I was breathing hard, as hard as I could with the gag biting into my lip. I could feel the table’s cold leather beneath my back, pressing the flesh where the straps bound my thighs and ankles. My arms were raised above me, my legs splayed open, vulnerable and exposed.
I had wanted this, right?
Damn, I had begged him for this. “Please Daddy,” I could still remember the desperation in my voice. “Take me further,” I had said. This man owned me. Owned me in a way no man had ever come close to. Usually, he was so caring, attentive, looking after my every need. But he knew. Hell, we both knew… there was a darkness in my soul, something unknown, hovering just below the surface, something dark and primal that I had been too frightened to look at for more than just a fleeting moment. Until now.
I knew he was there, I could feel his presence, hear the slight catch in his breathing but I couldn’t see him, for the mask that I wore cut out all possible light. I heard his footsteps now as he slowly circled the chair, the spikes of his cowboy boots clicking on the tiled floor. He came no closer and time slowed for me, slowed to the beat of a pulsing heart, to the throb of an aching need. The world turned on its axis and still, I was here, bound, gagged and splayed for his pleasure.
My mind turned in on itself. What was he going to do? The thrill of the unknown sent a tremor coursing through me and then the air parted softly as the leather tip of a riding crop met the soft skin of my belly caressing it gently. That first touch jolted my nervous system, firing synapses. As the crop was dragged along my flesh, my breasts hardened and puckered at the leather’s soft kiss, it circled and teased for what seemed like an eternity. I felt my wetness grow and I tried to arch my back in a desperate attempt to direct the crop downwards towards by aching sex, but the leather cuffs allowed no resistance. I received a tap with the crop for my trouble, a delicious sting of pain mingling with the sweet pleasure of anticipation.
The crop trailed down my inner thighs to my toes, my sex was molten fire and as the crop returned its journey, I desperately wanted to thrust my hips forward, to welcome the crop to my desperate pussy, but it continued up my body, past my neck, moving gently over my full, red lips. Then stopped.
I waited.
Quiet ensued, I could hear no movement and the air was motionless; still and timeless as I strained to listen but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. I felt my wetness drip, trickling down between the cheeks of my ass. Time stood still, an eternity since the leather tip crossed my mouth.
Did I do something wrong? Anticipation knocked against my ribs. Simultaneously, I heard and felt the sharp crack as the crop struck sharply at my left nipple, the sound of the leather echoing as pain rippled through me, the sting, the burn of my flesh made my throat open in a scream only to be muffled by the ball of the gag in my mouth. I breathed in through my nose in an attempt to dull the pain, manage it in some way. Seconds later, my right nipple was struck with the same intensity. “Fuck,” my mind screamed and was in freefall as it grasped at nothing that could save it from this onslaught. Bound, gagged and blindfolded; I was going nowhere. Even my screams were bound from escape. But this is what I wanted, wasn’t it? My mind attempted to process this information as the air in the room felt thick and heavy.
Silence.
I tried to focus on my breathing, my heart pounded in my chest, breath ragged. Fear’s icy leather gloves squeezed at my guts, I tried to cry out, “Daddy where are you?”
When the silence was finally broken, his voice had a darkness to it. “What? I am sorry I did not hear you, speak up.” My left nipple was struck hard, I tried to twist and buck in the chair. “What is this?” I just had time to process what he has said as the crop struck my right nipple again. My cries were muffled as I feel the tip of the crop rest on my belly followed by silence. Where would the next blow come? Fear and exhilaration pounded through me, my nipples stung as I began to feel a welt rising but to my surprise I feel my wetness grow, seeping between my legs in a hot, feverous rush.
Breathe, I reminded myself. My body flinched as I felt his touch, but this was gentle, not what I had expected, Mentally prepared for more pain I was surprised to feel his firm fingers running through my wet lips with the lightest of touches then in over my clit, “Mmmm,” a soft, slow murmur escaped his lips, “so my little slut likes pain I see?” I felt the lightest of taps from the crop across my belly. “I did not know that Master’s little slut enjoyed such attention or I would have brought you these sensations before.” Those words make my mind race, “slut,” and “Master.” Words I never before heard him say before but they rang as true and pure as a crystal bell and at that moment, I knew, I saw the truth. Master had always been with me, hidden in shadows of my heart. Hold on to him tight, Baby Girl, I said to myself as my Master began tending to his wilful, little slut.
He placed a hand just above my mound, then quickly slid a finger inside me, I grabbed hold desperate for his touch, he slid another finger inside. The feeling of those fingers inside my flooded cunt was such sweet relief, I needed to feel something inside of me, I was so close to cumming but when he slid his fingers out, they stayed out for what felt like minutes, my sex screamed for him, but the mounting orgasm fell back. Then, finally, he entered me again, in and out in a slow, delicious finger fuck before peeling back my folds to reveal the blossoming bud within. I groaned and a shiver of anticipation ran through me just before he and pinched my swollen clit, the pain travelled through my core but then was followed by three sweet, slow finger strokes from clit to cunt.
After each stroke, the tip of his finger slid just inside me. I felt my orgasm swell and rise; I began to relax into it but then, just as the tide began to peak, pain exploded in my left breast with three hard strikes. As my body registered the shock and stinging pain, my right breast was also stuck three times. I felt the air part and heard the swish of the crop as he struck me just above the sex. Then a sharp blow met its mark between my open and vulnerable lips, striking my aching clit. To my horror, I came hard, my body convulsing, screaming into the gag as my sweet juices gushed forth. That exquisite sensation of pain and pleasure finally gave me some release from the mounting tension and I rode out the orgasmic wave, lost to this room, the pain and myself as pleasure exploded, radiating an orgasmic fallout through my entire body. The aftershocks lingered but when I came back to myself I was met by quiet.
A stillness had returned to the room, soft and menacing as my cum dripped and pooled onto the leather beneath me.
His voice, hard-edged and cold was close by me. His whispers seeping through the darkness and into my ear, “Did I say you could cum, you fucking slut?” My mind raced for an apology, I wanted to beg for his forgiveness, shit I would have prostrated myself on the floor before his feet in apology if I could move. But I could not. “Sluts only cum when given permission,” he said, “and you are Master’s slut.”
That word, so cheap and foul from anyone else’s mouth, but isn’t this is what I asked for? This was what I had subconsciously craved and Daddy knew me well enough to know this. Everything he did was for me. I would never stand for anyone calling me a slut but tonight, from his lips, at his hand; I embrace the new title and role.
“I am Masters slut,” I said simply to myself.
However as the silence folded itself around me once more, the fear returned, creeping in through the cracks in my mind. I knew my Master would and must punish me for cumming without permission. Hell, even Daddy would spank me for that, but I had a feeling Master was more intolerant than Daddy.
So when fingers began to glide through my creamy folds, I was surprised yet again. “Mmm, a shame to waste this,” words like honey, soft and sweet. Master’s firm hands wrapped around my thighs, spreading me wider, pulling my thighs harder into the table. His tongue, quick and nimble began to lick at my folds, devouring my cum. My clit, still engorged, quivered in ecstasy at the delicate flicks and licks it received. My orgasm was explosive, it came so quickly. As Master’s tongue sucked at my sex, devouring it, I became feather and air, rising into the pleasure, pushing the pain away. But Master wasn’t finished, as I was cumming he dug deeper, his tongue in my cunt licking my core then back to my clit as his three fingers rammed into me, pushing in, stretching my sex until I came again, quick and hard, quivering in a pool of my own nectar.
“I see you have not learned a damn thing, my slut,” anger resonated around the room.
I knew that trying to twist my body away was futile, so I drew a deep breath through my nostrils and exhaled as the assault began. My attempt to control the pain was futile as Master began to cane the exposed underside of my ass, each strike hit harder than the one previously. My ass was burning and part of my mind wanting to cry out, “Please, Daddy, make it stop, make the pain go away.” But then, there was another part of me, some connection between mind and body that screamed, “ More Master, more. My flesh is yours. “I lost count of the strikes, overwhelmed yet excited, I felt my wetness seep beneath me once more. Never before have I felt so alive, so turned on. How could this be?
As the unmistakable sting of the flogger burned into the flesh on my soft, inner thighs, I felt the welts starting to form on my flesh, pain overcome reason as I twisted in a futile attempt to escape, my bonds digging into my flesh as I tried to move. My exposed body seemed more vulnerable than ever. You asked for this Lil Red, didn’t you? The voice inside my head whispered between the blows. This was your desire, wasn’t it? Don’t you feel it? Your body craving this, loving this, Master’s complete control of your flesh, even in pain… I felt the next orgasm rising, begging to be freed. He is owning you Lil Red; embrace the freedom he is giving you…
The flogging stopped and as I tried to gain breath I heard footsteps. My heart began to pound. What was coming next? I only had time to register my thoughts before clamps were put onto my hard nipples, making them sting, a thin chain running between them rested on my flesh. “Since you like cumming so much, let’s see how you handle this.” His words were accompanied by the distinct sound of a vibrator buzzing.
The head of the Hitachi wand was pushed firmly against my clit. “Cum you slut,” Master ordered. The combination of his command and the relentless stimulation placed against my engorged clit meant I came instantly. Within seconds I was cumming again, Master’s voice repeating the command over and over, “Cum you slut, cum you slut,” in an erotic mantra that freed my mind and body.
Over and over I responded as his commands spurred me on, the vibrations burning through my sex until I was desperate to feel no more. “No, Daddy, no more,” I tried to beg in vain.
When I thought I could stand it no longer, he forced me to cum again, my mind lost in sensation and words, no longer attached to my body but flying free somewhere. My body was having one hell of a time, but I felt as though my mind and my soul were cumming too. I lost count of these new orgasms. Six? Seven? Ten? I was a quivering mess of soaking cum and sweat when he stopped. My mind was unable to think clearly, my clit was swollen and bruised, my flesh sore from the struggle and the restraints that bound me.
Cool relief came in the form of an ice cube placed on my clit, soothing as it melted. Despite everything, my body still responded to his touch, exhausted as it was and even though he had put me through this ordeal I still craved to be fucked by him. I felt my Master’s palm push down just above my sex, a finger resting so gently on my clit as the chain between my nipples tightened. Desire fluttered and stirred within me.
“Let’s see if you have learned anything, my slut?”
His words filled me with joy, I had earned my title, I had become master’s slut and I burned with pride. I was proud to be my Master’s slut, to be for his use, for I knew that in serving him I was ultimately serving myself. My Master, whom I loved so deeply, could take anything from me because he gave so much in return, he had earned my submission with love and devotion and this new role was ultimately fulfilling something dark and wanton within me, as much as it served his needs.
With his broad palm pressing down on me and dexterous fingers dancing on my clit and as worn out as I felt, his touch was still so stimulating. He worked my clit knowing orgasm was near, “Hold it, hold it…” he commanded.
I had to dig into what little energy I had left, to focus everything I had on not cumming. His finger taunted and teased and I teetered on the edge, wanting to jump, to fly yet equally desperate not to fall or fail. He gave a tug on the chain, yanking my nipples.
“Cum now you slut.”
His words were my cue and sweet relief flooded through me in an orgasm so deep and profound I saw stars in heaven. I had cum as he had ordered. Now I knew he would release me. But no… I felt the flick of his tongue against my clit and he dug deep into my core, a thumb circling my clit, my folds. My pelvis jerked beneath him, straining to feel his tongue within me.
“Hold,’ he cried and I forced myself to go beyond this place, to rise above the exquisite torture as he orchestrated my arousal. Time stretched as he prolonged the desperate need within me, the burning agony until, he clicked his fingers, “Now,” and my cum streamed into his mouth. He drank as if possessed of an unquenchable thirst, again working my sex into a frenzied agony of desire that peaked once more into a trembling need for release. This time, he just clicked his fingers and I came, groaning viscerally from deep within me, a dark and primal place that he had unlocked.
I had given my Master ownership of my orgasms a long time ago, I always asked permission to cum and was not allowed to touch myself without his permission. I liked these rules; they gave me a deeper connection with my Master and made my orgasms stronger and more profound knowing they were for him. However, this experience, or was it training? Whatever it was, he had taken his ownership of my orgasms to a new level.
A strong hand stroke my forehead, drenched in sweat, “I praise you,“ he said as my heart swelled with love, “You are such a good, little slut,” his praises may have been simple words but they made me feel so good, they were reassuring and comforting. I was on the edge of exhaustion, my body felt floppy, my mind strangely euphoric. So this is what I had been craving, what I had begged for. “You have been so good my little slut, you deserve a reward.” Master’s words were playful then and I relaxed.
His iron, hard cock entered my soaked pussy with a deep thrust, stretching my cunt quickly, his hands on my belly, his strokes powerful, fast and deep. Thrusting into me he fucked my aching body so well that I could barely remember my name, I was no longer mind but pure cunt and sensation, powerful love filled me as he rammed his cock into me filling me to the tip and beyond. As he came deep inside me, hot jets spurting from him, I screamed in pleasure as my own cum mingled with his, we rode a tide of pleasure that was deep and profound, uniting us on a sensory plane of love and lust.
As he pulled out of me, he murmured in my ear, “You are such a good, little slut, you have pleased your Master very much today.” My body sagged as a feeling of complete relief filled me, I had done well. This was enough.
I heard his footsteps recede and I was left alone, my body beyond exhaustion, my mind flying free like a caged bird suddenly finding its wings. This is what I had craved, his ownership, his praise and it was if my mind sang from the treetops, “I am free. I am free.” Never before had I cum on command. Now I knew his ownership of me was complete and I feel at once liberated and at peace. More than that, something had clicked in my mind and I knew that by deciding when I came, he was giving me a gift. My not cumming was a form of submission which pleased him, him deciding that I was to cum was also an act of submission on my part. My orgasms were truly for him I could see that now.
Footsteps echoed his return and I felt him free my bindings, but my body was too tired to respond. The nipple clamps were removed and the blood flowed freely in them once more. Gently, he removed the gag from my mouth and I gasped for air. Lastly, he took off the blindfold, my eyes were bleary and unfocused as my head drifted towards my chin; I no longer had the strength to hold it up.
Strong arms scooped up my lifeless body, he carried me in his arms, murmuring to me all the way until he placed me gently in a warm bath. “Baby, Girl…” he began as he soaped my skin, “Master is gone, Daddy is here to care for you.”