Tersely Pertinent

Chapter 2

The man in the mirror smiled and Jilly felt the grasping pressure on her wrists and ankles disappear.   Suddenly she could move again!    Standing straight up, she once looked into the mirror wall and saw the Well-Dressed man standing there, only his arms were crossed in front of him.    Jilly almost smirked at Him when he cocked his head to one side and spoke a word she couldn’t hear.

A slight panic came over her.   “What?   I don’t understand,” Jilly told the reflection. The Man got a slightly exasperated look on his face and slowly mouthed the word again:

“Strip.”

Jilly giggle sighed and followed his command.   Stepping back from the table, she began to remove her clothes.    Undoing the zipper on her dress allowed it to plunge into a pile around her feet.  Jilly’s hands moved to undo the clasp on the front of her bra and arching her back allowed it to fall on the floor.   She then slid her hands to her hips and pushed her panties down her legs.  As Jilly raised each foot to step out of them, she slipped each shoe off and set them quietly in the pile of clothes.

Finishing His command, Jilly stood straight up, with her hands on her hips saying, “What now, Sir?” As the words barely escaped her lips, Jilly found herself thrown toward the padded table once again.    A grip from a ghostly hand seemed to have her by the back of the neck propelled her to the edge of the table.   Her head was turned left and then right, so she could see coiled hanks of rope snaking towards her from the rack on opposite racks.

Each of the black braided cotton ropes unraveled itself from the hanks and wound themselves around each wrist.   After she was tied, the rope pulled itself taunt and forced Jilly to lay her chest flat on the table.   At the same time, she could feel more rope encircling each ankle and her legs being forced apart.   The ropes seemed to tie themselves off so she was bound to the edge of the padded table with her tits pressed to the tabletop and her ass sticking out.

Jilly pulled at the ropes as much as she could, but they didn’t budge.   Her arms reached out to each end of the table.  The pressure kept her flat and the only thing she could move was her head.   She managed to turn it so she could once again look into the mirror.   When she did, all she could see was herself.   The Man had vanished.

“Where are you?” she asked.   Jilly moved her head around as much as she could, but didn’t see His reflection anywhere in the mirrored room.    She began to wonder if this was really happening, when she felt a pair of hands press against her shoulder blades.   It wasn’t a hard press but warm, gentle press forcing her down into the padded tabletop.

Slowly the hands up and down her back.   Moving down a bit and then back up to her shoulders.   Each time, the hands moved a bit further down her back before they slid up to her shoulders again.  Jilly could feel the fingers all together at first, then slowly move apart with each stroke.

She again looked into the mirror and still didn’t see his reflection.   But the strokes continued.    With a happy sigh, Jilly closed her eyes and lay her head down to continue to enjoy the feeling.  Her breathing in rhythm with the slow massage.

Pain suddenly erupted from her right ass cheek.   Jilly’s head was dragged back by the hair and was forced to look into the mirror again.  The word “Count” appeared all at once.

“One!” Jilly screamed as another smack belted her left ass cheek!  

She breathed deeply, to process the pain.   It had been so long since Jilly had anyone touch her, much less given her a spanking.    His blows hurt but she welcomed each one.   The touch was both warm and chilling each time.   It was though He needed it as much as she did.   

“Two!  Please Sir, may I have another?!”  

Jilly braced herself, not knowing if He would be appreciative of her efforts.   She wanted to follow his lead but wasn't sure how long it had been since He last scened.   "How long as He been dead?" Jilly thought to herself as yet another smack creased her ass cheek again.

"Three! Thank you Sir! May I have another?"

Jilly could feel both cheeks starting to burn.   But, that wasn't all.    Her twat started to leak it's fluid.   At first it was a drip or two, but as the smacks increased, so did the flow.    While not quite a stream, a puddle grew on the floor between her forcibly streched legs.   

The blows continued for some time, so much so Jilly almost lost count of each one.   From the beginning, every stroke was a bit harder than the one before.  With her brain starting to fog, keeping awake and continuing on was more and more difficult.  She didn't know how long it would last.   "Should I safeword," Jilly wondered, not sure what The Man's reaction would be.  

Closing her eyes again,  Jilly felt tears start to flow.  She told herself she needed this and that she needed it from Him.   Jilly also wanted it for Him.   She could almost feel His need to do this.   His longing was a taste in her mouth.   It was as if He was sweating and His scent filled her senses.   Jilly let out a loud sob with her realization.

The blows stopped suddenly.

With the stillness, Jilly again felt her chin gently lifted.     Thumbs that couldn't be seen wiped the tears from her face and, Ever to slightly, a kiss was placed on her slightly damp brow.  She stared into the space where nothing was seen and said:

"Sixteen.   Thank you Sir...."

Then as her words faded into a mumble,  Jilly felt her head gently laid upon the padded tabletop and she went to sleep.

When she  awoke, she found herself lying on her back on the padded tabletop.   Not only was she untied, but she was also fully clothed again.  Shoes, dress, bra, panties.  Everything.  It was like the whole experience was  merely a dream.   Blinking her eyes, Jilly sat up, turned and swung her legs over the edge of the table.

Pain from her ass caused her to arch her back.  Both of her ass cheeks throbbed as she tried to move again.  Jilly closed her eyes, processing the agony.  When she opened them again, she found herself staring at floor between her legs.   There she saw a puddle of liquid Jilly knew was her's.   

She also noticed not all the pain came from her ass cheeks.   Her wrists and ankles hurt as well.   Turning her gaze to each spot, Jilly found rope marks in each place.  "Those are going to be some wonderful bruises" she told herself.   A slight smile grew on her face.

Jilly looked around and then then shot a glance at the mirror wall.  All she could see was the furniture in the room and herself.    She didn’t see the Man anywhere in the mirror.  Examining the racks, Jilly noticed the ropes were coiled back in their hanks and hanging where they should.  Everything was back where it was when she first walked into the room.   Everything that is, except for her puddle.

She hopped off the table and attempted to stand.   Not very successful at first, Jilly managed to steady herself and slowly walked to the door.  This side of the door had the lever on the deadbolt.    She flipped it and swung the door open.  Walking through and pulling the door closed behind her, Jilly noticed a key in the deadbolt on the outside of the door.   

She smiled again as she locked the door and pocketed  the key.  

Chapter 1

Jilly stood before the long-forgotten door.   It stood at the end of a long corridor, in the basement of The Club.  No one went down this far anymore.   Everyone knew the door and the room it led to exist, but people shied away from it.   She was told no one went in because a Dom was murdered there.

The door was like the rest in the corridor.   Simple solid wood, stained cherry red.   Brass hinges dulled by time and lack of maintenance, glass doorknob covered in a thick coat of dust.   The only difference from the other doors was a dead bolt keeping it locked.

Still, Jilly felt something.   A calling from the other side of the door.   Something, an almost pleading beckoning coming from the other side.   Something, or someone was asking to come in.

She placed her hand on the knob, knowing the door would not give.   Madam Webb had told Jilly the key to the door had been lost years ago.   After the murder, the room was sealed and, in time, the key was lost.   Still Jilly twisted the knob and pushed to satisfy her curiosity.

Much to her surprise, the door opened revealed a semi darkened room.   Though she knew no one had been inside for year, a few of the lights glowed with a soft luminesce.   From the doorway, Jilly could see things that the other playrooms on this level had.   Floggers and paddles hung from racks along the walls.   A St. Andrew’s cross in a corner, a spanking bench over there, a wall of mirror in the back.  And centered in the middle of the room was a long-padded table.

The longing pulled at Jilly as her eyes took it all in.   She could not tell if it was her own longing or something else.  

Or someone’s else.

With a deep breath, Jilly and allowed herself into the room.   The pull was too great for her.  She need to be in here.   Step by step, her feet padded across the tile floor.  Before she knew it, Jilly found herself standing before the padded table.   She continued to look around her when she heard a slam and click of a lock.

Turning back to the door, she saw it was closed and knew the locking sound came from the deadbolt.   Still, Jilly wasn’t afraid.   She felt safe in the room but just didn’t understand what was happening.   Placing her hands on the table, Jilly looked around the room, asking “Is someone there?”

No answer came.   She closed her eyes and tried to hear the sound of anyone else in the semi darkness.    All she could hear was her own breathing.  For a good deal of time, Jilly leaned there listening, hoping to hear something but nothing came to her.  She wasn’t afraid.  Just, really, disappointed.

With a final sigh, she decided to leave.   “There isn’t anyting here” Jilly told herself.   Just dust, air currents and wishful thinking.   As she tried to lean up from the table, had a small problem.   She could not move.

It was as if her hands were glued to the table.   No matter how much she pulled, they would not move.   In trying to get a better stance, Jilly felt as if her feet were bolted to the floor.  She was simply stuck where she was.    Her breathing increased as panic started to set in.   Tear started to moisten her eyes.

It was then Jilly felt a warm touch on her cheek, as if the palm of hand placed itself there.   And a feeling of a thumb stroked under her left eye, wiping a tear away.   She felt the fingers of the invisible hand slide down her face and cup her chin.    Slowly, the hand lifted her head until Jilly found herself looking into the mirror wall.

She not only saw herself and the rest of the room, but a reflection of someone else.   Jilly’s eyes took in the image of a tall, well-dressed man.   Black dress pants with a red belt and black shoes.   His shirt was white as freshly driven snow, sleeves rolled up revealing well-muscled forearms.   Jilly also saw one of hands holding the chin of her own reflection.

Her gaze shifted to the man’s face.   It was weathered, like he had spent a good deal of time outside.   Leathery but in a good fashion.   Well-trimmed beard, dark lips closed with a clamped jaw.   But it was the eyes that Jilly drank in.  

The man had crystal blue eyes that drilled into Jilly through the reflection.   Eyes that commanded, and yet pleaded with Jilly.    Eyes that burned and asked her a question.

Jilly lifted her chin from the pressure and said, “I don’t understand”.

Suddenly, she felt some pain, as the hair on the back of her head was yanked and twisted so he was forced to look at a corner of the mirror.   Slowly, letters appeared as if they were etched in the surface of the reflection.    Jilly’s eyes widened as the sentence was completed:

“Do You Consent?”

With realization, Jilly looked down at the table, gulped, and nodded her head.   The grasp on the back of her head yanked again and forced her to look once more into the mirror.  She saw the man had a frown on his back and was pointing at the words.

Jilly locked eyes with the man in the mirror and told him yes.