Perfect Slave

She didn't even use the safe word when I strapped her to the railings of our balcony at the hotel we stayed in, on holiday, in Cyprus, even though everyone who passed by, could see her nakedness, see clearly, her sex held open, spread as she was by the ties. Not a sound escaped her as I whipped her ass in full view of those total strangers, not a tear, nothing, only a renewed eagerness to make me happy when I released her.

I had not reached her boundaries in the eighteen months she had been with me. I am sure she had them, but I had not found them as yet and I wasn't sure I wanted to go very much further in searching for them. Perhaps my boundaries were narrower than hers.

I left her with a leash on, tied to an eyebolt in the wall in the kitchen. Her instruction for the day was to defrost the fridge and prepare dinner for that evening. The leash, attached to her iron neck ring, was long enough to give her complete movement around the kitchen, but nowhere else. She would be naked, her