Anna, All Tied Up--A Collection (A Paranormal BDSM Story)

I was dressed in a body suit of black mesh that hid next to nothing of my skin beneath. A silver mask hid my face from scrutiny and I carried a sort of short whip that Ewan had called a scourge. It was comprised of many strands of soft velvet cording, like an overlong tassel, finishing in a black, leather bound handle that felt good within my hand.

I doubted that it could ever inflict real damage as soft as the strands were, but the heft and weight of it gave me the illusion that I could yet control what was about to happen.

In very short order, that illusion was wiped away.

The elevator came to a stomach fluttering halt and its doors slid open upon a great hall filled with animals and other queer creatures milling about. The rustling of elaborate costumes and voices muffled behind all manner of masks came to a perfect silence in the instant after we stepped into the room.

There might have been one hundred of them, two hundred, even. I could not say, but they each and every one stopped in mid sentence and turned to face us.

My thoughts were a ruddy mix of pride and fear under their regard. Pride to be found at the side of Ewan Crest, my master, and for whom all before us then inclined their heads in an unmistakable gesture of respect. Fear because I knew that Ewan was an extravagant man and that if this masquerade was meant for his amusement and those assembled here, then I would soon find myself the center around which this hub of decadent beasts would turn.

We stepped down among them and they parted like the sea before us. The murmur of their voices surged up in excitement and the line opening before our steps led to what appeared to be some sort of bizarre table.

Our steps were slow, measured, and as we move closer to the wooden contraption in the center of the room, a wolf faced man leaned in and said, "Oh, Ewan...the boxing is going to be wonderful this year."
Ewan gave no answer other than a slight nod then seized my arm as we drew near to what I had thought was a table.

It was not flat as any table should be, but a series of opened wooden compartments. The wood was old, its veneer polished and shining. The surface had been inlaid with marquetry of the finest sort. French craftsmen had placed capering animals etched in precious woods, their colors contrasting with the rest of the piece. There were astronomical symbols, of a quality meriting a place among the most precious works of black magic.

I looked at it and with a feeling of lead settling into my stomach, I could see that it was lined in red velour and in that interior, the velour would hold the form of a four limbed being. A human being. Its parts were articulated with heavy, antique hinges where the joints of a person would be but its soft interior could leave no doubt. It was as much a prison as an iron maiden rusting and blood stained in an ancient chateau, only lacking the needled interior to terminate its macabre charm.

Once closed it would hold a person completely. The only openings that I could make out were at the juncture of where a pelvis would fit, both front and back. There were also cutouts at chest level. Two of them through which breasts might be drawn and punished.
I looked to Ewan, alarm flashing through me, but he did not notice, his gaze intense and staring at the articulated device.

"Master...I can't. Not this time," I said. My tone was low, meant just for him, but he was uninterested....