside the bag. When I was in position My Mistress came up behind me and knelt on the floor. She rubbed my bottom, and then slapped me several times. Hard. Then she rubbed my rose bud, gradually working her fingers (first one, then two, then three) inside. There was lots of rose scented lube.

“Now my sub, are you ready?”

“Yes My Mistress.”

I arched my back and pushed my ass out. My Mistress ran the butt plug around my hole and then began to gently work it into me.

“Help me, my sub. Relax and breathe. Push against it. You can take it. I know.”

Her gentle encouragement helped me and even when, at its widest point, I thought I was going to tear, we worked together until the whole of it was inside me.

“Well done my boy.”

She was stroking me and patting me and pushing against the plug, too, so that it moved inside me. I felt the weight of it pushing against my inner flesh, expanding me, sitting there like it was a large, fat bulb radiating painful pleasure.

There was a knock at the door.

“Answer it, my pet.”

I went without a word towards the door. Every step, with that thing speared inside me,

was a conversation between deep thrill and sharp agony.

Standing there, when I pulled the door open was a young woman with long black hair. She was wearing an ornate mask over her eyes and a short, black leather dress. Long black leather boots came all the way up her legs to her upper thighs. She looked at me, taking in my nudity at a glance, and said: “Is My Mistress here?”

This was unexpected. I knew My Mistress had many subs, in many places. She was widely travelled after all, and was a collector of sorts. But I had had no inkling that we would be meeting any of them on our journey. I felt momentarily jealous (I wanted My Mistress to myself), but recovered quickly and stood aside to let this beauty into the room.

She took two steps and then knelt, her eyes lowered.

“My Mistress,” she said. “Your sub Sabina as requested.”

I closed the door and watched as My Mistress came across the room and stood before her. She touched her lightly on the head, a gesture of ownership, and Sabina stood.

“I’m so very glad to see you my sub. This is Hurtle. He is still new to me and as well as showing him some of Europe, I want to introduce him to some very special delights.”

“I am delighted to see you again My Mistress. I have missed you so. It would be my honour to help you this evening in any way I can.”

“Then step out of your dress for me, my dear, and let’s see that wonderful body of yours. Hurtle, come and kneel beside me.”

I did as I was asked and watched in a kind of wonder as Sabina unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She was naked underneath. Her skin was alabaster white except for the pinkish brown of her nipples and areola. And a thin black line of hair above her sex, the lips of which were the palest pink. The contrast between the black of her hair and the black of her boots was breathtaking.

“Stand up Hurtle.”

I did. My Mistress walked over to Sabina and handed her a key.

“You may unlock him, my pet.”

Sabina came and stood in front of me and smiled right into the back of my eyes. Then she knelt and undid the padlock on my chastity, removing it and working the sheath gently off my cock. Her hands were as soft as silk and I shuddered with pleasure. No-one had touched my cock for a month now. She carefully pushed and squashed my cock under the ring and, when it was free, worked first one and then the second ball out from its confinement. Her left hand then gently cupped my balls and kneaded them, while her right hand massaged my shaft. I quickly grew hard.

“You may clean him Sabina.”

This was a signal for Sabina to take my cock into her mouth. I gasped at the shock of her tongue on my flesh.

“You are not allowed to cum Hurtle.” I squirmed, and nodded my head.

Then I was aware of My Mistress standing right beside me. She leaned in close and murmured into my ear.

“This will help you to concentrate.”

She reached around and put a clamp on my left nipple. The sharp pain took my breath away. There was a second clamp attached by a chain which she placed on my right nipple. I gritted my teeth, but stood as still as I could. Then My Mistress hung a small but heavy metal ball from the chain and gave it a tug.

“There! All in place. Don’t cum Hurtle.” I could feel the smile on My Mistress’ face.

Sabina continued to ‘clean’ my cock. An intense mixture of pleasure and pain rolled through me. My body felt like it was on fire. But there was more to come.

“Rest Sabina.” The girl sat back on her haunches and My Mistress came and, one by one, attached four pegs to the skin of my scrotum. Tears of pain welled in my eyes.

“Continue.”

That sweet mouth returned to its work. My breath was coming faster now and Sabina, clearly skilled at this, would sense when I was rising to a peak and would pause for a moment to let it pass.