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She parted the curtains, shivering in her nakedness. Wind still tore through the trees, whipping through the tall grass. She searched for the sun, the grey light hinting its presence but the storm still smothering it in the sky.

The plug moved within her as she shifted, coaxing the demon. Even the residual discomfort from her lapse couldn’t stop the monster within. It was growing stronger, fueled by the castle walls, flooding her veins.

“Good morning,” Adam’s voice drifted towards her from the doorway. “Did you sleep well?”

She turned to face him, nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

“Abel called. Several times.”

Her eyes moved to where her purse rested on the dresser, her phone buried somewhere inside it. She had watched it light up several times in the darkness, each sending a chill through her body.

“I told him you were with me.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

His hand ran over his face, a movement which made him look far too much like his brother. “I heard about what you did last night.”

She clenched down on the plug, the shame searing through her. “I’m sorr—”

“What you did was stupid and dangerous.” He moved towards the bed, sitting down on the edge. “You should’ve been punished, not rewarded.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, surprised at the darkness in his voice.

“Come here.”

The words pulled her to him, regardless of what lay waiting. She deserved to be punished. She had known it would come the minute she lowered herself onto the bed post.

He pulled her over his lap, his hand caressing her bare skin before grasping the base of the plug. “I want to make it clear this punishment has nothing to do with the route you chose to penetrate.”

She squirmed when he pulled the plug from her body, the emptiness consuming. “Yes, Sir.” Her toes pressed into the floor, her heart never more aware of his authority than when his hand slammed down on her skin. She bit into her lip, shocked at the sting.

His hand came down harder, igniting her nerves. “I won’t allow you to hurt yourself.”

She sucked air into her lungs, trying to force words from her mouth as his hand assaulted her once again. The pain splintered through her, taunting the demon. “Yes, Sir.”

“What you did was dangerous, and it won’t be tolerated.” His hand smacked down, remaining pressed into her flesh before flying back and slamming down once again.

“Yes, Sir.” She closed her eyes, focusing on the sting every time his hand landed. It rippled through her, bringing a soft moan from her lips.

“God damn it, Leah.” His hand slid between her legs, wiping the moisture from between her folds.

God had already damned her. Enslaved her with the needs he had etched into her soul. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

His hand came down again, the lingering heat fueling the ache within her. He sighed, his fingers shoving into her, curling inside her. “Alright, you win again.”

He pulled her into his arms before throwing her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress, rolling onto her back in time to see him shove his pants to the floor. Then his weight was on top of her, pushing her legs over her head. She tensed, her body folding in half beneath his.

He thrust into her, into the part her husband had always claimed. She cried out, clawing at his skin as her legs kicked over his shoulders. Her nails tore into his back, her body desperate to keep his inside it. Her sore flesh bounced against his thighs, the heat searing down her legs. She shivered beneath the warmth of his skin, her need surging as he ravaged her.

She reached down, her fingers grasping his hips, pulling them forward each time he pulled back. The heat was beginning to rise, his body forcing it from her as it penetrated through her. Her eyes squeezed shut, awaiting the oncoming explosion.

She whimpered when it hit, clinging to his body, terrified of the moment he would leave her empty again. She wanted to be filled. She needed to be completed. To be whole. To be safe. But the feel of him pulsing deep within her cut into her heart, her hands refusing to let go as his body slowed.

He pulled away, his face taut as he began pulling on his pants. “You’re too good at topping me from the bottom.”

She pulled the covers over herself, frozen without the heat of his body. “I don’t underst—”

“Master Thomas, the head trainer, will begin working with you—”

“You’re not going to train me?”

He turned away, shutting the door behind him.

**************

The sound of his hand slapping against her skin haunted her mind. Her heart was still lost in the hallways of the castle as her body dragged towards the glass door of reality. She wondered if the massive grey walls would still be there when she returned. Maybe they would disappear as quickly as they had appeared, another mirage created by the devil to test her strength.

“Good morning!” Clara’s smile and light eyes followed her as she made her way to her desk.

“Morning.” The heat from her punishment permeated beykent escort through her when she sat. She pulled off her coat then turned on the computer, waiting for the screen to load so she could review the appointments for the day.

“We missed you yesterday.”

The residual burn taunted her need, bringing her arousal soaking into her slacks. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well.”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Clara’s hand wrapped around the ringing phone, pulling it to her ear. “Dr. Randall’s Office, how can I help you?”

Confusion consumed her. Confusion at her body’s response to each wrongful stimulus. Confusion at why a man she thought could be her savior had teased her demon, led it to believe it could finally inhale then punished it for rising to the surface for air.

The door swung open, a cold breeze lifting the edges of the papers in front of her. She looked up, the burn ripping through her chest when he stepped inside. She tried to inhale but her body refused, the air too thick to easily flow into her lungs.

He strolled towards the desk, smiling as he laid a bouquet of white roses in front of her. “For my beautiful wife.”

Her eyes moved from the white petals to the de-thorned stems. The heat from her punishment disappeared, her blood turning to ice beneath his stare.

“I wish my husband was so thoughtful,” Clara said, eyeing the roses. “I can’t remember the last time he bought me flowers.”

He flashed a false smile, the one she always saw play over his face when they weren’t alone. “Clara, do you mind if I steal my wife away for a few minutes?”

Clara shook her head then winked. “Not at all.”

Her chest tightened as she stood. She followed him out the front door, the wind tearing at her hair as the rain began to fall. She huddled close to the building as they walked around the side, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered.

He turned towards her, closing the space between them. “I’m willing to overlook your failures as a wife and woman of God.”

She took a step back as he leaned towards her, pressing herself into the side of the building, wishing she could crumble into it.

“And I’ll continue to be a good husband in my attempts to keep you on the path to God.”

She had strayed too far this time, unlike the others. She shook her head, her body trembling. “I’m not coming home,” she whispered, unsure if she had truly spoken.

“Yes, you are.” His mouth twisted, stealing the beauty from his face. “Adam won’t keep you forever, and you’ll never survive on your own. You’re too naive, too helpless and too sick.”

She wiped the tears before they fell from her eyes. He was right. Always right. Adam had made it clear he couldn’t handle her sickness, and she was going to be given to another man who would attempt to conquer her demon. No matter where she ran, she always ended up in the same place. It was time to give up. To give in. To get her belongings from the castle, leave the community to those who could honor it.

“I’ll see you at 5:30.”

********

She stared up at the high towers, watching the lightning ignite the sky. The rain crashed into her skin, mixing with the tears as they fell from her face. Maybe the angels were weeping for her, or helping to wash away her sins.

The door to the right opened, Master Damien’s blue eyes searching for hers through the storm. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head as she tried to wipe the rain and tears from her face.

“Are you lost?”

Yes. More so than she had ever been.

His face hardened as his shoulders squared. “Come inside out of the rain.”

Thunder roared through the air, the wind chilling her soul. She walked towards the man she barely knew, wondering how long it would be before he proved he was like all the rest.

“Come.” His voice beckoned her to follow, down the long hallway towards the room she had been given. “Take off those wet clothes and get in the shower before you make yourself sick.”

She shivered as she peeled the shirt from her skin, far too aware of his eyes on her body.

He turned on the hot water, holding his hand beneath the stream as it warmed. “Why were you standing in the rain?”

Because for a brief moment her heart had refused to carry her any farther. “I didn’t know where to go.”

“Why are you so afraid?”

She stepped beneath the burning torrent, goosebumps covering her flesh as she trembled. “Because I have no idea what’s right and what’s wrong.” She sank to her knees, shivering as the water scorched into her spine.

“How is it that you’re terrified of what will happen to your soul once you’re dead but you do nothing to take care of it while you’re alive?”

She shook her head, dropping her hands to her lap, no longer interrupting the tears as they dripped down her face.

****************

“Adam?” She called his name into the flames, watching them dance as they surrounded her.

A gaziosmanpaşa escort hand reached through the fire, grabbing hers and pulling her towards it. She pulled back, terrified the inferno would ignite her skin, but the hand held firm. It dragged her forward, through the flames and into his arms.

Master Damien’s fingers trailed down her cheek, reflections from the flames flickering over his skin. “Are you lost?”

She shook her head. For the first time, she knew where she needed to go. “Please, come with me, Sir.” She took his hand, begging him to follow her back to the darkness. She wanted to take him with her, show him the demon hidden within her.

“Don’t worry, Leah,” he soothed as he smiled, raising her hand and pressing his lips to her palm, “I already know the way.”

She jumped when the flames hit her flesh, but they didn’t burn. The heat filled her lungs, melting the ice that had settled there long ago.

Her eyes flew open, the sound of the door creaking jolting her from the dream. She squeezed them shut, desperate to run back. But Master Damien had already disappeared along with the warmth he had brought her, leaving her shivering beneath the covers. When she opened her eyes again, Adam was staring back at her.

“It’s time to wake up, Leah.” He walked towards the bed, his eyes as dark as his brother’s often were. “Don’t get dressed.”

She crawled from the bed, avoiding the familiar stare.

“Master Thomas is waiting for you.”

Her fingers combed through her hair as they weaved through the hallways, the tension in his body sealing her lips. He turned into the room she had been brought to when she first arrived, pointing at the floor in the center. The wood was hard and cold as her knees pressed into it, sending a chill through her body.

Her eyes nervously turned towards him, searching for an answer she knew she would never be granted. Maybe he was tired of her demon tempting his own. His hands ran over his face, his gaze refusing to meet hers.

Footsteps approached behind her before a stack of papers was dropped to the floor in front of her. “Don’t leave anything blank.”

She looked up at the unfamiliar face with greying hair and youthful skin. “Yes, Sir.”

He dropped a pen onto the stack. “If there are things you’re not sure of yet, like what some of your hard limits may be, check what you know then check ‘Others to be determined.'”

She looked down at the packet, scanning over the massive checklist. “Yes, Sir.”

“There’s also another matter we need to discuss.”

She looked up, tensing as he flipped through another stack of papers.

“If you wish to be in the community, you can’t be married to someone outside of the community.” His face was taut as he spoke, his eyes glancing towards Adam. “While others may be okay with bending the rules, I won’t touch you until both stacks are completed.”

She took the packet from his hand, already aware what it contained.

“All you have to do is sign. We’ll take care of the rest. The community will provide everything you need until the assets are settled.”

She bit into her lip, her hands shaking as she read the first page.

Adam shifted in his chair, the movement cutting into her thoughts. “All communication and negotiations can be done through your lawyer.” He leaned towards her as he spoke, his hands twisting in his lap. “You won’t ever have to see him again, unless you choose to.”

***

She sucked in the air then let it out slowly. The more she concentrated on each breath the harder they became. The less satisfying they became. Rain pounded against the window, the wind howling outside the bedroom walls. She ran her thumb up the stack of papers in front of her, watching as the pages fell back into place.

She climbed off the bed, remaining as naked as the other girls in the castle as she made her way to the door. Her fingertips ran down the hallway walls as she wandered, the texture rough beneath her fingers. Her final escape was only a signature away, but she didn’t know if it was God or the devil who would be guiding her hand.

She rounded a corner, surprised when she saw Master Damien. She held her breath, staring into his back as he moved farther away. His shoes tapped lightly against the stone floor, the sound echoing through the desolate space. Her heart pounded when he paused. He stood for a moment, his body as still as her breath, then glanced back over his shoulder.

“No work today?”

Her eyes moved to the floor, his gaze unnerving her. “My soul didn’t feel like going, Sir.”

“What does your soul feel like doing instead?”

Nothing. Everything. “I don’t know, Sir.”

His footsteps moved closer, the sound throbbing through her until they paused in front of her. His finger pressed against the bottom of her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Would your soul like to get dressed and spend the day with me?”

His presence pulled at her ortaköy escort need, refusing to allow the word “red” from her lips.

“Go get dressed. I’ll meet you in your room shortly.”

She turned away, her heart pounding in rhythm with her steps. She wondered why the darkness seemed to surround him. It swirled through her as she inhaled it, dulling her reasoning. Logic wanted her to stay away, but the pulse in her veins brought her to her bedroom to do as his words had bade her.

“Are you dressed?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice behind her, her hands shaking as she zipped her pants. “Yes, Sir.”

“You’re missing something.”

“I am?” She looked down at herself, running her hands over her blouse, searching for missed buttons.

“Pull down your pants and bend over the bed, Leah.”

His words rippled through her as she looked up, noticing the butt plug he was spinning between his hands. The jeweled base glittered under the dull light, awakening the need that always brought her to her knees. Her hands moved to the button of her slacks, undoing it as she made her way to the edge of the bed. She shoved them to the floor, pressing her stomach into the mattress.

His fingers were slick but his touch was rough as he shoved them inside her. She pressed up on her toes as he probed her, her legs trembling by the time the tip of the plug slipped inside her. His movement slowed, ensuring she felt every centimeter as it was pushed into place.

“That’s better,” he said, giving the base a final twist before heading towards the door.

She pulled up her pants, trying to button them with shaking hands. The plug demanded her attention with every step, its presence a sweet torment. It shifted as he led her down the stairs, the movement slowing her until she reached the bottom.

He pulled open the front door, holding it as he beckoned her forward. She glanced towards the sky as she followed him to the limousine. The grey clouds looked as though they could shatter at any moment, the small drops they could no longer contain landing on her cheeks.

He held open the door for her, smiling as she stepped inside. “Cross your legs, ass on the floor.”

She tried to ignore the plug as it pushed deeper inside her. The vibrations rocked through her as the limo rolled over the gravel driveway. She clasped her hands together in her lap, squirming involuntarily each time they hit a bump.

“Are you enjoying yourself down there?”

Her cheeks burned hot at his question. “Yes, Sir.”

“Come here.”

She rose to her knees, moving closer to where he sat.

“Let me see how much you’re enjoying yourself.”

She froze when his hand slipped beneath her waistband, jerking when his fingers slid between her folds.

“Hold still.”

She sucked in a breath when his fingers pushed inside her. The air shot out of her lungs when he curled them forward. Her body jerked back, unsure how to handle the sensation.

“Hold still.” His hand followed her involuntary movements, his fingers continuing their torture.

She moaned and gasped, trying to maintain control as the tingle tore through her body. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, the sound drowned out by the echo of her wet desperation.

“I think you and I are going to enjoy each others company very much.” His fingers disappeared from her body, leaving her empty and wanting. He raised them to her face, her neglected arousal glistening on his skin. “Floor.”

***

The chair was unforgiving when she sat down at the table. She glanced around the restaurant, wondering if anyone noticed the flush of her cheeks. She thought the plug would be calming, a way to pacify the demon, but it was a false hope. Her need surged worse than ever before, her body in constant awareness of what she had always tried to suppress.

Her hands grasped the menu, her knuckles white as she tried to focus. Master Damien’s eyes remained on her, a slight curve to his lips as his hand ran through the stubble on his cheek. The shadow over his skin was darker than the first time she had seen him. She wanted to reach forward and touch it, unfamiliar with the feel. Her husband’s skin had always been shaven smooth, his eyes sideways glancing at any man who wasn’t.

His gaze moved away, greeting the waitress as she approached their table. “Ice water for both of us, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” the woman nodded, twirling her silver chain necklace in her hand as her eyes avoided his.

“I don’t like there to be any alcohol induced grey areas of consent,” he said as the waitress scurried away.

“Yes, Sir.” The heat rose to her face as she realized what she had said. She looked around the restaurant, praying no raised eyebrows would be staring her way.

“Don’t worry, Leah,” he started, following her gaze. “Even if they heard you, to most of them it wouldn’t matter.”

“They’re all masters and slaves?”

“All of the employees are, many of the patrons are. I avoid vanilla run establishments.”

She scanned the room again, noticing each waitress wore the same thin silver chain with a small ring in the center. “Is only doing business with other members of the community a rule?”

“No, it isn’t a rule, but it’s a preference of most.” He lowered his voice as he leaned towards her. “I prefer to keep my money out of the hands of the vanilla.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Butterflies. They were all she could think about standing in front of the ornate doors of the Hall. She was alone, practically naked, standing in front of what looked on the outside like an ancient church, topped by a domed, glass ceiling. The butterflies she was concerned with weren’t those fluttering around her almost-naked body in this late afternoon sun; they were the ones in her stomach that wouldn’t settle. Bryndis’ nerves had set her on edge. He had left her in the foyer, explaining exactly the way to go through the grounds. That walk by itself had been a challenge, walking across the lawn and through a deep wood. Though only about twenty minutes along a well-marked, sanded path – Bryndis had assured her there was no chance of getting lost so long as she stayed on the path and the sand felt lovely and soft on her bare feet – she had never been alone, outside, wearing only panties. There was no way to tell who was watching, who else was there.

The path was immaculate, but even so, her distraction caused her to stumble more than once on the way. She fought the desire to cover her breasts. They hung heavy and though some of the bruising had started to fade into a darker purple-green colour, the weight of them being constantly unbound lead to memories of her submission to him; this was surely why he had left them this way, but Annis was still processing emotions from safewording and the constant reminder left her feeling raw. The combination of feeling so exposed and being so physically exposed out amongst the grounds of the Institute was difficult. Bryndis’ final challenge to her was to ‘walk normally, breathe deeply and try to treat this as a time of meditation.’ It was easier to think of it that way, as she had been meditating regularly whilst they were away in the woods, but he had never had her meditate and walk, so she wasn’t entirely successful. Plus, he had clearly been afraid. Why afraid? What was it she was about to see?

She reached a hand out to push the door open, but as soon as she stepped close to the doors, they opened seemingly of their own accord. The first thing that surprised her was the light and the second was the girl. The Hall was situated in a dark wood which came almost up to its sides; the inside of the Hall, however, was suffused with light, streaming down through the glass dome of the ceiling into one large circular room. The treetops were visible, but mostly what one saw was the brilliant blue of the sky. Bryndis had said this was in its way a place of meditation and she could see why if only for the light. A sense of otherworldliness came over her, a sense that here, anything was permissible, as if in a story. She felt very strongly a presence of something… beyond. That, paired with the cool interior gave her a small sliver of peace through the butterfly flutterings of her stomach.

The girl, or woman now that Annis was closer, was another story. Standing in the middle of the room, in the very centre of the pool of the light, was a very beautiful woman. Slender with long dark hair streaming over her shoulders and between her thighs, she was wearing nothing. Nothing, that is, except for a silver chain connecting the rings in her small, taught breasts and her clit. When Annis first saw her, the woman had her hands behind her back, face turned up into the light, eyes closed, with a small smile on her face. Something about her sent a pang of pain to her heart and a pang of desire between her thighs. This was a kind of beauty Annis thought she could never achieve. She would never be waif-like, her skin never that shade of desert sand, her face never that perfect oval, her eyes never tilt in such a sultry manner. Her own beauty, the beauty Bryndis saw, she reminded herself, would always be different. But at the same time she wanted to reach out and touch that skin. The woman’s breasts in particular were so small and the nipples so long, Annis wondered what it would be like to suck on them or feel them tighten between her fingers. She was shocked at her curiosity, but it was there nonetheless. She sighed inwardly – something else for her journal. She wondered what Bryndis would think.

These thoughts came in the blink of a moment. As heat flushed between Annis’ thighs and her face for her thoughts, both of jealousy and lust, the woman turned her head, opened her eyes, and smiled deeply at Annis. ‘Welcome. I am Kata. I hope you like it here. This is your rightful place.’ She walked the short distance as she spoke and held out her hand to Annis. ‘Th-thank you.’ Annis stuttered while taking her hand, butterflies growing worse. What did this woman mean, this was her rightful place? Surely, a woman who looked so utterly at home here had more of a claim to it than she. Kata waited as if for Annis to say something else.

‘I’m sorry, Anna, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do here. My Kyros said I was to come and he seemed very nervous about it.’

This was met with an almost sly smile from Kata, her Japanese eyes hadımköy escort flaring in mischief. ‘He should be. In this place, today, you hold considerable power over him and over your future. But come, I will help you to understand. It is part of my place here. First, come over here, through the curtain. We must do things in proper order.’ Her voice lilted and smoothed the words through her soft accent. Before Annis could ponder more, Kata had moved ahead and through the door.

A curtain of white velvet hung loosely over a doorframe. As she passed through, the otherworldliness Annis had felt on entering the Hall was once again strongly pervasive. Once the velvet draped back over the opening, the two went from bright light to deep darkness. Annis felt Kata’s small hands slip into her hands, threading her fingers through Annis’. Annis took a deep breath, but said nothing. She shivered, feeling the coolness of the dark space on her naked skin and feeling the wetness of desire dampening her panties. After a moment, Kata rubbed her thumbs up Annis’ hands. ‘Good girl. You have begun to learn patience and the value of listening. Before we go further I must ask you three questions. You will answer me truthfully; here in this room, there are no lies for there is also no judgment. None can see and there are none here to hear except you and I. I will not tell anyone. In the eyes of the law, I am a psychologist and you are my patient. In the eyes of your Kyros and in the eyes of the Institute, I am your confessor. Anything you say is sacred and protected. Do you understand and agree?’

Annis understood that Kata was telling here there were no cameras, no video. Not even Bryndis would know what happened here. That Kata was a psychologist was a surprise, but the longer Annis thought over it, it made sense that a place like this would have at least one available, if not more. People had to face some of their hardest and darkest parts, doing something like this and going through it alone – even with a Kyros as sympathetic as Bryndis – was exceptionally challenging. Quenching the final flutterings in her stomach, she took a breath and answered.

‘Yes, I understand. I will answer and speak the truth.’

‘Good.’ Kata took a breath and held Annis’ hands tighter. ‘Are you a virgin?’

This took Annis by surprise. Didn’t everyone know she was a virgin? She was sure everyone had known. Still, she supposed that she and Bryndis could have slept together in the caves. Perhaps it was a just question. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘I am a virgin.’ She paused a moment and then said, ‘I am still in tact.’ She said that a bit more forcefully than she might have otherwise, but she didn’t like her honesty being questioned. However, there had certainly been times she wanted Bryndis to take her, not to wait.

‘Thank you, Annis.’ Kata was quiet, waiting again for the silence to engulf them. After a few minutes, she dropped Annis’ hands and stepped away. She began to speak again. ‘With this truth comes the light of knowledge.’ Suddenly, a flame arose from between Kata’s hands, a candle held beneath a small bunch of kindling in a large iron bowl set upon a plinth at chest level. Annis stood watching as the kindling caught and Kata built up the fire a bit with larger pieces of wood. Annis then understood that she was taking part in a sort of ritual, a ritual she didn’t quite understand but was apparently quite central to receiving more information. In that respect, the question made more sense. There had only been six other virgins in the history of the Institute; perhaps others had claimed to be virgins. That would explain rather a lot, thought Annis, the secrecy, the meeting in front of the Board, Bryndis’ nervers. Well, it didn’t explain Bryndis’ nerves. He knew she was a virgin; he had felt her a number of times.

At that point in her musings, Kata turned back to Annis, again taking up her hands.

Annis noticed a change between them now that she had no cover in darkness. Kata never looked away from her eyes and Annis, in her embarrassment of her desire and her self-consciousness had a hard time continuing to meet her gaze. Finally, Kata’s hands tightened again and she asked, ‘Do you believe you are ready to give your virginity to your Kyros?’

This time Annis was neither surprised nor did she need time to consider. ‘Yes,’ she said simply and waited.

Kata looked stolidly back at Annis, her face as placid as a mirror. Finally, she relented, lessening her hold and saying again ‘Thank you, Annis,’ before turning to a second bundle of kindling on a second plinth. ‘With this truth comes the light of sacrifice.’ In the flare of the candle, Annis noticed a third plinth set up across from the first. They were standing in another circular room, though much smaller than the main room of the hall. Like the covering over the doorframe, the walls were all hung with white velvet, flickering now in the growing light of the two haramidere escort small fires.

As Kata walked back, Annis could not help but notice how the light of the flames danced across Kata’s skin, how it sparkled on the silver of the chain connecting Kata’s nipples and clitoris. ‘I wonder how her nipples stay so taught and so long with the chain pulling at them’, Kata wondered to herself. At this thought, her breath caught in a gasp Kata couldn’t help but hear. She leaned her head toward Annis. ‘We will speak of this later,’ she whispered in a low, hard voice. Annis noticed that Kata’s face had resumed its placid demeanor and Annis flushed in shame. Kata merely waited, looking at Annis until she raised her eyes to the other woman’s.

Once Annis could look Kata in the eye again, Kata reached again for Annis’ hands, twining fingers together. Annis knew now what to expect with the tightening of those other hands on hers, but she was again shocked at the question. ‘With the exception of life and property, yours or anyone else’s, is there a price you would not pay to make your Kyros this sacrifice?’

A price? On Bryndis? She didn’t think she would give up her life, true, but she thought she might just give up a significant amount of property. She would give up a great deal, surely. Anything. She trusted him. ‘I would pay any price.’ Though she had hesitated in surprise and then to think it through, her voice was firm. She was certain.

Annis saw the tightening of Kata’s face as she turned away. She wasn’t sure why, but she had the impression that Kata was somehow disappointed. But, she thought, looking again, perhaps not. ‘With this truth comes the price.’ Kata’s voice was cold, her face placid as she kindled the fire and walked back to Annis.

This time, Kata did not take her hands. She stood farther away from Annis, actually, but continued speaking as if from a litany. ‘These are the three flames, knowledge, sacrifice, and price. Your truth in these things is part of what makes you giolla. These provide the foundation of your relationship with your Kyros. All else is dross.’ She grew silent, waiting, it seemed, for Annis to respond.

‘But what of love?’ It seemed to Annis the simplest question. Trust was the foundation of love; she had come to understand that unless she trusted him, she could never love Bryndis and without her trust, he could never love her. All of her suffering, the bruises on her hands and breasts and those between her thighs testified to their growing trust and perhaps to their foundation of love.

‘Take your panties off, lay on your back with your hands beneath your buttocks and your legs butterflied out. Close your eyes.’

This was not the response Annis had expected. In fact had it been a response? She didn’t know, but, looking at that placid face, Annis did as she was told.

Lying in a fire-lit room with her eyes shut in the presence of another person who was not Bryndis brought the butterflies back to her stomach. That this was a lithe, beautiful woman brought the wetness back, seeping onto her thighs. Keeping her eyes closed, she breathed in and out, trying to meditate. She was unprepared for the quick-fire pinch of her bruised flesh. Once on each breast and her pussy, those delicate fingers twisted with force and each pinch was accompanied with a word. ‘Knowledge,’ whispered Kata, twisting her left breast; ‘Sacrifice,’ she whispered again, pinching the right; ‘Price’ she finished, pinching hardest Annis’ clit, taking no notice of the still-healing bruises of the days before.

The pain came so deeply that Annis didn’t feel it until Kata was finished. Then it came with full force, sending white lights across Annis’ vision. She cried out and started to curl up, hiding her bruised body from further harm. Through her pain, she heard a soft, low voice whispering, ‘Knowledge, sacrifice, and price. This is the definition of love, Annis. This is his love for you and your love for him. Knowledge, sacrifice, and price. Anything else is merely jealousy and desire.’

That did shock Annis, even within her pain. Jealousy and desire was exactly what she felt about this woman. She glanced up and saw the knowledge on Kata’s face. She started to stifle her sobs and sit up, but the woman place a hand on her arm. ‘Lay back. I will not do that to you again.’ Kata waited until Annis had returned to her position. ‘There is something you need to know. In your relationship with me, you also have a choice. I am neither Kyros nor giolla. When I work with giolla, I am slightly on the Kyros side; when I work with Kyros, I am slightly on the giolla side. If there were middle ground here at the Institute, it would be me.’ She smiled broadly down at Annis. You can choose to treat me as giolla, to look me in the face, to question and laugh with me. But then you must know that any pleasure or pains I give you come at the behest of another higher than I, usually atakent escort with the commands of your Kyros. If you choose to treat me as Kyros, then I expect you to keep your eyes low, never looking directly higher than my knees without my express permission. You may still question and laugh with me, but with greater respect. Even then, any pains or pleasure I give you are still at the behest of your Kyros, for you are not mine to govern. Either way, you must put aside your lust. That is the price of sacrifice. Equally, you must choose. I will not have you darting your eyes back and forth.’

She was quiet a moment and then finished, saying, ‘you should know. It was Bryndis who said I might chastise you if you mentioned love in this setting. He did not command me, you understand. I am not giolla to be commanded. But he also dictated certain circumstances where I might give you pleasure – we haven’t quite gotten to that part yet.’ The last was said with that sly smile in her voice Annis remembered from before. ‘Nonetheless,’ she continued, ‘you must choose. We are about to start the second phase of the ceremony. You will keep your eyes on my face or on my feet and I will know. Also, you should know that in order to move on, you must finish the second stage. Otherwise you will be debriefed and you will leave us as you came. Are you ready?’

Annis was shocked at that. Shocked and embarrassed and… and… and angry! Bryndis had told her she could be chastised? She was to be handed off to another- that any one else would do that to her- she was very angry. And yet… she wasn’t ready to leave. Above everything else, she wanted to stay. Behind her anger, behind her embarrassment that this woman had seen her desire and put her in her place, behind the pain in her breasts and pussy, Annis held on to the growing faith that Bryndis had been telling the truth when he said he wanted her to stay. She took another deep breath.

‘I am ready.’

‘Well done.’ Kata went over to the first fire she had lit and drew out a short, very think piece of iron. Shaped like a pencil, the tip was smoking and, though not glowing red, had clearly been in the flames. Kata bent down and pushed up against her right breast, holding the iron close to the skin underside. ‘Out of the fires of knowledge comes pleasure and pain. You know of your virginal state and of the status that brings you and your Kyros. Do you accept the pain of knowledge?’ Oh Christ, thought Annis, what is she going to do?

‘Ye-es…’Annis answered, voice quavering. Almost before she had finished, Kata had the metal pressed to Annis’ skin and then off again. Annis still felt the sear of heat deep into her skin. She pressed her eyes closed and tried not to scream. It was a very different kind of pain than the beatings or the spankings. Suddenly, a cool hand was caressing her side. ‘You have accepted the pain of knowledge, Annis,’ said Kata. ‘Do you accept the pleasure?’

‘Ye-es…’ This time Anni’s voice quavered not through uncertainty, but through pain. Her mind was distracted, however, when she felt a vibrator on her clit and that lush mouth on her right nipple, teasing it upward. She groaned loudly as pleasure began to build, confusing the nerves of her breast still teeming with pain from the burn. That pain seemed to bleed away into the pleasure. All too soon, the pleasure stopped, though she still felt the hum of it through her body along with the pain of the burn.

Kata then returned the piece of iron to the fire and turned to the second plinth. ‘Out of the fires of sacrifice comes pleasure and pain. You believe you are ready to sacrifice your body for your Kyros. Do you accept the pain of sacrifice?’ Kata had drawn closer as she spoke, and as Annis gave a low moan of acceptance, pressed the stylus into the skin just under her left breast.

The pressure of the iron lasted only moments, but Annis felt it go on for what seemed like ages. She was crying now, though in truth more in nervousness for what was coming next. Were they going to burn her clit? She didn’t believe so, but such did happen. In her anxiety, she almost didn’t hear Kata’s next question in the service. ‘You have accepted the pain of sacrifice, Annis. Do you accept the pleasure?’

Annis nodded her head, clenching her teeth. The vibrator again, and the touch of Kata’s mouth on her breast. Her nerves were so stimulated that she started to shake. Was it just moments ago that she would have given anything to have this woman touch her and now she just wanted it to stop. And yet, oh Christ, she was about to come! Yes, she was almost–

The pleasure stopped as quickly as it had started, again leaving only the thrum in chest of both pleasure and pain. Annis opened her eyes just a fraction. She couldn’t see the burns of course, but she saw her swollen nipples, distended by the torrent of pain and pleasure.

Before she rose this time, Kata leaned over and whispered in Annis’ ear while softly stroking her stomach, ‘Just one more. Good girl.’ Annis realized that she hadn’t looked the woman in the face, that she had indeed kept her eyes guarded or shut. She hadn’t intentionally done so, but it was easier to put this woman in the same category as Etan (not Bryndis, she thought fiercely), than it was to see her as a friend. Her feelings about Kata were far too complex.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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It was Friday and had been a very long week for Krista. Krista is a teacher and works with kids and other teachers. This week was particularly hectic with classes, training other teachers, and many meetings. So many things going on that she was unable to make her daily workouts or even attend to herself. She was looking forward to the weekend and being able to forget about work. Of course the weekend wasn’t going to be a do nothing weekend. Every weekend Krista went to a secluded home outside the city. At this home Krista got to explore a side of her that no one at work ever saw, her submissive side. All day long she was telling others what to do and being a sub gave her the chance to reverse that and trust someone else to know what’s best for her.

She was looking at the clock waiting for the final bell to ring. She knew that when she arrived at her destination that there was going to be some punishment because she had not met all he obligations to her master.

The first was to pleasure herself once per day and it had to be done in a specific manner. She had to bring herself to the brink or orgasm then stop for a few minutes. During the break she had to pleasure her ass with a toy. Her ass needed to be trained to be available whenever her master desired. Then she was to bring herself to the brink of orgasm and take another break. During the break she had to continue training her ass. The third time she focused on her pussy then she was permitted to orgasm. She could pleasure herself more than once per day, but always had to get permission from her master first. She requested permission often, but not this week.

The bell rang and the students filed out. As the last one left Krista let out a sigh of relief. She made sure everyone was out and no one was hanging around she closed the door and headed back to the desk. She didn’t sit all the way down. She took one last look around then hiked up her skirt and slid her panties down her legs. She noticed they were soaked thanks to her desire for the weekend to begin. She stepped out of them and quickly put them in her purse. Her master required that she wore no panties when travelling to and from his home.

Krista tidied the desk and left the class room to head to her SUV. When she climbed into the driver’s seat the skirt rode up a little and she was a little surprised at the coolness of the leather seat as the back of her thighs touched it and she settled into the seat. She buckled in and started the vehicle as she headed toward her master’s home. While she was driving she kept her right hand on the gear shift and to her it felt like the head of her master’s cock that she so loved to please.

The drive was uneventful and took about thirty minutes. Krista parked her SUV in the garage. She entered the home through the mudroom into a huge kitchen. She passed through the kitchen to an adjoining room, her changing room. Once in the room she began to remove her clothing and hang her clothes neatly in the closet. She set her bag and purse on the floor in the closet as she wouldn’t need them till she left early Monday morning. She closed the closet and from the table next to it grabbed her collar and put it on. When she finished she looked at herself in the mirror and realized she had broken another rule. She noticed the stubble of pubic hair on her pussy. Her master required that her legs, arm pits, pussy, and ass be shaved clean at all times. Krista hoped he wouldn’t notice and she could take care of it when she showered that night.

Krista left the room and headed down the hall to the foyer. In the foyer she headed up the stairs to the second floor. Right near the top of the stairs was her destination. She opened the door stepped in and then closed the door. She saw her master was sitting in his chair and she quickly moved to kneel before him. alibeyköy escort When she kneeled she placed her hands behind her back as was required.

Several moments went by. He finally looked at her and said, “Krista, you have violated the rules I’ve given you. I will have to punish you.” She wondered how he knew. “You didn’t pleasure yourself at least once each day. That is vital to you learning control. This means that your ass may not be ready for me when I want it, if I want it. That means it could be painful for you. I don’t want to hurt you, but perhaps that is the way you will learn.”

Krista wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew better than to question it. “Stand up and bend over!” He demanded. Krista quickly got to her feet and bent over so her torso was parallel to the ground. He stepped around behind her. He admired her ass for a moment then he cupped his hand. Using his hand he gave Krista six hard and fast whacks on each cheek of her bottom. Her ass became a bright red and the sting was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Stand up and spread your feet apart.” was his next order. As he stepped in front of her Krista’s heart sunk as she was sure he would notice the stubble. He moved in close so his face was in front of hers. She didn’t notice his arm move, but she felt his fingers on her mound. Then the look in his eyes told her he noticed. How could he not. “Krista, you have broken another rule. Am I working with a five year old?” She knew better than to respond.

As he moved behind her again she bent over because she knew what was coming. Quickly she received another six whacks on each cheek. Her ass was on fire now and tears were in her eyes. He stepped back in front of her and she stood up again. He stood back further and looked her in the eyes. Without warning he used his right hand to slap her left tit twice, once with the forehand and once with the backhand. Then using his left hand he did the same with the right tit. It stung but her nipples betrayed and became instantly hard. He grabbed each nipple with his fingers and pinched them several times. It hurt, but it was exciting her as her pussy was starting to leak her juices.

Then he stepped away and grabbed something from the chair. It was a leash and he fastened it to her collar. “We have things to take care of.” he said. He pulled on the leash and guided her into the hall. They went down to the third room and entered. Inside was a table in the middle. It had some sort of straps at the corners. He said “Go lay on the table on your back.”

Krista did as she was told. Then her master walked to the end where her head was. He grabbed her and pulled her body toward him so her head would hang off. She noticed when he did this that her head was perfectly aligned with his groin and felt her pussy getting wet as she thought about sucking his cock. He moved to the corner by her left hand and used the straps to secure it to the table. He did the same with her other hand and with each foot. She lifted her head to look down between her breasts at him. She adored him and knew he was doing what was best for her.

She saw him reach below the table top and heard him fiddling with something. When he stood up he grabbed the table top with both hands between her feet. Then he slowly moved his hands apart and her legs were spreading. She felt the table disappearing from under her ass. She was completely vulnerable.

He moved back up to her head. She was hoping she could now please him by sucking his cock. “Lift your head. “, he said. She did and he draped a thick cloth over her eyes and tied it at the back of her head. When he was done she wasn’t sure what to do with her head. She couldn’t keep holding it up, nor could she let it hang down. She sefaköy escort would have to alternate positions for now.

She heard him snap his fingers, then a door opened, and someone walked in. The sound of the footsteps told Krista this other person had moved between her legs. This new person touched Krista’s feet very lightly with their fingernails. Krista just felt the nails, not the fingers. Could this be a woman? Then the nails started to glide up her legs ever so lightly. They inched closer to her pussy. When they arrived the fingers glided over her stubbly mound. The touch of the slender fingers and the faint smell of perfume confirmed it was a woman.

Krista felt a finger travel down her slit and when it reached the end it slid into her soaking pussy. Krista jumped from the intrusion, but tried to squeeze tight as the finger was pulled from her pussy.

“Mmmmmmmmmm.” said the woman as she pulled her finger from Krista and licked it clean. “Very tasty.”

“You can enjoy that later. Now I want her pussy clean.” said Krista’s master.

“Yes, sir.” said the woman.

Krista heard the woman move about and also the noise of running water. The woman gathered what she needed for shaving Krista’s crotch area. She had a bowl of water, shaving cream, a towel, safety razor, and some oil.

She scooped some water and held her hand above Krista’s pussy. The water dripped onto her mound. When her hand was empty she used her hand to massage the water in. Then she grabbed the shaving cream and dispensed some onto her fingers. Gently she covered Krista’s pussy and anus. The woman grabbed the razor and started shaving Krista, starting at the top. Slowly and methodically the woman removed every whisker from Krista. When she was finished she scooped up some water to rinse the remains of the cream away. She grabbed the towel and wiped the area clean and dry. Using some of the oil she massaged the area to sooth any burn from the razor. When she was done she stood up to admire her work.

Krista couldn’t see it, but her master directed the woman to push Krista’s feet further apart. As Krista’s feet move she felt her pussy opening up and her clit being exposed and her wetness couldn’t be contained. At this point Krista’s head was hanging down and she sensed her master straddling her head. Then she felt his testicles resting on her chin. She lifted her head and opened her mouth to take them in. She enjoyed having his balls in her mouth. Whack! Something struck her clit and it stung. Then again she felt it and several more times. It stung, but she dared not let those balls out of her mouth. She didn’t know for sure, but it felt like her master had spanked her clit with a riding crop.

Her master nodded to the other woman. The woman dropped to her knees in front of Krista’s pussy. Gently she kissed Krista’s thighs and alternated from side to side. She moved closer and soon was kissing the lips of Krista’s pussy. By now Krista was soaking wet inside. Starting at the bottom of her slit the woman started licking all the way up to the clit. When she got to the clit she sucked it into her mouth. Krista wanted to cum, but hadn’t been given permission. The woman kept doing this and brought Krista to the edge, then without warning the woman backed off. Her master backed off pulling his balls from her mouth.

The woman helped the master quickly untie Krista, roll her over and retie her to the table. Her legs were pushed further apart. Krista lifted her head and opened her mouth. She expected her master’s cock and she wasn’t disappointed. He stuck it in and started to push forward. Krista’s position allowed him to push all the way in and his cock went straight down her throat. He grabbed her head and slowly pushed in and out. Krista knew she halkalı escort was doing well.

Whack! Whack! Whack! The riding crop struck her ass each time the head of his cock reached the back of her throat. She lost count, but it stung and it excited her. She didn’t know if she should cry or scream out loud if she didn’t have a cock filling her mouth.

Her master nodded again and the woman poured some lube on Krista’s exposed anus. It was cold at first, but Krista felt it quickly heating up. She didn’t have time to enjoy it as she felt the woman stick a finger all the way in her ass. This had her head spinning. Soon there were three fingers pumping her ass and her master’s cock all the way down her throat. Her master grabbed her head tighter and thrust his cock in her mouth and held it there. Then she felt his hot cum shooting down her throat. He wasn’t pulling out, but she felt the fingers slipped out of her ass. She felt the cock softening and then slowly being withdrawn. As it finally slipped out she swallowed whatever cum was left in her mouth.

While she was savoring the cum of her master the woman was strapping on a dildo. The next thing Krista knew the woman was pushing that dildo deep into her pussy. Krista’s neck was tired so she hung her head down. She could see down the length of the table and watched the woman thrusting into her. The woman started playing with Krista’s clit. In no time at all Krista was at the brink of an orgasm. She desperately wanted to cum. She knew her master wouldn’t permit it. The woman was keeping her on the edge and then she felt the sting of the riding crop several more times on her ass. She couldn’t see it but she imagined the red marks on her ass looked like a bunch of bombs had gone off in a field.

Then the thrusting stopped and the dildo was pulled out of her pussy. Her master presented her cock to her again. Krista knew her task was to make him hard again. She started by licking the head. His cock responded quickly. Then she licked the shaft as he grew harder. She returned to the head and sucked him into her mouth.

Krista had a rhythm going when she felt the head of the dildo pushing against her anus. Her ass offered little resistance as it slid in. Soon she was feeling full. It almost felt as though the dildo was in her stomach. When her master was at full hardness he pulled out of her mouth. She heard what sounded like something being unbuckled while the dildo was all the way in her ass moving around. She realized the woman stepped out of the harness. Her master moved behind her and in one smooth motion thrust his cock into her pussy. While he was fucking her pussy the woman moved under her and was started licking and sucking her clit. Krista nearly had an orgasm.

After a few minutes her master’s cock was being pulled from her pussy and the dildo was being pulled from her ass. The mouth was still on her clit. She was being held on the edge. Then she felt the head of her master’s cock pushing into her ass. It was wider than the dildo and hurt. Quickly the pain went away and Krista never felt so full. Her master was fucking her ass deeply. The woman was eating her pussy. If that wasn’t enough to keep her head spinning every once in a while her master would spank her.

After what seemed forever Krista felt like she was going to explode. She tried to squeeze her master’s cock harder with her ass. He felt it. “Krista I want you to cum NOW!” With that command Krista felt the built up pressure release and let go of an orgasm like she had never felt before. Then she felt her master’s cum deep in her bowels and another wave of orgasms began. Her body started spasming and the woman sucking her clit clung to it.

After Krista had recovered from the orgasms and her master pulled out of her the woman got out from underneath her. The woman helped untie Krista then she left the room. Krista’s master removed the blindfold and helped Krista to her feet. He took her by her leash and led her to her bedroom where he tucked her into bed. He kissed her on the forehead.

“Krista there is more to learn tomorrow.” he said and left the room. Krista was asleep before the door closed.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I am kneeling at the foot of the stairs when You come home, naked, hands behind my back, waiting for You. I wait, head down, for You to acknowledge me. You look around the house, spotlessly clean, and test the air with your sensitive nose. You can smell the dinner in the kitchen, the aroma of baking from earlier, and a sweet raspberry fragrance, Your favorite scent, rising from me.

Finally, I feel the touch of Your strong hand on my head and Your voice whispers “Good girl.” I smile but still do lift my head until I see Your briefcase and coat held in front of me. “Thank you, Master, ” I say and slowly stand to carry both objects to the nearby closet, where the coat is hung and the briefcase stashed before I softly close the door and return to my former position on the floor, kneeling, head down, hands demurely behind me. “What is your pleasure, Master?” My eyes follow the crease in Your trousers to your knees, where my vision lingers.

“When is dinner ready, My pet?”

My pet! You really are happy with me today! “One hour, Master.”

“Perfect,” You say and gently place one hand on my head. There is a moment of absolute quiet while You look around, quietly contemplating my days’ accomplishments. The hand on my head moves slowly in my hair and I can feel myself growing wet at Your affection.

Suddenly, Your hand twines in my hair, wrapping itself tightly and You use this leverage to bring me up from the relaxed posture I had taken. A gasp escapes from my lips.

“Were you seeking a reward, pet?” You ask softly, menacingly.

“No Master, I seek only to please You.”

“Good girl,” You say, and Your hand tightens even more. “Do you think you deserve a reward, pet?”

“No Master. My reward is making You happy.” The pain is exciting me, as You knew it would, and I can feel the wetness dripping down my open thighs.

Your voice drops a little and I hear a tiny growl. Your hand releases my hair and strokes the side of my neck. Such tenderness. My need grows worse, but I do not so much as whimper. “Do you know what day it is, Beth?” I gasp and nearly look up. You have only used that name once since I was collared. And then it was out of anger.

“Yes Master.” I am near tears. I had feared You had forgotten.

“Well, Beth?” Again, my name, said so sweetly that I nearly cry. My voice wavers as I reply.

“It is the anniversary of my collaring, Master.”

“Good girl.” Your hand slides under my chin and You tilt my head up, although I slide my eyes away. “Look at me, Beth,” You growl and my eyes meet Yours for the first time in months.

“As you said, Beth, it is the one year anniversary of your collaring.” The hand not holding my chin slides down to the edge of my leather collar, removed only once weekly during the past year to go to the grocery store. “And tonight,” You say, looking deep into my eyes, “I consider this part of your training complete. Tonight,” Your hand tilts my head down and I can feel Your hand at the back of my neck, undoing the collar. “I would like you to walk as My equal.” I am staring my collar in Your hand, my neck feeling so very vulnerable, and I simply cannot believe what I just heard. I kneel before You in stupefied silence, and it becomes even more profound as your precious face appears before me. You are kneeling! I open my mouth to protest and You place a single finger over my lips to shush me, just as you did when I was first collared. “I said, this part of your training. You know your role. You are an excellent pet.” Your hand drops from my lips to my hand. “But being a pet is not all you are worth. It is time you learned to be something… more.” You smile and kiss my hand. Slowly, You stand, my hand still in Your grasp.

“Now, Beth, as you Master, I say, stand and look me in the eye. Allow me to hold you as an equal.” You help me up by my hand, and I stand on shaking legs, still reluctant to raise my face to You.

You laugh softly and lean over to kiss me. Your lips meet mine and I am so terrified of doing something wrong, of displeasing You, that I can barely kiss You back. Unperturbed, you pull my trembling body close to Yours and wrap my arms around Your waist, kissing me deeper as I slowly start to respond. I can feel salty tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Shh, my sweet,” You whisper into my neck, and I can feel Your breath on the skin where the collar was. If I turn my head a little, I can see that discarded strip of leather on the ground. “Shh. I never said that part of our relationship was over. Things will still be the same, when we want them to be. But I have known you for a year as a pet and a slave. I want to know you now as a woman.”

You step back and look at me. “And this will never do,” You say, and proceed to pull me up the stairs, to Your bedroom. I have to hold tight to Your hand and the railing for fear my legs will collapse. Gently, You sit me on the edge of the bed nearest the door, and sit next to me. esenler escort “Are you ready for a surprise?” You ask, kissing the side of my neck again.

My eyes widen. Another surprise? As if the last half an hour hadn’t held more than it’s share. Standing, You move to Your dresser and open the top drawer. You withdraw a green silk bra and a matching pair of panties, then move onto the next drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans and a lovely green sweater. Clothes? I break into fresh tears and throw myself at Your feet. “Master,” my voice is anguished, hot tears pouring down my face, “Doesn’t my body please You any more?” I have only worn clothes once a week in the past year, on those same hateful days I had to remove my collar and go out to the store.

You laugh again and lean over to pick me up, standing me on my own two feet and once more stroking my face softly. Your other hand gently follows the curves of my body, relishing the smell and feel of me. “First,” You say, “It is no longer Master unless I give the signal. Second,” You tweak one of my already-erect nipples, “your body please Me very much, always has and always will. But you are mine, and I want to take you places. You need clothes for that, because I do not want other men’s eyes on this lovely skin.” One of Your hands grabs the panties off the dresser and dangles them in front of my face. “Consider them another form of collaring, if it makes it easier. Consider these clothes I bought you to be My mark and wear them with pride, as you did My collar.”

You kneel before me and lift each of my feet into the legs of the panties, pulling them slowly up over my soft skin to my thighs. The silk feels strange between my legs, sliding up softly against my dripping cunt. Your hand follows them up to snug them against me, Your fingers lingering teasingly and then moving on to arrange the panties on my hips. You step back to admire Your handiwork and I stand there in a state of high tension. Not only am I terrified, I am conflicted between my need to throw myself at Your feet and beg for sex and my suddenly powerful urge to walk up to You as an equal, kiss You, as an equal, and take You to bed. As an equal.

But instead of giving me the time to do any of these things, You grab the bra off the dresser and come forward, lifting each of my arms into the straps and pushing the cups up tight against my breasts as You snap the bra in front. You smile serenely at me and kiss me again. “You’re going to have to learn to do all this for yourself again, you know.” I just nod my head dumbly. All these accoutrements used to feel right at home on me. Now they feel tighter and more restraining than I could ever imagine the collar or bonds feeling. You adjust the straps over my shoulders, smiling slyly at me. “You are so beautiful. So, so very beautiful, and so Mine.”

Next come the jeans, stiff fabric jarring the sensitized skin of my legs. They fit perfectly. How could You have known? But then, of course, no one knows my body like You do. You dress me like a doll, carefully and meticulously. You slide the sweater over my head and smooth it to my body, undoing a top button, so some of the cleavage shows. Then, You lead me back to the bed and set me down. Going to the bathroom, You produce a brush and move over to sit behind me on the bed, pulling me close and whispering to me about love and lust and all the stages in between while You gently brush my hair. Finally, You stand and produce a new pair of expensive flats, which You slip onto my feet. I am fully dressed for the first time in a year. Even those times at the supermarket I only wore a slip over dress and pair of cheap shoes. No bra, no panties. I feel out of place in these things. But I want so much to please You, even if this is only a whim, I will go along.

I still feel the need to serve and I know that dinner must be almost done, so I request Your permission to go downstairs. I step away from the edge of the bed and move down the hall, the fabric rubbing my skin warmly, chafing softly So strange to walk down these halls, not crawl, to stand upright and wear clothes. In the downstairs and when I am cleaning up here, I can stand. When called for. But now I am standing, walking and You are following me, watching my ass sway in the new jeans, the way the sweater clings to my skin. I step uncertainly down the stairs, certain the shoes will make me fall, flat as they are. But somehow I make it down and into the kitchen, where my pot roast is perfection and the table is already set.

You let me putter around the kitchen, knowing this servile task will calm my nerves, watching me move in the unfamiliar clothes. Your eyes seem more glued to me now then when I had been naked. I keep catching Your eye and turning before You can see the smile on my face. I walk over to the table with Your plate, setting it carefully down in front of You as I have always done. “Your dinner Mas-” florya escort I catch myself, and catch a look from You. It is a pleading look not like the stern ones that meant I was going to get it if I didn’t obey, I was going to be punished. This is a look of need, from You, my Master! I do not know how to deal with this. Frankly, it frightens me more than the anger.

I settle down to my customary place at Your feet with my plate and feel a small tug at my hair. I look up. “Beth,” You give me the stern look. “Up to the table, please.” I blush and stand up. I was so used to settling on the floor at Your feet, I did not even realize that I belong at the table now. There are going to be so many things to get used to again. I sit across from You and You smile at me over Your plate, Your glass of Chablis. You actually look proud of me.

Peering nervously down into my plate, I hope the food will just go away, because I am too nervous to eat. I see a hand in my peripheral vision, Your hand, held out to me. Placing my own in it, I look nervously up at Your face. Your eyes soothe me, and Your voice comes out in a low rumble. “Beth, I know you cannot possibly understand what all this is about right now. Give it time, it will sink in. But for now, just understand that by finding yourself again, you are pleasing Me. That is what you want, is it not?”

I smile shyly and whisper “yes, M-” and catch myself once again. The tears return. “I’m sorry, Master I just cannot bring myself to call You by the familiar name.” I pull my hands away from Your s and bring them up to cover my face. I cannot look at You. Your hand touches the back of my head in the old signal of affection, and my sobbing subsides, although I still cannot move my hands from my face. Strong fingers wrap around my wrists and my hands are pulled from my face, pinned in my lap, and Your hand locks onto the back of my hair. You force my eyes to meet Yours.

“Beth, you are Mine, and will always be Mine. Understand that.” I try to smile through my tears. “However, now I want a woman, not a slave. You were very strong willed when you came to Me. I want you to find that strength again. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Me. Can you do that?”

” I can try.”

A soft smile blesses me. “Good. Now, I want you to look at Me and say My name.”

The hand in the back of my hair tightens, and I know I must obey, so even though this feels so much like disobedience, I look into Your eyes and say in the clearest, strongest voice I can muster, “yes, William.” A beatific smile breaks across Your face and You release my hair and lean down to kiss me. Then You move back around to Your side of the table. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it Beth?” You smile across the table at me again and set about finishing Your pot-roast. I sit and stare at You, at my plate, at the world from this different perspective of above the table.

My mind is spinning. Does this mean freedom? Does this mean no more punishments for having my own opinion, my own wants? Does this mean that it is time for me to get to know the man across from me as another human being and not some god-like creature? You are so handsome in the candlelight, sipping Chablis, glancing up occasionally and smiling benignly. I want this. I want to be able to look into Your eyes whenever I feel the need. I want to be able to tell You whenever I feel the need how much I adore You. Does this mean that after all my work is done I can be sitting on the couch, reading a book when You get home? I have missed that so much. Is this really what You want? Is this really what I need to do to make You happy?

Finally, I cannot take it anymore. I stand and walk around to Your side of the table, gently place my hands on Your shoulders. One of Your hands comes up to cover mine and I lean over to whisper in your ear “Thank you, William.”

“For what, Beth?”

“For loving me. This is the best reward any Master could ever give.”

You turn in your chair to peer into my eyes. “It is the reward you deserve, Beth. And it is not only reward for you. It is reward for Me as well. For teaching you so well. I want someone I take out and show off. I want someone who is elegant and beautiful, and who I can bring home and do as I wish with.” I feel a tingle in my pussy at this last. “I want someone I can talk to. I know you are intelligent. I would never have collared you otherwise, and it drove Me crazy to suppress that for the last year. But you needed to learn. You still need to learn, and you will.” Your hand tightens on mine. “But I want to be able to talk to you afterwards. During. I want to be able to take you out and sit at a nice dinner and not have you afraid that you will do something to merit punishment when we return home.” My hand is brought up to Your lips and You kiss the palm tenderly. A thrill races through me. “There will still be plenty of punishments, I assure kayaşehir escort you, because we both enjoy them so much. ” You turn to take one more sip of Your wine and then stand to face me. “But now you will have a say in our lives.” You step closer and Your hands slide up under the back of my sweater, pulling me to You.

“Now,” You say, looking deeply into my eyes. “Do you think you can handle being my lover as well as my pet?”

I smile and lean into You, nuzzling Your neck. “Yes, William.” The name falls more naturally from my lips now. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” You run Your hands a little farther up my back, to the bottom of the bra. Your hands slide under it, pressing closer into my skin. “Now that I have you fully dressed, how would you feel about getting naked again?” I lift my head off Your shoulder and smile at You, moving my hands from Your waist and grabbing the hem of my sweater, looking at You questioningly. You nod, Your eyes sparkling a little, more than happy to watch me do a strip tease, removing the clothing You had so carefully placed on my body. As step away from you and pull the sweater up over my head, I realize something wonderful. I can tease again. I can do as I wish to excite You.

I do some of the moves I remembered from long ago, the bellydancer moves which had attracted You to me in the first place. The dance of the Seven Veils reenacted using a sweater and bra. You grin as Your eyes follow my lithe figure around the room. I strip from the waist up, the bra and sweater carefully placed over the back of a chair. I move up to You, smiling a sweet, beguiling smile, and lean over to kiss Your neck, placing my hands on Your chest. Dancing around You, I run my hands over Your body freely, my nails catching lightly on the cloth of Your shirt, until I am behind You, pulling You into my half naked body and wrapping my arms around You. Carefully, slowly, I begin to undo Your shirt, button after button popping free. I run my hand over the coarse hairs on Your chest, feeling so empowered. Your hand comes up and covers one of mine, dragging it down to the top of Your belt. I kiss my way around Your front, kneeling in front of You, one hand still on the buckle of Your belt. I undo it as You had undone my collar earlier. Pulling it free from the loops, I drape it over my neck, reluctant to let anything of Yours touch the floor. Then I lean over and carefully bite the top flap of your pants, pulling it out and away from Your body, causing that one last button to slip free and the zipper slides easily down. Your hands are playing in my hair, the movement of my hair and my body causing the stiff leather to rub against my chest, my nipples growing harder at the touch. My hands move up and grasp your trousers and the tops of your boxers, maneuvering both items of clothing out over your tremendously stiff cock and down your body, where they puddle around your shoes.

I bend a little farther and place kisses on your calves as I untie first one shoe, then the next, removing them and your socks, your pants and your boxers. Then You are standing naked before me, naked from the waist down, I naked from the waist up, the leather of the belt still drawing lines over my breasts, catching on the rings and stiffening my nipples as I lean over and flick my pierced tongue over the head of your cock. My arms trail up to your stomach as I pull you deep into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat. Then I feel you reach down and grab the belt, removing it from my neck and sliding it down under both my arms. The leather cuts into my skin as You force me to crawl forward on my knees, Your hot cock still buried deep in my throat. You sit in the chair nearest Your glass of wine and pull the belt from under my arms, doubling it up in Your hand. Placing this same hand lightly on my head, You gently remind me that you still have control. I can feel the leather rubbing over my shoulders, Your hand playing with strands of my hair as You quietly sit and sip Your Chablis, watching my head move up and down on You, my body shudder.

I hear the glass chime on the table and see Your hand reach down toward my breasts. The first tug is gentle. They get successively harder until my whole body is shaking and I am swallowing convulsively against the head of Your cock. It grows stiffer in my mouth and begins to twitch. I pull back, gasping as my mouth is freed and You give a final tug to the ring. Then Your hand comes up and twines in my hair, the other one holding the belt bringing the leather down in a single hard strike to my jean-clad ass. I moan aloud as You clench my hair in Your fist, pulling my face up to Yours for a long, hard, deep kiss.

Your mouth draws back from mine, Your hand releases my hair and You stare deep into my eyes. “Stand,” You growl, “and strip for me.” Smiling, I stand and turn my back to you, undoing the jeans and bending over at the waist to remove first the pants, then the panties. A growl emanates from You. “You little tease,” I hear You murmur and I feel You grab my hips and pull me back to You. Roughly turning me, You open Your legs and pull me between them, so my breasts are right before Your face. “Do you like to tease, Beth?” That same growl that always sends shivers through me and makes me want to cum, just hearing it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author note: this chapter is an edited version of part of my Literotica story ‘La Contessa’s Slave Girl’.

Warning: this chapter contains non-consensual scenes

Chapter 13: Revenge

The week passes. It’s not long before I’m waiting for La Contessa underneath the portico at the entrance to her palace, the imposing marble staircase fanning out before me towards the canal side. Becky is by my side having been bathed and dressed by Julia and the maids. She’s wearing a crisp, white, cotton bodice, laced tightly, her fulsome breasts lifted up to display them in their soft, milky magnificence. I gaze at her breasts swelling with every breath she takes. Her skirt is decorated with a bright, rustic, floral pattern. Her lips have been painted a subtle pink, and her cheeks with the merest touch of rouge to set off her pale skin. The knots have been combed out of her fair hair, which tumbles in waves over her shoulders, and she smells fragrant. I see La Contessa’s vision for Becky; she’s been re-cast as a fresh and innocent peasant girl dressed in her finest clothes for a special occasion.

I have to say she looks lovely now she’s been cleaned up and her wounds tended. At the sight of her, I have to control the swelling in my cock. I’d better be careful on two accounts; I daren’t let La Contessa see any traces of an erection or I’ll be in for a severe punishment. I also see Julia noting the looks I cast towards the new slave girl. She’s looks askance at me with a fiercely quizzical gaze.

Becky looks calm and serene now, but I wonder if she knows what she’s let herself in for. I have experience of La Contessa’s wicked imagination and know the ordeal she’ll devise for the night will be challenging.

There’s a bustle of activity behind me as La Contessa, with a coterie of attendants, sweeps through the grand, marbled entrance hall of her palace. As always she looks stunning. She’s wearing a low-cut, silk gown in bright scarlet with matching silk gloves. Over her shoulders is a huge hooded cloak, also in scarlet. Her hair is combed long and loose tonight. She wears a magnificent pair of knee length boots in soft Italian leather with silver buckles, white silk laces, and long stiletto heels capped with pure silver. They are a vivid reminder of my boot worship. She wears a simple moretta mask in black.

She glances across at Becky, and her red lips curl into a smile of satisfaction. One of the attendants puts a black cape over Becky’s shoulders to keep her warm from the chill of the crisp autumn night, and then a moretta in white over her eyes.

“You look lovely my dear. You smell like an English rose, fresh and innocent, but ready to be picked,” she adds ominously. “You know you must surrender completely and give in to the path I have laid out for you. I trust you are ready for your trial. Are you nervous girl?”

“Yes, madam, but I’m willing to submit to you.”

“Good, that is how it should be. Now we must go.”

La Contessa puts an arm through Becky’s, and they descend the staircase together to the waiting gondola moored at the foot of the grand entrance to the palazzo. It’s my task to transport them to La Contessa’s secret destination. Her gondola of black lacquered wood with fittings of solid gold is a magnificent vessel as befitting her wealth and status. La Contessa takes up her position on silk cushions under the ornate gilded felce, the small gazebo structure in the centre of the gondola. It is fitted with curtains of red and gold damask, tied back so La Contessa can be admired. Night has descended, and the gondola is lit with lanterns hung from the felce which illuminate La Contessa. Becky sits opposite her, whilst I take up the oar at the stern of the boat. I push the flat bottomed vessel gracefully into the Grand Canal.

After we’ve been rowing for a few minutes, and whilst in full view of the crowds lining the canal, La Contessa gestures for Becky to come forward. She seductively parts her scarlet cloak to reveal her leather boots. No words are exchanged between them. Becky knows instinctively what she has to do. She gets onto her knees before La Contessa and licks her boots. She runs her tongue across the sole of the boot and then takes the silver tipped heel into her mouth and sucks. She kisses the toe of the boot, then runs her lips up its length cleaning the silver eyelets with delicate flicks of her tongue. I see everything whilst steering the gondola and feel a twinge of jealousy; how I wish it was me at La Contessa’s feet.

This is the city of my birth, and I still marvel at its splendour. It’s never more beautiful than at night time when the candlelight from the magnificent palaces lining the Grand Canal reflect on the water so ripples of light appear to dance on its surface. The Venetians are out in great numbers in their finery. I hear the bustle of street traders around Ponte Rialto and the mouth-watering smells of food vendors plying their trade. This is my city and I love it. I love that I serve La Contessa and am honoured she has chosen me bayrampaşa escort to carry her along the canals of Venice on this special task. In my heart, I believe the girl will not let her down. The gondola glides under Ponte di Sospiri, and soon after La Contessa gives orders to turn the gondola into the network of narrow canals in the Sestiere di Santa Croce. It’s nine o’clock at night and the bells from the hundreds of churches of Venice peal in unison across the city. I sense the bells are tolling for the sinister fate awaiting the girl.

The lanes in this part are less well-lit and the buildings close darkly in on the narrow canals. This is another aspect of Venice I love; its narrow canals and winding lanes, places where you get lost, places with dark secrets. We glide through just such an area, the atmosphere dark and oppressive, the buildings looming over us. La Contessa directs me to turn left pointing for me to navigate the gondola towards a small landing stage. I notice a sign by the side of the iron gates above the stone steps. ‘Palazzo di Sadismo’ it reads, and I know we have reached our destination.

I reach out my hand and help La Contessa up from her reclining position on the cushions of the gondola. She leads the way up a short flight of steps with Becky following her, and me at the rear. I see the tension in Becky’s body as she climbs the steps to meet her fate. It’s a sensation I know only too well from those occasions of being summoned into La Contessa’s presence; a tingling fear of the unknown mixed with excitement and anticipation. I wonder if she sees the inscription on the building and understands its meaning.

There’s an iron grille at the top of the steps and within it an unlocked gate which La Contessa pushes open, its hinges creaking ominously. We enter a vast stone room with a vaulted ceiling, formerly a wine cellar or store room, but now used for more sinister purposes. La Contessa is an exacting mistress and expects everything to be perfect; she’s no doubt sent forward instructions as to how she wants the room set out, as it’s already been prepared for her.

In the centre of the chamber are four huge, wrought-iron candlesticks arranged on the floor in a square, two either side of a wooden frame fixed to the floor. By its side is a large wooden chest. The glowing church candles cast a gloomy and atmospheric glow over the vaulted chamber; its flickering light casting shadows across the stone ceiling. The light does not penetrate the corners of the stone room but, as my eyes adjust to the dimness, I see the hazy outline of other pieces of metal furniture. It is equipment designed for torture, I’m sure, recovered from the chambers of Venice’s mediaeval past. I’m reminded that Venice has not always been the liberated city state of this enlightened century. The outline of the equipment is indistinct in the gloom though it’s obvious the room has been set out as a place of torture.

I see the girl is spellbound as an awed hush permeates the room. The only sound is the click of La Contessa’s heels on the stone floor as they echo menacingly around the chamber. The vaulted ceiling is supported by a row of pillars and, on the pillar directly opposite the wooden frame, a fat bearded man is tied. It comes as no surprise to find the Syrian merchant there. La Contessa used me as intermediary with the procurator of the Sestiere di Cannaregio to arrange his arrest, and subsequent transfer into La Contessa’s hands. Her power and influence in the city is great and, with the offer of a small gift and the promise of an invitation to one of her famous balls to partake of their perverted pleasures, he was easily persuaded to do her bidding.

The Syrian has been skilfully tied. His whole body is covered in a criss-cross pattern of black ropes, an elaborate arrangement of knots pulled so tightly I can see the rope burn marks on his wrists and ankles from his struggling. He’s gagged with a ball gag made of a wooden ball covered in leather and secured with leather straps. On La Contessa’s arrival he struggles to shout abuse at her but only a muffled noise comes out. If this isn’t the work of La Contessa, who I know is an expert at rope bondage, it’s of a skilled practitioner of the art.

Becky looks fearful at the presence of the Syrian merchant.

“Yes, I have arranged for your tormentor to be here,” announces La Contessa, “do you trust your new mistress, girl?”

Becky stands quietly and obediently, her arms behind her back, her breaths short and shallow. She relaxes her body, which bristled with tension on seeing her abuser, and gives an affirmative nod.

La Contessa turns to me and says, “Servant, you will not be required to join in the events of the night, but I do want you to observe. And I don’t expect to see you getting aroused at any of the sights. You are here to witness only, do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress,” I reply.

La Contessa’s painted fingernails pull gently on the cords of Becky’s bodice, loosening fulya escort the laces until, with one tug, the bodice parts, and the girl’s beautiful breasts bounce free. La Contessa runs a finger gently across the soft curve of her flesh and around her pert nipples, which stand erect. Becky expels a gasp of pleasure. She pulls the bodice off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. The tension of the moment is palpable; I witness the subtle interplay between the dominant mistress and her offering, her submissive girl. La Contessa squeezes her finger underneath the waist band of Becky’s skirt, and runs it gently along her midriff, brushing the soft hairs over her sex before finding the hook holding up the skirt. As La Contessa releases it, the skirt slips over Becky’s hips and drops to the floor. On La Contessa’s instruction no doubt, the girl is not wearing any underwear. Becky quietly steps out of the skirt from around her ankles and kicks off her shoes. La Contessa brushes her pubic hairs with the back of her hand and Becky’s body responds with a ripple of pleasure.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” La Contessa asks.

“Yes, mistress, she’s lovely.”

Indeed she’s exceedingly lovely. Julia and the maids have carried out a remarkable transformation from when she was first brought to the palazzo. The welt marks on her backside, the sores on her ankles and wrists from the shackles, and the cuts and bruises on her face and breasts have healed. Her pale skin glows in the candlelight, and she is fragrant with the smell of the rose water from her bath.

La Contessa manoeuvres Becky into position. The girl quietly complies with every touch and unspoken command as my mistress raises each arm in turn and ties her wrists onto hooks on the wooden frame with black rope. She spreads her legs and pulls her ankles, which are also tied to the wooden frame. Becky is rendered helpless, and completely in La Contessa’s control.

La Contessa goes back to the wooden chest and pulls something out. She walks back to the Syrian merchant, the clicking of the silver heels on the stone floor gaining in menace with each step. She dangles metal objects before the merchant’s eyes. Although they’re a type of clamp, I’ve never seen such a design before. She stares into the merchant’s eyes, a powerful feminine presence. The gentle swelling of her breasts above the scarlet, silk gown and the aroma of her scent conspire to overwhelm him into submission. La Contessa’s voice is low and full of menace.

“These are my newest toy. I know a trader of silks from China who, being aware of my special predilections, told me of these, and I asked him to bring them back for me. Ah, the Orient,” she sighs wistfully, “now, there’s a place where they know about torture. Perhaps one day I shall travel there and refine my art. But, in the meantime, I have these. They’re called clover clamps and they are ingenious little things. When they close on your nipples they hurt but they tighten with every touch so that when a cord is attached to them, all I have to do is flick it,” and she demonstrates by pinging the thin rope with her finger nail, “and it will increase the pain. So, what do you think?”

She’s playing with him and relishing every moment of it. She’s in her element, teasing with cruel words and suggestions. The look on the merchant’s face is one of sheer terror, but all he can do is grunt into his gag. La Contessa squeezes one end of the metal clamp and the other opens. She stares into his eyes as she holds the metal object directly in front of him before releasing it onto his nipple. There’s a grunt of agonised pain through the gag. She does the same to his other nipple. La Contessa deftly ties pieces of thin cord to the ends of the clamps and steps back to her new slave girl.

She faces the girl and wordlessly opens the clamp and holds it in front of her. From the shadows in the stone room, I watch Becky’s reaction intently. She stares at the sinister metal object, transfixed. With her other hand, La Contessa plays with her nipple, stroking it, digging her nails in, squeezing, and twisting. Finally, she reaches out to release the clamp on the girl’s nipple. I notice Becky’s body tense, and her lips expel a gasp of air at the moment the clamp tightens on her nipple. After the initial shock, her body melds into the pain. I watch, enthralled. I know these clamps to be severe instruments, capable of inflicting exquisite levels of pain yet the girl has taken them unquestioningly. I know La Contessa will be pleased with her. She repeats the process with a second clamp on Becky’s other nipple.

She takes the cord in her hand and jerks it hard making the merchant squirm in pain before tying it to the clamps attached to Becky. La Contessa laughs. I too, from my place in the shadows, smile at this ingenious piece of invention. The cord is taut between the slave girl and her former tormentor. La Contessa pulls the cord, lightly at first, and the clamps close tightly on the two sets of nipples. She yenibosna escort jerks the cord hard. The merchant lets out a muffled scream into his gag. Becky is silent, her eyes glazed into the effort of embracing the pain.

La Contessa turns to the merchant, “Do you see how the girl is stronger than you? She takes the pain without whimpering.”

She takes out a whip with leather thongs from the chest and begins to strike the merchant’s cock and balls with harsh strokes. His body pulls and twitches from within its rope restraints, which only causes the clamps to dig more tightly sending a ripple along the taut cord which tugs on the girl’s nipples. La Contessa laughs wickedly at their predicament.

“Don’t you see how you are two slaves joined in pain, and punishment. Each movement you make will cause the other to suffer.”

This time she whips the merchant on the nipples, directly on the clamps, and once again he lets out muffled screams of pain. La Contessa turns to Becky and whips her right across her cunt. Her body jerks in reaction to the stroke. But Becky appreciates the game. She knows every movement of her body will send a ripple along the taut cord and inflict pain on the merchant. She knows her resilience is greater than his, and through her pain she can make the merchant suffer more. With each flail of the whip she jiggles her voluptuous breasts and sends a surge of pain through the cord. La Contessa finds this hilarious. She laughs wickedly as she continues the play, alternately whipping one of them or pulling on the tight cord to inflict the greatest torment. It’s the Syrian merchant who suffers most.

“I could do this all evening,” she smiles, “but there are many more torments I need to administer before the night is out. Servant, you can untie him now.”

She pulls the nipple clamps off the girl first, and then off the merchant, but cannot resist the temptation of one final tweak with her fingernails. I do as La Contessa commands, unravelling the complex arrangement of knots. My youthful and muscular physique would always have been too much for the overweight Syrian, but in his current state he’s in no position to offer any resistance. Once the ropes are released, I drag him across the cold, stone floor to the position La Contessa wants.

He is soon lying on the floor, his face directly below Becky’s cunt, his wrists tied to the bottom of the wooden frame, and his ankles to a set of wooden spreader bars.

La Contessa stands over him. She’s a magnificent sight. I’m almost envious of the merchant, staring up at her voluptuous curves, a stunning presence in her figure hugging silk gown. La Contessa shed her red cloak long ago, and now her slender arms and shoulders are bare. What a wonderful sight for the merchant, one he hardly deserves. Once again, I try to resist the swelling in my cock.

La Contessa rests one of her boots on the merchant’s chest. The shiny black leather and the glittering silver buckles placed under his nose. She raises the silver tipped heel over his sore and tormented nipples, and presses hard forcing the full weight of her body onto the nipple. The Syrian grunts in anguish. She runs the sharp silver across his chest and across his stomach, leaving a long red scratch. Finally, she rests the silver tip on the end of the Syrian’s cock, which lies flaccid and exposed on the stone floor. She presses hard, releases for a moment, and then presses even harder. The merchant’s body jerks, his body twisting with the pain and pulling on his restraints. I see spittle oozing from the side of the ball gag as he tries to scream. La Contessa is not finished yet though. Becky stares into his eyes to witness his torment and humiliation.

La Contessa gives me an instruction to undo the ball gag. As the leather covered ball is finally pulled from the merchant’s aching jaws, he starts to spew out angry words in his native tongue. La Contessa turns on him, her eyes fiery with anger.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear a peep from you. What you have experienced so far is a mere fraction of what I am capable of. You will suffer in silence. Let it be known La Contessa will extract her retribution. There is one final act of humiliation I need to witness before I banish you from my presence.”

She gently strokes Becky’s fanny and gazes into her eyes.

“Slave girl, this will be your final act of revenge on your abuser. I think you understand what I need you to do.”

Becky nods. At first it’s a trickle of golden water as she releases her piss over him. It’s soon a torrent of hot water gushing from her cunt over his black beard, seeping into his mouth. It’s as if Becky has been holding it in her bladder, knowing the use to which her golden waters will be put. When the girl’s piss has been emptied over her tormentor’s head, La Contessa finally looks satisfied.

“Now servant, I want you to take this one away. I have finished with him. There is a cell at the far end of the dungeon. You can lock him in there until he can be returned to the custody of the procurator.” Turning to the girl, La Contessa proclaims, “Now, it is about you and your initiation, girl, to find out if you are fit to become my slave girl. I’ve extracted retribution on your behalf from your abuser. I’m pleased with how you have acquitted yourself but you must face more ordeals before I can fully admit you into my world.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is the story of how my two characters Mattie and Cerys met. All my stories are about them but all the stories stand on their own.

I felt like I had known Mattie my whole life. She had literally saved my life on many occasions. The spiral of depression and self harm I had slipped into just before I met her were threatening to wipe out my existence. I needed something but I hadn’t know what it was until we had met one night in a club. Her club as it turned out. She hadn’t quite had the reputation she has now but she was well known as the most sadistic Domme around the City. Her club ‘The Bear Pit’ was famous for being the best and better regulated and safest s&m club around. The punishment suites were always booked up.

The night that we met, I had been high on something and suicidal. I wanted to find someone in the club to simply beat me to death. I just wanted the pain to take away all my other thoughts. Thoughts about my own shame of being gay of what my parents thought about it. Of how they tried to brain wash me into being straight. I was traumatised. I knew I was but I just wanted someone to come along and take control. I was useless at being in charge of my own life. I was killing myself slowly.

I had wandered into the club looking for someone sadistic to play with me when Mattie had seen me. She came over and spoke to me, sitting down quietly next to me and giving me a drink.

“What do you want?” I said, annoyed at the intrusion. She just held the drink out and said nothing. I was 19 and she looked older than that, possibly 25. She looked hot too. I looked her in the eyes and even then something in her gaze made me look away. I caught a hint of a smile on her lips as I did. I took the drink and downed it. I knew I looked a mess and I was wondering what the hell she was doing even giving me the time of day. I fumbled about my pockets for a cigarette and she lit it for me.

“Look, what do you want?” I asked again.

“Do you think I have to explain myself to you?” I wasn’t expecting that reply and it sent shivers down my spine. I looked at her again and she was deadly serious.

“What are you doing in my club? Who are you waiting for?” She asked.

“I don’t have to answer you.”

“Oh I think you do. I’ve seen you in here before. You’re bad for business. “

“And how do you work that out?” There was a sexual tension between us that I couldn’t work out. She was saying one thing but I was feeling something else from her. I swallowed hard as she didn’t answer. I took a breath to speak and she got up.

“You can either come with me or leave. I don’t want you sitting here waiting for some sadistic bitch to flog you half to death.” I looked up at her. She was holding her hand out. I still to this day have no idea why I went with her but I did. I put my hand in her hand and went with her. She took us through a black curtain at the back of the club and down a corridor. The club was really classy. I had expected it to look like some sort of a brothel when I first went there but there was a bar and then through the back were the suites you could hire. Most were kitted out with a cross, chains suspended from the ceiling and a selection of whips, floggers and crops. Anything that went in or up any orifice you had to bring yourself.

I walked along behind her and she took us through the maze of corridors where we heard screams and cries and begging for mercy. My cunt was throbbing at this point just listening to the other people back there. We got to a door that said private and she took me up some steps to a second level and into a dark room. Without turning the light on she closed the door and left us both in the beykent escort pitch black room.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Be quiet.” She said quietly and with full authority and expectation that I would obey. I did obey. The other times that a Domme had taken me through to a suite they had just tied me up and flogged or whipped me for a while and then I’d gone home. It had never been enough. Nothing was ever enough. I wanted intense. I wanted body on fire. Words like excruciating; agonising, unbearable were words that I wanted to be using. I stood in the dark while she did whatever she was doing. She seemed to know her way around in the dark. The room was soundproofed. I couldn’t hear any of the other people once the door was closed. She came round the back of me and slipped a blindfold over my eyes. I went to touch it and she took it away.

“Hands down or you can just leave.” My sassy, fuck the World attitude wanted to tell her where to go but my cunt wanted me to stay so I stayed. I took a deep breath and sighed heavily and she laughed softly.

“Poor baby. Keep still now.” I did what she said and she put the blindfold on. She tied it tight.

“What’s your name?” She said from somewhere round the back of me. I heard her click the light on but none of it penetrated the blindfold.

“Cerys. What’s yours?”

“I’ll ask the questions. You need to pick a safeword.”

“I don’t need a safeword.” I said cockily.

“I’m not going any further until you have one.” She said firmly. I sighed.

“Giraffe then.” I said sarcastically.

“Take this seriously, right now or leave. The beating that you are going to get if you play the game right needs a safe word now pick one.” I could tell she was serious. I sighed again.

“Alright, I’ll say Mercy.”

“You can remember that can you? In the heat of things?”

“I won’t need it. There ain’t nothing you can do to me that I can’t take.” I could hear her walking about. She came to the front of me.

“Present your wrists to me willingly and whatever happens after I take them will need your safeword to get out of it. Do you agree that you are willing to give yourself over to me?”

“For what? What are you going to do?”

“That was a yes or no question.” None of the other Domme’s that I had given myself to had affected me the way she was doing. I felt scared and excited and it felt good.

“Yes, I agree.” I said annoyed that she had got to me.

“Hold out your wrists.” I did and she slipped leather cuffs on them. I heard a click of a lock on each wrist.

“Stand with your legs apart.” I moved them apart and she started undressing me. She had only put the wrist cuffs on and not fastened them together. This made it easier for her to undress me. She did it slowly and silently. I kept my arms raised as she removed my skirt and boots. She took my top off and removed my bra. After she removed my g-string I was butt naked. My mind was racing as she left me standing there. The room smelled of some sort of incense and leather. She came up at the back of me and breathed on my neck.

“Do you think I do this all the time with my customers?” I went to answer and she put her finger to my lips.

“Do you think you’re the first or the last in a long line of many? Do you think that anyone else will ever be good enough for you after I’ve finished with you? What do you think Cerys? Do you think I can make you cum through pain alone?” That question terrified and excited me. Most Domme’s I had worked with stopped long before I was ready to cum. I didn’t hold out much hope for her. They were only words. gaziosmanpaşa escort

She reached around my back and put a belt around my waist and fastened it tight and then she clipped my wrists to each side of the belt. There was no way to unfasten them with the way the belt was fastened. She lead me across the room. I felt her putting rope through my arms at the elbow and she pulled tight at one side and then at the other so I was secured by each elbow across the room. The rope rubbed and I knew it would burn if I moved too much.

“This is your last chance to back out before I start. You can obviously get out of it any time after that.”

“No. Just do it.”

“Just do it?” She sounded displeased. I was really ready for it just then and didn’t want her to think about punishing me for being rude.

“Please. Please, I don’t want to back out.”

“Mattie. My name is Mattie. Don’t call me Mistress. You say Yes Mattie.”

“Yes Mattie.” She struck without warning and I did yell out just from the shock but I soon settled into the familiar thud of the flogger. She began at the back but worked all round my body, kicking my legs apart so she could work on my inner things and even ankles and calves. Without warning she changed to a more stingy whip. She concentrated on my back and tits at first and I was warming up nicely. She came close to me and invaded my cunt with her hand, her fingers prying me open and entering me. I caught my breath and hung my head back and she brought her hand up and invaded my mouth with my own juices. I tasted myself and she kissed me, grasping the back of my hair tight. She pulled me away from her.

“Are you ready for some serious pain?”

“Always.” The first crack of the bullwhip shot through my cunt like a gun shot. It hit my clit and I began cumming as she carried on cracking the whip at me all over. My instinctive reaction was to close my legs as they weren’t secured apart in any way and she cracked the whip at my ankles.

“Keep your legs apart!” She kept going with the bull whip shooting bullets of fire all over my body. She was relentless and I ended up screaming for her to stop. I never said the safeword though. I didn’t want her to stop but the pain was intense. She just kept going over and over again concentrating on my sides and the backs of my arms at the top, all sensitive places that rarely saw any attention from a whip.

My legs gave way eventually and I went hoarse from screaming. My arms were raw where the ropes were cutting into me. I could tell some of the cracks had broken the skin and I could feel blood trickling down my body in various places.

“Stand very still.” I felt the cold blade of the knife touch my breast and I didn’t move. My body was on fire but all my attention went to the knife at that point. Without warning she ripped the blindfold off and light flooded into my eyes, blinding me. I shook my head trying to make sense of what I was seeing. She was standing in front of me with the top of the blade pressing against my nipple. I looked at my elbow joints where the ropes were and they were burnt with the ropes rubbing as I had thrashed about during the whipping. I smiled slightly. She put the tip of the blade under my chin and pushed up to make me look at her.

“You like that do you?” I shrugged. She laughed.

“You’re not very expressive are you? Maybe this will help.” She bent down and I watched as she positioned the tip of the knife against my clit. She started pushing and I could feel it about to break the skin. I sucked my breath in.

“You won’t be much use without a clit will you?”

“What ortaköy escort do you want to know?” I said desperately.

“Do you like what you see, so far?”

“Yes.” She pushed a bit harder.

“I want you to talk to me!”

“Yes, I like it! I like what the rope has done to my arms. I’ll be able to feel that after today and see it.”

“Very good.” I breathed again as she took the knife away from my clit. She put it against my tits.

“Watch this. Watch how beautiful the bead of blood looks as it forms.” I watched as she pressed the top of the knife into my breast just above the nipple. It broke the skin and I caught my breath as the bead of blood appeared and trickled down my nipple and onto the floor.

“I thought you weren’t meant to do blood play in here.”

“It’s my club. I’ll do whatever I want. I could slit your throat if I want.” She put the knife to my throat and for the first time I was slightly scared. She put the blade against my throat and I kept deadly still. I could feel it pressing into my skin and breaking it. She rocked it back and forth around the contours of my neck until I imagined a line of blood trickling down all the way round the front of my neck. She smiled when she was done and stepped back.

“Very pretty. Want to see?” I nodded and she shouted.

“Speak to me you fucking slut!” I jumped.

“Yes, I want to see….please.” She showed me in a mirror and there was a red, angry line all the way round the front of my throat with blood trickling down from it. I smiled.

“How am I supposed to show up at work on Monday with that looking like that?”

“Who says you’re going anywhere?” My heart contracted and my cunt jumped to attention too when she said that.

“I’ve been watching you, coming in here, week after week. Literally watching you.” She pointed to the cctv cameras in the corner of the room.

“It’s not that easy to find someone who I am compatible with.” She looked me in the eye and started taking the belt off her trousers. It was black leather and about an inch wide. She wrapped the buckle end round her hand and bent down in front of me. I bent my head to watch her, feeling the cut on my neck pulling. It was superficial but effective. I had blood all over the top half of me now in slight lines. The bleeding had stopped. She touched my cunt with the belt. She slapped my legs hard.

“Move them apart!” She ordered and I did. She inserted the tip of the belt up into my dripping cunt. It was a strange sensation and she just kept threading it in until just the buckle was left hanging out. I could only feel the bit at the entrance, not inside. She let go of it and peeled back my outer lips, pulling them hard to expose my clit. It was throbbing in anticipation. I was having a hard time remembering to take a breath. She put her mouth over my clit and just kissed it. Then she began licking me tenderly getting rougher and a bit faster as my breath sped up. Just as I was about to come she jammed her thumb onto my clit and pulled the belt out. She kept the pressure on my clit while I finished my orgasm and then she went round the back of me and began belting me with the belt, wet with my own juices. That made each crack on my back hurt more. I cried out at the first one. She hit me so hard, I could feel each strike erupt into a welt of angry raised skin. I could feel that some of them broke the skin and I was screaming almost continuously now. She concentrated on my shoulders and buttocks and she only stopped when my knees buckled and I began to cum. I was left hanging from my arms, the rope cutting in having orgasm after orgasm. My eyes closed and my head fell forwards and my body shook. I wasn’t even there, in the room. Time stood still.

I didn’t feel her moving me. She lay me on a mattress and put a straw in between my lips. I drank the cold water and started to come round a bit. I opened my eyes and smiled at her. She leant down and kissed me. I knew we were meant to be together. The rest, as they say, is history.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This story is the property of the author. It is not to be changed in any way, nor published or shown at other web sites without the permission of the author.

Please provide feedback, if you choose. All comments appreciated.

* * * * *

It had been over two years since John had first met and Dominated Libby. They had met on the Internet three years ago and maintained a Master/submissive relationship for nearly a year before John moved away to another state. John’s wife had been ill with severe dementia and had passed away which was the principle reason for his moving. He had been asked to take a job in another city and since his wife had passed on, he agreed to the move. Libby, being nearly twenty years his junior, in her forties, had decided to return to college to finish her undergraduate work; hence they seemed to just drift apart.

Recently, John had been promoted to regional manager of his company with headquarters in his previous home city and state. As he drove on his way to his new job, he passed the hotel where he and Libby first met and held their first BDSM session. The hotel had several out of the way private chalets and he had retained one for their initial session. Libby lived about an hours drive to the west from the hotel and John equally as far to the east. John had chosen the hotel as their first meeting place because of the relatively short driving distance for each of them and the availability of the private chalets.

Libby had thoroughly enjoyed her first session as John’s submissive and they continued meeting for ‘training’ sessions every two or three weeks. John had kept up his email and Instant Messenger correspondence with Libby for a few months after he left. But soon the nature of their new occupations, Libby in college and he as an executive in his company, caused them to follow different paths. John wondered if Libby had continued her life of submission and decided to try to call her as soon as he had settled in to his new job.

Another month had passed before John finally established himself as Regional Manager and he found himself at the head of a very efficient operation. His management style was to delegate responsibility and authority to his subordinates. This style gave them a stake in their company and also allowed the best people to move upward. His reward was high performance, increased business, high morale in his employees and an opportunity to have more time for him self. Soon his thoughts turned to Libby and how to get in touch with her. He still had her old phone number and he decided to call her.

It was Saturday morning when he picked up the phone and called Libby. The phone rang three times before a familiar voice answered, “Hello.”

“Hello, Libby,” he responded, “It’s John, your old Master,” he said with a laugh.

“John? It’s been two years since I’ve heard from you,” she said happily. “How are you and what have you been doing?” she asked, obviously pleased that he had called. John told her about Lori’s passing and his new job. Libby sympathized with him about Lori and congratulated him on his promotion. They talked about her college studies, how she was doing and about nearly everything that had transpired since they last spoke. Libby told him that she was in the midst of studying for her finals and planned to graduate at the end of this spring term. They spoke for nearly an hour, but the subject of BDSM never came up. The call ended with Libby asking him to call her after graduation, which was taking place in three weeks.

John agreed to call, but was disappointed that Libby had not invited him to her graduation. But most of all he was disappointed that she never brought up the subject of their prior BDSM relationship. Perhaps it was just a fad of the time for her, he thought. Of course it could also be that she had a lot of studying to do for her finals. No matter how he rationalized the situation, he had a feeling of rejection. He hung up the phone and looked about his new house trying to interest him self in furnishing it and making it livable to his liking. When he first bought it, he had looked at the finished basement and wondered if he should convert part of it into a ‘Dungeon’ to satisfy his BDSM passions, with Libby in mind. Now he wasn’t sure what he should do.

Two weeks passed without a word from Libby. She had asked him to call her, but he had hoped she would call first. He was disappointed, to be sure, but he knew in his heart that the next move was up to Libby. He would call her in a week as he had agreed, but decided that he would not bring up the subject of her submission. John decided to look at the status of the flower beds and bushes outside his new home. He changed into a pair of jeans, and went outside to inspect them. His home was nearly a mansion, when compared to the home he previously owned in this town.

The house sat on a very large gated lot with a long drive to get to the entrance and a wrought iron fence all around hadımköy escort it. There were six bedrooms, each with a separate bathroom, large living and dining rooms, a study office, huge kitchen, finished basement and a three car garage. Outside there was a swimming pool, hot tub, patio, a small bath house and lots of green area. All that was left to do was to fully furnish the interior. It was everything he and Lori had ever wanted, but now she wasn’t there to enjoy it with him.

John saw the mail man place some letters in his box at the gate and decided to walk down the driveway to retrieve them. Most were either junk mail or company letters, but one looked like an invitation without a return address. He opened that one first and was delighted to see that it was an invitation from Libby to her graduation. On the inside envelope she had written, ‘For Master John’ and had signed it ‘Slave Libby’. John’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t forgotten at all. He smiled from ear to ear as he walked back to the house. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought, ‘I should build that Dungeon in my basement after all.’ He had a week to do it.

He dialed a friend in the construction business that had also been active in the BDSM lifestyle when he lived here previously. After the greeting and small talk was over, John asked him if it was possible to covert part of his huge finished basement to his private specifications. His friend recognized the ‘code words’ and said, yes. They decided to meet that afternoon to lay out the plans for the hidden basement Dungeon. An hour later John and his friend were in the basement deciding where everything would be placed. It was agreed that enough would be ready by next Saturday to pass muster for an initial Dungeon. John didn’t divulge for whom he was building it, but his friend knew not to ask and that he would eventually be told.

By next Friday evening the initial phase of the Dungeon was completed. An area fifteen feet square had been laid out and soundproofed. Special lighting and dark walls simulated the old stone Dungeons of the Middle Ages. A heavy oak door opened to reveal various ‘torture’ devices…X-frames, benches, pedestals, stocks, overhead chains, manacles and steel rings strategically placed in walls and on floors. Overhead chains that could be activated remotely hung down from the ten foot high ceiling with removable oak beams that could support several hundred pounds of weight. The walls were covered with an assortment of Implements and Toys such as various whips, crops, restraints, floggers, chains, clamps, gags, blindfolds and a variety of other devices of discomfort, pain and pleasure. Finally, a full bathroom with shower, bath and toilet was completed. It was not finished, but ready enough for what John had in mind for Libby. The rest would be finished later.

Finally, it was graduation day morning for Libby. The ceremony was held in the University field house and lasted for nearly two hours. As students, parents, relatives and friends sought out their graduates, so John sought out Libby. He found her standing near an exit straining her eyes to find John. She turned around and saw him as he walked toward her. She grinned from ear to ear as she waited for him with out stretched arms until they embraced one another. She kissed him briefly then introduced him to some of her fellow students. Most of them thought John was her father, but she told them that John was her friend from long ago.

“Libby, you look wonderful,” he told her when they were finally alone. “You are a very lovely lady.” Libby smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Thank you, Master John,” she whispered into his ear.

“Are you supposed to be at a party or other event after your commencement?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head as she spoke, “I have no family here, nor friends that I invited. I decided to only invite you.”

“Thank you, Libby. That makes me feel special to be the only one invited,” he told her.

“You are special to me, Master John.” He smiled as he took her hand in his and began to lead her towards the parking lot.

“Where are you parked, Libby?” She replied that she rode to the graduation with another student. John was happy to hear her say that and he led her to his car. “How nice, that makes it easy to ask you to let me drive you home, Libby.” She replied that she was hoping to spend the day or perhaps the weekend with him. He grinned at her, “Tell me, Libby; are you collared, or serving a Dominant currently?”

“No Sir, I haven’t served anyone other than you, and no one since you left. The only other exception was the Masters and Mistresses that you had me serve when you were here before. As you may recall, Master, I did not serve them sexually. You only permitted them to discipline me. Actually, Sire, I have only had self sex since you left and I enrolled in college. I have masturbated often to gain relief, because I didn’t want haramidere escort anything to interfere with getting my degree.”

“That’s admirable, Libby. I don’t think I could have been disciplined enough to do that. You have more self-control than anyone I have known.” Libby smiled and felt warm and comfortable as she snuggled next to her Master as they drove off. John invited her to spend the weekend at his home and she readily agreed, asking that he stop by her apartment so she could pick some clothes for the weekend. He stopped at a house near the University where Libby had taken a room while going to school. She invited him in to her small apartment and began to pack a small bag for her stay with him. John looked around to see a very Spartan apartment with just the absolute minimum needed to go to school and study.

Soon they were back in the car driving towards John’s house and his new Dungeon. Libby had changed clothes, but she decided to wear the long graduation gown and Mortar Board hat on their trip. She said that she had worked so hard to get that cap and gown that she felt she wanted to wear it for more than just the ceremony. They laughed together over that remark as the car sped toward John’s home. Neither of them was hungry for food, and they decided not to stop for lunch. Two hours later John pulled up to the gate at his home, opened the gate with his remote control and entered his estate.

Libby was fascinated by the size and splendor of the house and grounds. “Wow, Master, I can’t believe this. You must have won the lottery!” she exclaimed. John smiled as he pulled to a stop at the main entrance. He quickly went around to the passenger side to open the door for Libby. He retrieved her bag from the trunk and followed her up the stone steps to the front door. Opening the door, he gestured for her to enter and followed her inside. Libby was taken aback by the size of the rooms and the sparse furniture that they held.

“I need to furnish the whole house, Libby. These pieces were left by the previous owner, but as you can see more furniture is needed,” he said. “Perhaps you can make a few suggestions, because I’m not good at selecting just the right things.” Libby just stared as she walked from room to room taking it all in. They stopped in the living room which had some comfortable traditional furnishings that John had bought. He invited Libby to sit down and asked her if she needed anything to eat or drink. “Perhaps some wine?” he suggested. Libby nodded as she sat down and continued to look all around the huge living room.

John left the room for a few moments then returned with two glasses of Blush. He handed one glass to Libby and kept the other. They touched glasses in a toast to Libby’s graduation and the clear ring of expensive crystal resonated throughout the room. “A toast to the most beautiful graduate of the day,” he said lifting his glass to hers. Libby smiled and loosened her gown then let it flutter to the floor as she stood naked wearing only a pair of thigh high stockings, her graduation cap and a lovely smile. John nearly dropped his glass, but quickly recovered to drink to Libby’s graduation.

He gazed at her lovely body which he hadn’t seen for over two years. Libby hadn’t changed, as far as he could tell and she still had her great figure. Her full breasts swayed provocatively, defying gravity, and seemed to rise up when her nipples hardened to stand erect in the center of her rosy areolas. The wonderfully trimmed soft brown curly bush that formed a V over her pussy was gone. Her sweet pussy was cleanly shaved. John swallowed hard as he drank in the beauty of her magnificent breasts and smoothly shaved pussy. He slowly sipped his wine knowing that soon he would be tasting her beautiful breasts and delicious pussy.

Libby had hardly changed in the past two plus years. She was as beautiful as he remembered her when first they met in the chalet. Libby’s breasts heaved as she breathed deeply, happy that her Master was pleased with her. She looked so naughty in only the cap and thigh high stockings, but that had been her intent. Libby kneeled down and spread her thighs apart, revealing the moisture on the lips of her pussy. She placed her hands palms up on her thighs and looked at the living room floor. Although John had been rehearsing this meeting since he received the invitation, she had overwhelmed him again.

For a moment he wondered who was really in charge, he or this marvelous woman kneeling before him. Had she been a Domina, he would be instantly ready to do what ever she commanded, he thought to himself. He quickly removed his clothes, walked naked to his beautiful submissive and straddled her thighs. His semi hard cock was rising fast and it brushed her face as it reached full hardness. “Look at your Master, slave girl Libby,” he told her. Libby lifted her head and again brushed her face against his cock as her eyes locked atakent escort on to it. “Greet your Master, Libby,” he commanded. Libby moved her head slightly toward him and kissed the head of his cock then again her gaze shifted to look at the floor.

John could hear Libby panting softly and listening intently for his next command as she knelt before her Master. He gazed at her magnificent breasts and his cock hardened even more. Her eyelids fluttered and her breath heaved in her chest as John’s huge cock swayed slightly just inches from her mouth. John bent to cup her chin, lifted it and kissed her lovely lips tenderly, thankful to have her back in his life again. Looking at her naked beauty while she knelt before me he reached to her chest to rub her nipples as they hardened into little bullet shaped nubs. She accepted his kiss hungrily and pressed back her shoulders to offer her nipples to him.

John grasped her nipples in his thumbs and forefingers to gently roll, tug, pinch and squeeze them. Libby moaned with pleasure as he played with her nipples. Gently, he pulled her to her feet by her nipples as she moaned with delight and some discomfort. It had been over two years since anyone had pulled her about by her nipples. Libby squealed as he pulled her to her feet. Though she welcomed it, she had nearly forgotten the delightful pain it brought. She gasped as John twisted and pinched her nipples. He moved behind her to grasp her arms and pulled them back until her elbows touched. John placed a restraint around her elbows and another around her wrists to hold her arms securely.

He produced a chain leash with three small chains hanging from the end of the leash. A clamp ominously hung at each of the tips of the small chains. He bent to her chest to lick her right nipple as he rubbed, rolled and tugged on her left nipple. John bit the nipple he licked and pulled it out as far as it would go and tightly snapped a clamp over it. He quickly did the same to her other nipple. Libby groaned as the clamps pained her nipples, but she stoically endured. He forced her to spread her legs as he gripped her shaved cuntlips and clamped them together with the third clamp. Libby groaned as tears filled her eyes. The pain increased when John pulled at the leash to test that it was securely seated on her nipples and cuntlips.

Libby turned her head sharply as she whimpered and looked away. John pulled on the leash as he walked toward the door that led to the basement. His slave girl was obliged to follow him, sobbing softly as her nipples and cuntlips were stretched, pressed and aching. They descended the steps to the basement and passed through the heavy oak door into the dimly lit Dungeon. John threw a switch that bathed the center of the Dungeon in a bright spotlight while keeping the other areas of the room dark. The spotlight beamed down on a special straight backed chair that had devices hanging from little hooks on the edges of the seat. John pulled Libby to stand in front of the chair as he sat down to look up at his bound and clamped slave girl.

“In this Dungeon you may only address me as Master John, when asked or are permitted to speak. Do you understand?” John asked her. Libby nodded as she grimaced from the pain in her nipples and cuntlips. John reached up and removed the slave girls’ nipple clamps. Libby groaned as her unclamped nipples began to burn as the blood painfully rushed into her nipples to restore circulation. A tear formed in the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek to fall off her chin and splatter on her breast.

John covered her sore nipple with his mouth to lick and suckle it to ease the hurt. He sucked it gently until the flattened nipple was fully restored to its former erect and hardened state. Moving to her other burning nipple, he licked and sucked it until that nipple too was restored. He switched nipples several times then cast his eyes to her smoothly shaved mons and the delightfully wet treasure beneath it. Libby gasped and writhed with pleasure as he caressed her nipples with his lips and tongue. His hand cupped her wet pussy as he placed his finger between the lips of her slit. Libby moaned softly and stiffened, slightly parting her thighs for his pleasure while his eyes gazed upon her wet treasure.

He removed the clamp that held her cuntlips tightly closed, grasped her cuntlips tightly with his fingers and pulled her by her pussy to the side of his chair. Libby melted in his grasp and pressed her hot needy slave flesh into his hand that held her cunt captive. She arched her back and parted her thighs wide while panting and writhing. John brought her closer and nuzzled her beautiful breasts again. He reached to a hook on his chair to select a small silver chain with clamps on both ends.

John placed the chain behind Libby’s neck and let the clamps lie on the tops of her breasts, an inch above her hard nipples. He lifted her right breast to suckle her nipple making it harden even more then clamped it securely again. Taking her left nipple in his mouth, he licked and clamped that nipple too. Libby stiffened and stifled a moan in her throat as the metal clamps bit into her tender pink nipples. John released her breasts. Libby groaned with pain as the clamps suspended her breasts by her nipples from the chain around her neck.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note:

This is my first attempt at writing any kind of story, erotic or otherwise. Please be kind.

As a warning, this is not intended to be a quick get-you-off type story. If that’s what you’re in the market for, you’ve come to the wrong place. It takes a while to come to a sexual scene.

If it isn’t clear enough, ‘lines like this in italics and single quotes’ are meant to be Devyn’s voice to herself in her own head.

I’d love to hear all feedback. Think it’s great? Happy to hear it. Think it sucks? I’d love to understand why.

EDIT April 16, 2019: Edits and helpful guidance provided by EGRI.

*

It had been a day just like any other day. I’d woken up horny before getting up for work. There hadn’t been any morning playtime, which was unusual in the scheme of things but typical for this week. Work had been a frustrating journey from one SQL error message to the next, trying to focus through daydreams of color flecked eyes, close cut black hair and an iconic knowing smile. Turns out it’s really annoying to transfer code from MSSQL into Oracle while hiding hard nipples from everybody working around you.

My work outfit lasted maybe 20 seconds past the door to my small studio apartment. Naked and finally free of #adulting responsibilities, I settled down for some me time. Like I said, just a typical ordinary day.

Except that it wasn’t. Today was special. Today was the day that my best friend Malcolm would be on the Jersey City campus to take one of his law school finals. Just like every other time he’d come over to my side of the Hudson River, he would eventually text me to get dinner with him. Give it half an hour or so to finish the test and his invitation would appear on my phone.

I ran my fingers over my thighs, letting them get as high as the edge of my trimmed bush before going back down. Just a little tease to warm myself up. I didn’t need it, not after all the edging and teasing I’d done to myself this past week. My pussy had been leaking near constantly and my nipples hadn’t been soft in ages. Still, I needed to make myself as hot as possible before leaving tonight. My plan was to be so horny that lust drowned out my fear of rejection when I finally attempted to break out of the friend zone.

I’m not normally this much of a wuss. I’m actually really confident and brazenly flirtatious around everybody else in the world. But maybe that’s just the freedom of indifference. I don’t care much what any quick fling thinks of me as long as they get me off. Malcolm… well, he’s different. I wanted far more than just a quick fuck out of him. I wanted him to feel for me what I felt for him. And, while he’s never shown me anything but positivity and respect, he’s also never tried to move past just being friends. And he’s the kind of man to act on what he wants.

‘Maybe this is why he’s never made a move on me,’ I thought to myself looking over my lewdly spread body. ‘I’m more of a guy than a girl. I’m messy and scratch myself in public. I dress for comfort and hate wearing makeup. I spend all my free time at the gym, playing video games or jilling off to porn. Those are the defining characteristics of masculinity, right? Oh yeah, and I’ve been friendzone’d by my best friend. Girls are not supposed to get sent to the friend zone by their male friends, right? I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.’

I don’t have the most quintessentially feminine hourglass body. At 5’11”, I’d been a little taller than most of the guys I’d unsuccessfully dated. A lifelong love of basketball and feeling fit had made my muscles slightly better defined than most women allow themselves to get. Perfect form for seducing one’s teammates… but a far sight from the delicate beauties Malcolm had dated over the years.

If things went badly, it wasn’t exactly like I had a flush social circle to fall back on…

‘Stop that! Stop being such a downer.’ This was why I’d finally come up with this plan, to turn that negative part of myself off. I brought my hands up to my breasts. Fuck feeling unfeminine, my tits are fucking awesome. Their C-cup bulk filled my hands completely with pleasantly feminine weight. Sure, their size sometimes got in the way of my active lifestyle, but the pleasure they gave me more than made up for it. Running my palms lightly over my nipples made me shiver and breath heavier. I tried to keep my caresses soft and teasing, but before long I found myself thrusting my chest forward and squeezing my nipples as hard as I could stand. Nearly time for the main event.

My external hard drive probably should have made it on the list of reasons why I’m basically a guy. Not many women I’ve met have 226 gigs worth of porn downloaded. Then again, that wasn’t my fault. That one was all Malcolm’s doing, and it showed exactly why our friendship had never been what one might call typically platonic. Even seven years later, the memory of meeting him and our early bonding still made me alibeyköy escort smile. It was so typically Malcolm… confident without being full of himself, firm without being abrasive, his magnetism had attracted me so easily.

I wasn’t very good at making friends in high school. It was hard to find a group to accept me. The gamer’s clique didn’t seem to know how to handle someone with breasts who wanted to play League of Legends with them. The male jocks would never play full speed with or against me, even though I was similarly sized or larger than most of them. And, of course, I’d rather have opened a vein than do what it took to fit in with the basic bitches of mainstream high school feminine culture.

Not that I was a loner by any means. I had friends, but they felt more like niche role players than personal connections. For example, Heather and I scratched each other’s video game itch, but we were both too introverted and awkward to get very close. I was on the girls’ basketball team, but had trouble bonding with any of my teammates 1-on-1 without the pretense of practice. Long story short, I never really felt accepted for being more than just one part of me. I got very used to my own company and I developed a prickly cynical personality that pushed many people away.

Until one day in senior year when I was randomly assigned Malcolm as a partner for a social studies project on how recent technology changes have impacted longstanding traditions, organizations or industries.

I hated group projects. Everybody hates group projects. The only people who like them are soulless extroverts who are destined to go work in an HR department somewhere. Of course, the only thing worse than a group project is one with somebody popular. Especially when it’s a popular and hot boy. All the popular people I’d ever been around had been infuriatingly smug and condescending. Add to that the jealous glares from all the other girls and I was seriously annoyed.

We were given the last few minutes of class to confer with our partners.

Malcolm was seriously popular. He had a reputation for being at home in nearly any group. And he was also seriously hot. He dressed just slightly better than high school required and stood an inch or two taller than me. I watched him cross the room to my desk, struck by how his short dark hair seemed to outline his face just so to accentuate his jaw line distinctively. It made his smile seem very genuine and warm, as though he was inviting you to join in a joke that only you and he knew.

“What are you looking so happy about?” I asked when he arrived at my seat. Like I said, prickly personality.

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this! This project is perfect.” I cringed, thinking it was a really weird pickup line. Just another guy trying to get into my pants.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t been looking out for the perfect excuse to do a school project about porn.” I did a double take. ‘… Okay, that’s a new one.’

“Erm… what?” His smile turned slightly mischievous, but he continued in a completely serious tone.

“For decades, porn was formulaic. It followed an established script of little to no foreplay, blowjob, and hardcore penetration in numerous improbable and uncomfortable positions into a final money shot. Nowadays, that kind of thing gets very little views on Pornhub. Demand is much higher now for more realistic depictions of sex, especially for amateurs focusing on female pleasure. Before, people would buy DVDs with generic scenes on each. Now, there’s hundreds of subreddits dedicated to specific kinks. What has changed? Is it simply the adaptation to the internet? Is it linked to expanding viewership and a more diverse audience? Is it because there’s more suppliers trying to find a competitive niche? There’s got to be enough material for a paper in there. What do you think?”

My jaw was just about on the floor. He was completely serious. He had just walked up to me, not blinked at my rudeness, started talking intellectually about porn, and seemed legitimately interested in what I had to say. ‘Dude has balls. Gotta respect that.’

“It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” I stammered.

“I have,” he confirmed. “I’m interested in what moves people. And, pubescent teenager that I am, it seems that little moves people quite so profoundly as sex.”

‘He’s a wordy one.’ The classroom had cleared out and the next class was coming in. I hurriedly gathered my books into my bag. “Well, maybe it’s not the same thing, but I bet there will be more ambidextrous people because of porn.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Well, you need one hand to work the mouse and one to jerk off with.” I tried to match his intellectual tone but couldn’t quite manage it and laughed at the end. It surprised me, I hadn’t been intending to say that. I’d been sefaköy escort intending to mutter something about needing to get to class and rush away. And another surprise, he wasn’t weirded out and was laughing with me.

“Maybe you’re right! Maybe we can fit that in the conclusion ‘looking forward’ section. Listen, I’ve got to get to trig, but I’ll message you tonight.” And just as suddenly as he’d arrived, he was gone.

That’s how Malcolm and I began bonding — over porn. Like I said, not a normal platonic friendship. All in the name of educational research for our project, of course.

Okay, maybe we kept going with it after the end of that project, which we got 100 on by the way. He’d send me a link to something hot and I’d try to find something hotter, back and forth trying to outdo the other for hours on end. It didn’t take long for us to really understand what made one another tick.

Malcolm was a dominant. He got off from controlling ‘his’ women and having them obey him. I know this because he told me right at the beginning. I asked what he was into and he literally told me: “I’m a dominant. I get aroused feeling in control and being with somebody who accepts my control.” Okay, maybe he phrased it a little differently… but still. He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

At the time, I wasn’t kinky in the slightest. Still, Malcolm’s taste didn’t seem weird to me. I felt like it should, he showed me some pretty sadistic shit after all, but it really didn’t. I couldn’t feel judgmental of him because, for the first time in my life, I felt like somebody was really accepting of all of me. Malcolm embraced the part of me that wanted to be a nerd and dream about Mistborn. He encouraged the part of me that wanted to be hyper competitive and demolish foes on the basketball court and Summoner’s Rift. He understood the part of me that sometimes wanted to be left alone. He asked me questions and made me feel like I could answer truthfully — that he genuinely wanted my full blunt honesty. He gave my inner slut a safe haven to come out and not be judged or feel threatened. And, perhaps most importantly, he understood that just because I’m sometimes a total bitch doesn’t mean I actually hate him.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly to me, I started getting turned on by BDSM. I found myself delving more into it, trying to find new material that would turn him on. He, in turn, fed me a steady diet of kink. A diet that was tailor made to appeal to me. For example, I identify as bisexual, but I really only get wet for a specific kind of woman. Someone who’s very strong and wows me. It’s kinda hard to describe, but I know it when I see it, and so does he. I fell in love when he showed me Queensnake. She and all her models are fucking goddesses of physical endurance, mental discipline and emotional strength. My eyes were inches from the screen watching her take stroke after stroke and manage to rise again every time. I don’t think I’d ever been that wet before in my life. I admired her so much and I wanted to be that strong.

But it was never really sexual between us. We never talked about masturbating or wanting to fuck the models or getting off or anything. We’d say ‘that’s hot’ or talk about what we liked or disliked about it, but in a distinctly not sexting way. It was great at first because it made the whole thing seem safe for me. I was able to express a taboo part of me to somebody who wasn’t just trying to get into my pants.

But then I realized that I wanted to get into Malcolm’s pants. Then it stopped being quite so great. By then we had graduated and were attending different colleges three states apart. Our relationship evolved. We’d only see each other online or over holidays visiting home. The pornographic part of our dynamic slowed dramatically to an eventual stop when we both started dating. Well, he dated. I tossed myself onto the hottest body at any given party.

Nevertheless, it was a hugely formative part of my life, and all our old history of instant messenger conversations was saved to my external hard drive. Years’ worth of links, downloads and erotica flashed before my eyes as I loaded it onto my laptop. Over the course of many pleasurable nights, I’d sorted it all out into folders for Iconic Chats, Goddesses, Submissive Fantasies, Romantic Gay, Friends to Lovers (an especially guilty pleasure of mine), any dozens more. Sometimes I want something random, sometimes something specific. At work that day, I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about one favorite video.

My fingers dove to my pussy as I hit play on ‘Amateur giving her boyfriend a blowjob (

4)’. Her passion and excitement made it hot fire as she worshiped his cock with her mouth. Her face was a collage of competing emotions — excitement, joy, focus, pleasure and love — as her eyes darted between her lover’s face and his cock. It’s like she knew halkalı escort she’s supposed to keep eye contact as she sucks him, but she couldn’t help herself staring at his cock. And it was a beautiful cock! Think and shapely, it looked like it would fill my cunt wonderfully.

I curled my fingers inside myself, rubbing my g-spot as I fingered my clit and imagined being filled by the dick in her mouth. My heart raced in time with her bobbing head, each beat sending pulses of desire through me, making my pussy throb with lust. My muscles tensed and involuntary sounds escaped me. That’s exactly the kind of sloppy blowjob I wanted to give Malcolm! Feeling his throbbing hard cock in my mouth… his hands on my head guiding my rhythm… The pleasure playing across is beautiful face, feeling his hard abs flex, his legs quiver by my sides as I’d suck him… I moaned with the pleasure coursing through me, imaging he could feel my voice on his manhood. My pussy radiated heat like a fire, seemingly immune to all wet juices pouring from me.

Something else. Another video. If I stuck with this one to the end, to see her look of pure satisfaction after she swallowed his load, I’d cum in seconds and I needed to hold back. Tease and denial is one of Malcolm’s favorite games, and I’m not nearly as good at it as some bloggers I follow, but there was a lot at stake that kept me from tipping over the edge. Satisfied me is rational. Rational me gets nervous and afraid of taking chances. Rational me had held back from confessing her attraction to Malcolm for years, and she had no business coming out tonight!

I was so absorbed in masturbatory hedonism that I didn’t see the new text alert for some time.

Malcolm: Hey, I’m in your neighborhood tonight. Would you like to get dinner with me?

‘He’s got to be the only guy on Earth who uses correct punctuation in texts,’ I thought. Our text message history was a long string of perfectly proofread English from him contrasting text shorthand and emojis from me. This was it! All according to plan! Okay, don’t think, just let your hormones talk for you.

Devyn: yeah sounds good

Devyn: theres something iv wanted to talk about

Devyn: do not let me say its nothing

‘Success!’ I expected to feel consumed by regret and want to take it back, but I didn’t. A little nervous, but excited. My clit, confused about where her pleasure had vanished to, throbbed in frustration. I smiled and gently patted her like a puppy. “Don’t worry, you’ll have some real action soon enough… I hope.” I supposed it’s hard to feel too apprehensive with this much lust racing through your veins.

In a real way, what did I have to lose? Malcolm had been my best friend for seven long years, but our relationship hadn’t been what I wanted for most of them. I’d never felt really fulfilled with any of my partners and I’d been near murderously jealous of all his girlfriends. Also, rationally speaking, this was the perfect time. We were both single and living as close to one another as two working adults could reasonably hope to.

Okay, maybe it had been ‘the perfect time’ for several months already while I dragged my feet… but that was beside the point!

Something had happened with his last girlfriend. They were together for over two years, but their breakup was bad. We never talked about his romantic partners, probably because I turned bitchy the first few times they came up. Whatever it was, it was so bad that he was now trying to repress his natural kinky dominant side and was looking for vanilla satisfaction in a slew of Tinder hookups. He seemed less like himself… less confident and always slightly tired.

More than just my own unrequited attraction, I wanted to help him. I wanted to be the one that embraced him fully and let him be his real self, the way he had done for me. After many attempts to draw him out of himself, I’d finally realized that the only way to do that was to give him a new submissive. And that was going to be me.

All right, fine, I was more than a little nervous about it. Malcolm was naturally very dominant, but I wasn’t a born submissive. I wanted to be one for him, but I didn’t know how well I could perform. ‘It will be fine,’ I told myself for the hundredth time, ‘get him on board first then worry about the kinky stuff later.’

Malcolm: Well now, you have my attention. I’ll swing by your house in an hour. Do you feel like Italian?

‘An hour!?!’ It wasn’t like I ever spent eons in front of the mirror, but I seriously needed a shower. Hot water running through my hair, over my nipples and between my legs… mmm… Something told me I’d need some time to get properly clean.

——————-

He arrived in a suit, complete with tie, perfectly creased pants and cuff links. All that just to take a final. Typical. It’s unclear to me if he even owned a pair of jeans. An 85 degree summer evening and he’s dressed to impress and still looking infuriatingly clean, cool and relaxed. Sweat, apparently, was the kind of thing that happened to other people. I, on the other hand, had gone with casual jeans and a tank top. A pretty low cut tank top that showed off my chest wonderfully. I had given myself a little eyeliner, which is downright fancy for me, but we were still quite the mismatched looking pair.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Chapter 2 — Akshata and Sundar — The Proposal

| 3 years earlier |

When Akshata joined GloboDynamics Technologies as a Media Intern, it was like a breath of fresh air for the company. Sundar still recalled how she thought, on her first day, that formal clothing would be mandatory at work and showed up in an elaborate kurta-pyjama with odhni. Her oval face, ready smile, clear skin, and taller-than-average height made her the object of the attentions of both genders and all sorts of corporate rungs. Everyone at GD Tech wanted to get to know her better.

She was an intern in Sundar’s team, who headed the Marketing department. In his entire career at GD Tech, he had not had as many at-desk visits from his colleagues in a single day as he did the day Akshata joined. As for Akshata herself, she took her place next to Sundar and immediately asked for work so her 3-month internship could get a kick-start. She was a fast learner and after being trained for a day or two, she was handling as much work as a full-timer and doing it with flair. For the three months she was there, she never allowed any guy to approach her to flirt. They kept at it for days, but soon realized the futility and gave up after a while.

As days went by, Sundar learned that Akshata Kurien was a native of Karnataka, a state in Southern India. She lived here, in Mumbai, in a flat that she shared with four other girls, who were all at various stages of their corporate careers and had come to Mumbai to pursue better careers than their home towns would be able to give them. Akshata, at 19, was the youngest of the five and was pursuing Journalism. She was in the second year of the 3-year Bachelor in Mass Media (BMM) program. It was due to this program that she thought of doing a Media internship in her vacations from college, and that was how she landed at GD Tech.

During the months that Akshata was interning at GD Tech, Sundar was in a committed relationship that had lasted nearly a year. Sundar, who was 27 years old at the time and a self-aware sexual masochist for 13 of those, had only recently come clean about his need for physical pain to feel sexually stimulated, and his girlfriend had taken it well. She was his fifth GF in seven years of dating.

In his experience, they all acted as if they weren’t shocked at first. But when they came to fully realize what it meant to have a masochist for a boyfriend, they found that they were better off without the hassle of play-acting sadistically while in bed, even if it was just on the weekend. Nevertheless, because he was with another woman, Sundar never flirted with Akshata. However, the thought of Akshata demanding a quick smooch on her rear every afternoon as she entered the office premises did flash through his mind more times than was healthy.

—

About 2 months esenler escort into Akshata’s internship, GD Tech took on a new client and they liked what Sundar’s team was doing for their brand image. Work piled, and Sundar’s team members were soon pulling all-nighters. Akshata voluntarily stayed until 9 pm when her official timings were 2 – 7 pm. Sundar was very busy, but he did notice this and urged Akshata to keep to her usual timings more than once.

One evening, as Akshata was drafting an email for the CorpComm at 8:30 PM, Sundar once again offhandedly asked her to pack off and be gone by 7 PM every day. She refused point-blank and informed him that she was very much a part of the team and felt equally responsible for pending work. She said this a bit sharply, and Sundar stopped looking into his laptop to look into her eyes, only to find her glaring fiercely back at him. The look they shared lasted a bit longer than was strictly necessary. Any Marketing Head worth his salt in India knows how to read eyes; knows how to decipher them for what lay within the mind. As Sundar looked into Akshata’s, it suddenly dawned on him that maybe, just maybe, for the first time in his life, he was gazing into a pair of female eyes that were truly capable of dominance; truly capable of achieving independence by seizing control.

—

A couple of days later, as Sundar returned to his seat after a long-winded conference call with the well-paying client, Akshata was waiting with his phone in her hand.

“Sundar, there were calls you missed while you were inside. Someone named ‘Domme’ was calling. I did not pick up. They called thrice.”

“Oh, that’s my girlfriend,” said Sundar, grinning lopsidedly at the internal joke and rubbing his tired eyes. He took the phone and had turned to go to the lobby and call his girlfriend back when Akshata asked, “But what’s ‘Domme’ mean?”

“Google ‘power exchange’, yaar.” Sundar said distractedly. “You’ll know.” He went outside to place that call. He did not know whether she Googled or not, and never asked.

But what Sundar did not know was that ‘power exchange, domme’ was the first thing she typed into her phone’s search bar as soon as she was sure he was in the lobby. Somehow, she knew it wasn’t something she should type out on her work computer. Yet another matter Sundar did not know was that Akshata fancied him. Of all the males at GD Tech, only Sundar had not attempted to flirt with her or ogled at her parts inappropriately.

Being a beautiful 19-year-old in India, she knew this type of man was rare. Akshata had been grabbed at in a public transport train, molested openly in a public transport bus, pinched in the rear, wolf-whistled at by dozens of street hooligans, eve-teased brutally until she was in tears — florya escort and all of this before she was 16. No, Akshata Kurien did not know too many decent men. Which was why she was more inclined towards women…

But Sundar wasn’t like most other men — he was decent, and she looked up to him. Additionally, he was very good at his job. He was manager cadre at 27 and could be so much more in his career. Unlike her male peers at college, who still talked about immature things like Bollywood, rock bands, and cricket, Sundar discussed ideas, his thoughts on how Journalism was going downhill in the country and what could be done about it, and could speak knowledgeably on any topic under the sun. Akshata found that she wanted to spend more and more time at GD Tech and lesser with her academic peers. And this was why she had snapped when Sundar asked her to leave for home at the stipulated time — to leave HIM a couple of hours earlier every day.

On reading three lines of the first blog post that popped up on Googling ‘power exchange, domme’, Akshata knew it was not office-appropriate. She bookmarked it for later and read it at leisure at her flat that night. She soon realized that the more she read about it, the more it explained Sundar’s behaviour at work. He always hurried to open doors for women (and never for men), he always stood when a woman came to talk to him at his desk (and never for men), he asked whether he could fill her water bottle as soon as it was half-empty (“we don’t want kidney stones, do we?!”), and he was generally more available for his female colleagues.

She read and researched about BDSM and female-led relationships for a good 3 hours that night. However, when she reached the part about total power exchange, orgasm control, and abusive mothers, she felt she needed to cross-reference what she had found out with someone who could know about it. She got up off her mattress to consult with Vaishnavi, her 25-year-old roommate who was highly experienced with men. But as soon as she had taken a step, she felt the wetness that had built up steadily as she lay reading about Sundar’s secret sex life. Vaishnavi’s bed was to her left. The washroom was to the right. With her phone in hand, Akshata chose right.

—

A month after Akshata’s internship ended with GD Tech, girlfriend ditched Sundar for better prospects and vanilla sex. A month after that, Sundar was in full-fledged depression. No quantity of porn or masturbation helped. He ate, dragged himself to work, lost clients left and right, ate some more, and dragged himself back home to run ‘femdom permanent chastity’ and ‘lifestyle femdom’ on Google in search of some sliver of sexual gratification. He found none.

On a typical workday some two months after being kayaşehir escort dumped, he was browsing search results for ‘lifestyle femdom’ listlessly on his home laptop when he read an interview of a professional UK mistress who had been introduced to the world of femdom at University. She was living in a paying-guest system with other girls and a senior who owned a “home slave” had the 30s-something man clean their rooms and pay their rent in exchange for being whipped on the ass with a mobile charger while being verbally abused from time to time.

For some reason, this got Sundar’s full attention. While his right hand was pumping, Sundar suddenly recalled that Akshata Kurien, his ex-intern from work, lived in a similar paying-guest system with other girls and wondered whether their flat also needed cleaning and washing and upkeep. If Akshata and her friends would have him, he thought in throes of ecstasy at his impending orgasm, he would do it in an instant. He would be their “home slave”.

Maybe it was two straight months of no female contact, or maybe it was all the cheese in his system that wasn’t allowing him to think straight, or maybe he just wanted to crash and burn — nothing else could have justified what Sundar did in the next few minutes. Sundar stopped pumping with his right hand before climaxing, picked up his phone, and messaged Akshata on WhatsApp. Sundar could clearly sense the blood pulsing in the vein on his right-hand-side temple. The pulsing vein doubled in speed when he saw she was online.

12:29 AM : “Hi Akshata”

12:29 AM : “Oh hi, Sundar”

12:29 AM : “Hi, hi, how have you been? Still drinking plenty of water, I hope :-)”

12:30 AM : “Yes! I’m great, yaar. Drink plenty of water daily 🙂 You say”

12:30 AM : “Wanted to know if you ever checked up on ‘power exchange’? I don’t know if you even remember, some months back when you saw my GF calling…”

12:31 AM : “Hmmm… I don’t remember, Sundar. What’s this about?”

The courage that Sundar had mustered started deflating like a punctured tyre the moment he sensed that Akshata was soon going to feel super weird that her ex-Boss was messaging her after three months of total silence to ask whether she had researched into his fetish. With what little reckless abandon that remained, he typed out the next message, telling himself that the worst that would happen was that she would block him on WhatsApp. He could live with that. It was because Sundar’s courage wavered at the last moment that he diluted down his proposal. Some part of him still wanted to protect his reputation in her eyes. It was because his proposal was diluted down that she did not shoot it down instantly.

12:33 AM : “Akshata, would it be okay if I took care of you for the next three months?

Silence.

No reply came to this message of his. He waited until 2 AM on tenterhooks. She kept coming back online from time to time, but no reply came. He drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

He had no way to know that a few miles away, two excited girls were rapt in conversation, Akshata and Vaishnavi.

– – – – –

Chapter 3 — Akshata and Vaishnavi

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Once upon a time there was a little blonde girl named Gilda, well she wasn’t so little, in fact she was big, plump and curvy with full lush breasts and she wasn’t exactly a girl having just had her 19th birthday the week before, but her friends called her Goldi because of her flowing blond hair.

One Friday night Goldi and some of her friends got drunk out by the lake and went skinny-dipping in the middle of the night. As the night went on all of Goldi’s friends paired up and started to fool around on blankets and as usual poor Goldi was the only one left out so she went walking in the woods. Very soon Goldi was lost and scared until she saw a large, lovely cabin in the woods in front of her.

Being drunk Goldi thought nothing of breaking into the cabin, she figured that she would stay there until morning and then go find her friends who would surely be looking for her. Little did she know that all her friends thought someone else had Goldi in their car when they drove back to town in the middle of the night.

Goldi wandered into the front room and found the liquor cabinet.

First she pulled out a bottle of Tequila and took a big drink and nearly choked, “Oh, way too strong.” she said.

Then she pulled out a bottle of beer and drank it, “Oh too boring.” she said.

Then she found the bottle of Southern Comfort and began to drink it like it was candy. “Ummmm, this is just right.” she proclaimed as she finished it off.

Goldi wandered drunkenly around the cabin until she found a bathroom with a shower in it and decided to take a shower. She stripped off her clothes and tossed them all over the bathroom and lathered up her entire body with the soap and played with herself until the hot water ran out. Goldi finally got out and wandered around the cabin naked until she found a large loft with 3 big beds.

The first bed was lower to the ground but it very very firm and Goldi could not get comfortable. “This bed is too firm.” she said.

The second bed was really tall and Goldi had a hard time climbing on to it “This bed is too tall.” She bitched.

Finally Goldi tried the third bed, it was average height and softer with a heavy wooden four poster frame. “This bed is just perfect.” she sighed as she fell asleep on top of the covers.

Early the next morning the owners of the cabin, three brothers whose last names just happened to be Bare drove up the cabin to hang out for the long weekend. They bayrampaşa escort were shocked to see the glass on their front door broken and the door open so they went in and saw that an nearly entire bottle of liquor had been used up and that there were damp sandy clothes on the floor in the bathroom.

They worked their way upstairs and were surprised to find a plump, curvy, naked blond on one of their beds.

They looked at each other and headed downstairs so they would not wake her yet. Standing at the bottom of the stairs they began to whisper about what to do with her. They could call the cops and report her for breaking and entering. They could wake her up and make her clean the cabin up before kicking her out. Or they could scare her and hope she learned her lesson.

The youngest Bare brother explained his plan to his older siblings and they agreed it sounded like fun to tie her to the bed and threaten her when she woke up then when she was all scared let her go and make her leave.

They looked around and found some rope and snuck up the stairs.

They tied the drunken Goldi to the bed and waited for her to awaken. After an hour they got tired of waiting and so the youngest one tried to shake her awake, no use. After a bit the middle one tried tickling her foot, no use.

Finally another hour went by and the oldest and biggest of the brothers decided he was getting bored and horny looking at her huge breasts so he got more rope and began the tie it around those soft globes. “I always wanted to see what this looked like in real life.” he said while his brothers watched. He wrapped the white nylon rope around and between her breasts pulling them tight together and making them stand up swollen and full.

Even this did not wake Goldi all the way up though she did begin to squirm a little in her sleep. The youngest brother said that he wondered if anything was going to wake her up so he reached out and pinched one of her nipples, she squirmed again but did not wake up.

The middle brother was standing on the other side so he pinched her other nipple at the same time. Goldi wiggled and sighed but did not wake up.

The oldest brother said “I am getting bored, lets see what we can do before she wakes up.” and proceeded to use his big thick fingers to tease her pussy lips and finding it soaking wet he slid one finger in her. “Oh man this bitch fulya escort is tight.” he told his brothers who were still teasing her nipples.

He began to work a second finger into her and his brothers began to really start twisting hard on her nipples as she arched her back. He worked in a third meaty finger and brushed her clit with his thumb and she began to moan and shake and have an orgasm which finally woke her up.

Goldi looked up, dazed, to see three large handsome men standing around the bed which she suddenly realized she was tied spread eagle to. Her breasts felt strange and looking down she saw they were swollen and wrapped up in white nylon rope. Looking closer at the men Goldi realized that each of them had on a pair of shorts which were tented with huge erections. She licked her lips and asked what the hell was going on.

The oldest Bare told her to be quite, that she had broken into their cabin and now they were going to take the damage out in trade of her body as he began to work his fingers into her again. Instead of being terrified, like they thought she would be, Goldi began to squirm and wiggle around and moan loudly.

The brothers looked at each other and decided what the hell they might as well take advantage of this crazy chick and see how much fun they could have.

“We should each take turns with her, each of us gets to choose something they want to do with her and we will go by age, and if that doesn’t agree with you we can go by size and ability to knock your asses out.” said the oldest, the biggest and the strongest of the brothers.

His brothers reluctantly agreed.

Oldest brother sent little brother downstairs to find more rope while he had middle brother untie Goldi’s hands and feet and then tie her hands together over her head, the entire time Goldi was squirming and trying to rub up against middle brother. Oldest brother had his brothers bring Goldi to him, tied one end of the rope to her bound wrists and then took the other end and threw it over the beam that ran across the middle of the room and tied it off to the four poster bed so that Goldi was standing almost on tiptoes with her hands over her head.

Oldest brother walked around Goldi, pinching and slapping her breasts and ass for a minute than got behind her and lifted his hand and brought it down on her beautiful round ass. Goldi let out a yelp as the blow landed, yenibosna escort followed quickly by more, each of them getting harder and harder and knocking her forward only to swing back into the path of his hands. The entire time Oldest brother lectured her about being a willful brat with no respect for other people’s things.

Goldi moaned and howled but since they were in a cabin made of large solid trees and pretty far away from anyone the brothers just let her carry on until tears began to fall down her face. “Well bitch do you want me to stop?” demanded oldest brother.

“No.” wailed Goldi, “Please use me, do anything to me just someone please fuck me, touch me, anything, please.”

Middle brother stepped forward and said, “It is my turn.” and untied Goldi from the overhead rope and pushed her over the edge of the high bed. He could feel the heat coming off of Goldi’s ass as he roughly slid his cock into her soaking cunt.

Goldi began to shake and quiver as middle brother slammed his large cock into her tight pussy until she finally had orgasm after orgasm, her pussy pulsing around his cock. Finally he came inside of her and pulling out, turned her around and pushed her to her knees. “Suck your juice off my cock bitch.” he demanded.

Goldi greedily licked then sucked their mixed juices off of his slightly softening cock until she had all of it clean.

“That looks good.” said little brother, “but those tits look amazing too.” Little brother pulled Goldi to her feet and pushed her onto the lower bed and standing over her he lifted his hand and brought it down on her bound breast. Goldi arched her back and moaned loudly. “You like that don’t you?” he asked as he struck the nipples on both of them over and over until they glowed red then he climbed onto her belly and slid his cock between her swollen hot breasts.

Little brother, being far from little, grabbed Goldi by the hair and told her to suck on the end of his cock as it came out of the top of her bound breasts. He thrust his hard cock between her hot swollen breasts and finally came in her mouth in gushes of hot cum. “Swallow it.” he demanded pushing himself deeper into her mouth. Goldi drank down every drop.

As the day wore on the brothers fucked, struck and sucked on various parts of Goldi’s lush body while she moaned, begged and screamed for more. Finally the Brothers were exhausted but Goldi was still raring to go so they tied her to the four poster bed to keep her off of them while they slept.

The next morning they woke up to find Goldi still tied to the bed and were shocked when they offered to let her go and instead she fell to her knees and begged them to let her serve them.

That is how Goldislut came to live with the three Bare brothers as their full time slave.

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