The Diaries of Syra Bond Read online

  I stretched my legs out further and slipped both my hands between them, resting the palms flat against the insides of my thighs so my thumbs touched either side of my soft labia. I shivered again as the grazing of my thumbnails set fresh sparks of sensation shooting through my body. I was energised by the charge of feeling as it coursed through me, tugging at my nerves. My stomach muscles tightened and I shivered again, looking desperately at Galen. I needed the reassurance of his commanding presence. I needed to know he was there, watching me and observing all my reactions because they mattered to him.

  ‘How long was I in the tank?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Why do you want to know, Syra, what is worrying you?’

  ‘How long was I in there?’ I asked again breathlessly. ‘Please tell me. And did I imagine those things or did I experience them?’ I felt myself beginning to panic.

  ‘Calm down, my pet. No harm has come to you. How long do you think you were in the tank?’

  The firm sound of his voice helped clear some of the mist of my confusion. I realised I had no idea how long I had been suspended in a dark void, and I did not know what to reply. In a sense it had seemed like only minutes, and in another sense it had felt like forever. ‘A few minutes?’ I ventured a guess. ‘Maybe more?’

  ‘Then you have answered your own question, Syra.’

  I was not reassured.

  ‘But the things I thought I saw...’ I went on hesitantly, still wanting the solid truth. ‘They seemed so real. But they weren’t, were they? Please tell me what’s been happening to me, Galen. Were those things I saw and felt real?’

  ‘Do you wish them to be real, Syra?’

  I pursed my lips and looked down. I felt like a confused child uncertain of the world and of my place in it, because I still could not quite grasp where fantasy ended and reality began. I stared at my hands resting between my legs and could not believe I did not feel embarrassed at my nakedness and exposure. ‘Yes,’ I said at last, ‘I do. I do wish they were real.’

  ‘Then do not be concerned, Syra. You have nothing to be afraid of any more. Fear is not part of you now. Your fears have been exposed for the charlatans they are. Now you can be as bad as you wish. There is nothing holding you back. I promise you that now your every desire can be fulfilled. You only need to test yourself and you will have the proof you need what I am saying is true.’

  That word again - bad - sent shivers of delight down my spine. The sound of it thrilled me intensely. It was like a parcel of bliss containing everything I had once been afraid of and everything I now desired. In some way that small, simple word held all the things I secretly wished for, every craving I ever dared have, and Galen’s promise unwrapped it and laid its contents bare for me like a priceless gift. ‘Can I truly be bad?’ I asked, thrilling to my own utterance of the word. ‘Truly, truly, bad?’

  ‘Does it excite you to watch the young woman down there in the alley?’

  ‘Yes, very much.’

  ‘Does the fact that she has sold herself for money excite you?’

  ‘Yes...’

  ‘And does the idea of her now having to satisfy a stranger thrill you, Syra?’

  My throat was dry. I could hardly speak, but after I swallowed, I said the only thing that was possible. ‘Yes, it thrills me.’

  ‘And the idea that she does not know what this stranger wants, what things he wishes to do to her, does that excite you as well, Syra?’

  ‘More than anything,’ I breathed. ‘The idea of having to do something but not knowing what it is excites me more than anything.’

  ‘Then watch.’

  The driver turned the girl around and she leaned forward across the bonnet. I felt the control he had over her. He had paid for her and she had agreed to do whatever he wanted. Until the contract was satisfied, she would not be released. I could imagine how she felt now beholden to his every whim, no longer able to control what she did or what happened to her. Her only goal was to do what she was told and to strive to please him. Her only purpose was to satisfy any desires he demanded satisfied by her nubile young body. My heart pounded at the thought of being in her position, of following instructions without question, of being blindly obedient and completely submissive. It was so arousing I wanted to run down and take her place. I wanted to bend over the bonnet of the cab and wait for the first demand to be made. I wanted to experience the fear that would accompany the anticipation, and the sinking sense of hopelessness and despair tainting the dark exhilaration of being forced to satisfy a stranger’s sexual demands.

  The man put his hand on the girl’s back and bent her fully forward across the shiny metal bonnet. Her pleated skirt lifted slightly and the pert curve of her buttocks could be seen from beneath the hem. Only the slightest crease marked the joining of her bottom cheeks to the top of her thighs, and I could see the tension in the beautifully smooth skin where it turned delicately into the shadowed indentation between her legs. I sensed her willingness to bend forward in front of the man, and the easy manner with which she did so entranced me. The simple act of facing away from him and leaning forward so her unprotected bottom was thrust towards him struck me as the epitome of submissive compliance.

  The driver lifted the hem of her skirt slightly, and I trembled as the white edge of her panties was revealed. I leaned forward in my chair and peered intently into the space between her thighs, but the driver let go of her skirt and it fell as if in slow motion, almost fully covering her panties again and concealing from view the white purse of her pudenda.

  ‘Could you do that?’ Galen asked me abruptly.

  I was surprised by the sound of his voice. I knew I wanted to do it as I watched, as I sat safe on the balcony, but wanting was not the same as doing. ‘Yes,’ I said, without letting myself think about it.

  ‘Then bend over in front of me. Get down on your knees, put your hands on the edge of the balcony, and expose your bottom, your pussy and your anus to me while you watch the scene below.’

  I did not hesitate to do as he instructed. First I stood up and faced him, so he could look at me and I could enjoy the feel of his eyes on me. I hoped he would look at my breasts and see how hard my aching nipples were, and if he chose to, he could stare closely and see them lifting slightly with each throbbing beat of my heart. I wanted to see his eyes on the shaved flesh of my pussy. I wanted to watch him gazing at it intently, observing that the smoothness of my skin was broken only by goose bumps of excitement.

  He indicated with a pointing finger that I should turn around and get down on my knees. My heart pounded in my chest, making it hard for me to take a deep breath as I fought to control my trembling limbs. I was filled with anticipation, bursting with a flood of expectation. It was as much as I could take. I was already very wet. How could anticipation be so fulfilling? How was it possible to be taken to your breaking point by a mere thought, without any physical contact, without the completeness of action? How could expectation itself lead me to the very brink of gratification? I turned away from his eyes and lowered myself onto my knees. I felt his gaze on my back. I could feel the heat of his stare as it penetrated every pore of my skin and made my blood boil with lust. Slowly I knelt and sat with my buttocks pressed against my upturned heels. I squared my shoulders, sat up straight and clasped my hands together behind my back. I stiffened my arms, forcing my breasts forward and tightening my stomach and thigh muscles.

  ‘On your hands and knees,’ he said sharply.

  I felt a twinge of guilt that I had not obeyed his exact instructions right away, and bit my lip, feeling like a naughty girl. I had been indulging myself too much in the pleasure of submitting to him and in so doing failed to obey him, now he was disappointed in me. I unclasped my hands and planted them on the floor. Then, still facing away from him, I bent forward and knelt compliantly before him as I wrapped my fingers over the unprotected edge
of the balcony. It was an act of remorse; I felt it as an act of penance, the only way I could show him I was sorry for my moments of slavish pride. I lifted my buttocks as high as I could, asking him to forgive my vanity by offering him my assets. I wanted him to look at my pudenda blooming invitingly between my thighs. I wanted him to glimpse the depth of my feeling for him in the promising shadow between my bottom cheeks. I wanted him to admire the sensual dip of my back as I gripped the edge of the balcony and lowered my shoulders as far as I could. I wanted him to forgive me.

  I kept my bottom high as my eyes focused again on the scene below. The young woman was still lying prone across the bonnet of the taxi, the hem of her pleated skirt still barely breaking the line of whiteness that was the edge of her panties. The driver was still standing behind her, but now he dangled a rope from his hand. He looked ominous and threatening, especially since I could not tell if she was aware of what he was holding. She was still running her hands across the shiny metal, and she was either unaware of the rope in his hand, as yet innocent of its threat, or she knew about it because it was part of their agreement and she was anticipating its bite. If she was anticipating it, I wondered if she was afraid of the pain it might bring her of if she was relishing the sting that would perversely feed her fulfilment. Both possibilities excited me as I eased forward slightly so my face was hanging fully over the edge of the balcony. I imagined if I went too far, if I forgot myself, that Galen would grab me by the ankles and hold me there, dangling naked and suspended on his mercy.

  I did not know what to expect from the tableaux below me. I did not know what I would prefer to happen. The alternatives were confused inside me in an arousing way as I fought to find reality amongst the pictures flashing through my mind. Did I want to see him tie her down so she could not move, and would I feel the tightly pulled bonds against my own wrists and ankles if he did so? Would I wriggle in front of Galen like a captured animal desperate to free myself? I pictured the look in the girl’s eyes, desperate for rescue, desperate to hold on to her courage until he decided what to do with her as already she regretted their bargain. I lifted my bottom higher as the driver swung the rope idly in his hand. The sight of its lazy, swaying motion hypnotised me. I could feel my eyes following it and could sense my mind being paralysed by the rhythmic movement. It seemed to mimic the beating of my heart and the aroused pulsing of the veins in my neck as I began breathing in time with it. I stared, entranced, at the swinging rope and the beautiful victim it threatened.

  The man reached forward with the hand holding the rope. He extended his forefinger and inserted the tip beneath the hem of her skirt so the loose braids of the rope fell across her bottom. He lifted the hem slightly and exposed not just the edge of her panties but the full tight spread of them enclosing her taut young buttocks. I could see the shadowy line down the centre of the material outlining the sweet divide between her bottom cheeks, and again I revelled in the sight of the darker hollow opening up like a secret valley beneath the flimsy gusset. One of the strands of rope lay in the furrow at the centre of the gusset and its end fell between her open thighs.

  I wanted him to lift her skirt higher and not pull it down again, ever. I wanted to remain suspended in that moment of time until the end of time. This was the point at which I desired all actions to pause, the moment just before something happened, the cusp of expectation, the edge of the beginning of fulfilment. I wanted to see myself watching this scene forever, never having to release the tension of my orgasm, never having to commit myself to the energy that would eventually lead to dissipation. I did not want any more. This point was the point I wanted to inhabit eternally. But it could not be. Moments like these could not last; they were too perfect.

  He folded the hem of her skirt up and I watched it drape across her hips. I expected to feel disappointment, but the folded edges of the sharp pleats lying above the waistband of her panties and crumpled against her bare back sent a shiver of delight through me like the unstoppable surge of an ocean swell. He took hold of the elastic rimming her panties and pulled them down in one swift movement, exposing her abruptly, shockingly, and now there was no going back. She writhed slightly as he tugged the white cotton down to her knees, and I saw the backs of her legs tense as the material pulled into a twisted knot around them.

  ‘Have you decided what you want to happen?’ Galen asked from behind me. His question was like a flash of lightning devastating me with excitement. I was surprised and shocked and swallowed nervously as my grip on the edge of the balcony weakened dangerously. Suddenly I felt dizzy and anxious, reeling with nerves, vulnerable and frail.

  ‘Have you decided what you want to happen?’ he asked me again.

  This time I felt afraid; afraid because I had not responded instantly, afraid he would abandon me as a failure once and for all. But I did not know what to say. And I did not know what he wanted to hear. But he had asked me for a decision and I knew I had to make one, fast. I opened my legs slightly, so my pussy was more fully exposed to him. I imagined his gaze on it, his dark eyes looking closely at my moist flesh, but it was not enough to distract me, I still had to give him an answer. I still had to decide what I wanted to happen down there in that dark alley. But already it was too late. I could sense my master’s impatience and I could see the driver lifting the rope behind his head. He was making ready to lash it down on the girl’s upturned buttocks, and within seconds it would all be over. Once the rope had bitten her skin, I would not be able to decide what I had wanted to happen. Events would have overtaken me. I would have failed. Galen would see me as inadequate and would desert me. He would find someone else to take my place and he would tell her how I was a failure like the pet and like Cleo. I would become nothing more than another failure, just another of the many young women unable to fully appreciate and take advantage of the training he made available.

  The rope lifted higher as the man extended his arm. I saw the girl’s bottom cheeks tighten in trepidation, and the shadow between her upturned buttocks narrowed into a thin line as she drew her lovely mounds together in fearful anticipation. She spread her hands out flat on the bonnet of the car to brace herself, extending her arms fully and tensing her shoulders. She turned her face to the side, biting down on her full bottom lip, and I saw in the amber light how she squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could in a vain attempt to absorb the pain she knew would be visited upon her within seconds.

  Still I had not answered him. It was as though I could not fight against the distraction of the images being presented to me. It was as if even Galen’s request was not enough to focus my attention away from the exquisitely promising moment below me. I felt wayward and distraught. I had lost my way and did not know in which direction to turn. But I had to speak, I had to reply, I had to tell him what I desired.

  ‘I... I want it to happen to me...’

  Had I answered correctly? Would my reply please him or had I waited too long? Had I failed?

  ‘Watch the little drama until the end, Syra my pet, and then I will send you down into the streets and you can experience it for yourself. I will know everything you do, of course, everything that happens to you, but when you come back you will tell me everything in your own words. I will want to hear it from you and I will want to make sure what you tell me is correct. But for the moment, simply watch, my pet.’

  I peered down into the shadowy alley as earnestly as I could. I watched the flailing rope and listened to the stinging blows as they fell. I saw the perspiration glistening on the girl’s buttocks and saw, even in the dim light of the streetlamp, the lines of redness appearing on her smooth skin. Then I saw other men enter the alley and take their turn whipping her as two of them held her down against the bonnet. Some of them chose to spank her, and she raised her bottom higher with each smacking blow as though revelling in its force, the sound it made, and the penetrating pain it filled her with.

  I watched avidly as t
hey finally turned her over, stripped her naked and tied her firmly to the bonnet. I saw the rope lashed around her chest, binding her tightly across the breasts, and peered eagerly, trembling with shockwaves of pleasure inevitably building into an orgasm, as they drew some of the rough rope down between her legs, tugging it tightly up into the sensitive valley between her thighs before leading it back up around her trim waist.

  I clutched the edge of the balcony even more tightly as I saw her legs spread wide by grasping hands, and I was seized by the clenching grip of a climax as Galen began spanking me, with each blow driving me further out over the edge of the balcony. I watched the men take the helpless young beauty in every way they desired while I, too, longed to be filled with throbbing cocks. I yearned to be penetrated by endless erections and baptised with flowing semen as countless took me repeatedly. I wanted to be tied and passed from man to man as I succumbed to every pleasure they demanded from my flesh. Then I wanted to be spread across their laps and spanked as punishment for everything I had done with them and every orgasm I had experienced. I wanted my bottom spanked like the girl in the alley, as I felt cool cum flowing over it and running like a river between my thighs and over my smouldering vulva.

  And when it was all over, when I was panting with fatigue, when semen was trickling from the corners of my mouth, I wanted to be freed from my bonds. I wanted to feel myself slipping off the smooth bonnet of the taxi and sinking to my knees in silent exhaustion and supplication. I wanted to experience the dizzy confusion as I knelt, used and spent, on the cobbles of the alley and attempted to wipe myself dry with the tattered cotton of my torn white panties. And then I wanted to feel again the smarting pain of a final spanking.