Pull

Her nipples throbbed. Tight clamps grasped them, then were strung through pulleys  to weights that hung wholly supported by those tender fleshy bits. The weights wobbled as she trembled.

If she leaned back, the weights lifted, resting on a thin lip of wood that jutted out from the wall. If she leaned back, the turbo-sized dildo was pressed deeply into her anus. It stretched her painfully, the girth of it feeling as though it would rip her ass to shreds.

She had to have relief on her aching tits. They felt aflame with hurt, curls of heat screaming up from the pinched tips, encircling her breasts with fiery licks of pain. Eyes clenched tightly, she slowly eased back until the ache in her nipples eased, only to cry out at the invasion of her throbbing asshole.

Trying to breathe through the pain, she felt the coil of a different heat in her cunt. It was obscene that this turned her on. Her body quivered, and sweat slicked her skin. If she opened her eyes to thin slits, she could see Him sitting in the chair across from her, a small smile upon his face. It was so secretly gleeful, so smug  that he’d put her in this predicament and knew she hated it. And knew she loved it.  She kept her eyes shut tightly, unwilling to watch him watching her. Her ass screamed. She leaned forward. At the movement, the release of tension on her aching anus, and the sudden shock as the weights fell from their support caused her pussy juice to spatter onto her thighs, and even more humiliatingly,  onto the floor beneath her.

She thought she had mastered the timing though, balancing the pain in ass and nipples in equal measure. The creak of the chair warned her of His rising.  Eyes opened to watch him warily.

He took two straps from the side table, and scooped up the big vibe. It only took a minute for him to attach the vibe to her leg, pressing it hard against her cunt, and use the straps to hold it securely in place. Turning it on, he moved towards the chair, then stopped.

“Oh, I almost forgot these.”

Reaching into his pocket, he slipped out two more weights. He added them to the ones already killing her nipples, then slapped her ass, making her jolt, and set the weights to swinging wildly.

“AAArgh!” she yelled.

Laughing, he sat back in the chair to watch as she came hard, then smiled as she continued the cycle of pain, orgasm, pain. Soon he would fuck her. But for now he sat enjoying  the elemental force of gravity’s pull.

Hurts…So Much, So Good

I am an aching, bruised mess.

My hair is mussed. Tied into tangles and knots it will take a deep conditioning to untangle. Seriously…it was soooo bad when he finally let me up off the bed, that I looked like I’d been electrocuted! Long hair scrubbed all over the damn bed makes for one powerful, somewhat terrifying case of bedhead!

My body hurts, just about everyplace you can imagine. (And I know you all have wonderful imaginations!)

He spanked me long and hard. I felt the tension ease away, even as the pain built. He spanked my ass multiple times through the day, then later near the end of playtime, my pussy.

And oh, the pussy smacking. It was brutal and hard. The harder he attacked my cunt, the closer the intense need grew. I came just from that. He called me a cunt over it, and laughed. It still surprised him that I orgasm from having my pussy beaten. And not once. Twice, my pervie peeps.

Well, actually. Uhm…(maybe he’s right and I really AM  cunt?!)

Okay, three times.

And after that third time, he pushed me down, pinning me and roughly finger fucked me to many, many more orgasms. Until I moaned at the slightest touch on my poor battered girl bits.

And then he did it again.

Now i sit, a slut filled with pain- from throbbing cunt to aching ass, from battered tits to pinched and bitten arms and shoulders. Exhausted. Used up. Made to cum too many times to count, made to scream and cry and whimper as he slapped the fuckity fuck right out of me.

Okay, he tried. I was still impudent, wildly silly, and at times, a growly beast with him. (To his utter delight!)

There are many stories to tell, but for now, this very tired, very sore slut is going to bed.

And smiling.

 

 

 

Tied into Submission

I –for all that I want it–haven’t been very submissive. We talk like friends, he and I, with laughter and teasing. We’re not in a rut, but both of us realize that the tasking and rules of times gone by don’t seem to be a part of our current dynamic.

It’s fine, really. I’m busy. He’s busy.

But it leaves me feeling nervous for playtime. Can I submit? Do I want to submit? Do I want the pain? Can I take it? This, after 8 1/2 years. *wry grin* Yeah. Still to question if I can.

But he is wise in the ways of nilla, and circumvents all that. He physically overpowers me, first off. He uses that tone of voice, and there is nothing I can do but obey. (And yes, he’s not asking me to kill someone in the next room…I’m talking playime here, not falling into the throws of Stockholm syndrome!) He touches me, sometimes softly, sometimes harshly and I hold my breath waiting for which it will be.

He cuffs my wrists to my thighs, then later rigs this system where I am further secured to crossed lines in the middle of the bed. I literally can. Not. Move. My legs won’t fully close, my hands are useless, and I’m existing only for his pleasure.

When he notes this he is quite pleased with himself, and sets to pinching my ass and swatting it. He uses his hands and that blasted olive wood spoon I gave him. It hurts and I’m whimpering and humping my ass up and down the 2 inches it’ll move…and he laughs.

I can’t get away.

I *must* submit to him, to whatever he’s got planned in his devious mind. I come a million times. He finger fucks me, and torments with my Hitachi. (OMFG, OMFG). I whimper and cry and beg.

He ignores me.

(Maybe he laughs, too. I can’t remember huge chunks of that time, other than the Hitachi and orgasms and trying to breathe.)

And I realize, as I lay there unable to defend myself, unable to stop him, that while he forced my submission, I am now wholeheartedly giving it up to him.

Take me.

Fuck me.

Use me.

Hurt me.

Until I’m floating, I’m happy, I’m hurting.

By taking my body, he has freed my mind.

 

 

Tease

He slapped her exposed pussy. Though she jolted, she could not move to close her legs. The grunt she uttered from gagged lips made him smile, though she couldn’t see that with the thick blindfold.

She was helpless, totally at his mercy.

“You will enjoy this. For a while, anyway. The price of standing in that window every night and disrobing. Such a slut, and sluts get what they deserve. You knew someone would be watching, and that someone was me. Lucky for you that I’m a merciful Dom.”

He paused, stroking her thigh with one gloved hand. He watched the trail of goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.

“Mostly, anyway. A Dom with only a touch of sadism.”

His hand moved up to her breast, cupping it, the leather cool. Her nipple kernelled at his touch.

“Of course, sadism being sadism, it might sound like a wash, right? I don’t mind a dash of pain…your pain of course…but to use your body against itself? Even better. When pleasure becomes an overwhelming sensation, that’s sadism at its finest.”

His fingers closed over the hard nipple. Again she whimpered behind the gag. Her fingers tightened, but bound together at the wrist, her hands could do nothing. It was those helpless little gestures that tightened his cock.

Preparations for his entertainment were almost as exciting as the actual events. Almost. The preparation could not compare, really, to the scent of warm cunt as he rubbed along her slit, the leather parting and exposing the pink pearl there. Sniffing the air, his head drew close, his nose very nearly touching her as he inhaled the rich fragrance. The touch of his tongue against the petals of her pussy had her tugging, fruitlessly of course, at her bindings. He watched for a moment, the stress and strain of her muscles and skin, the play of the white rope holding her fast. He licked her. Head tossing, grunting, buttocks clenching; none of that stopped his tongue from lashing along her forcibly exposed center. None of that stopped her body from responding.

His hand, still encased in black leather, struck her firmly.

“I believe a pussy that’s been –shall we say ‘handled’–firmly will give me the reaction that I’m seeking.”

What followed was a series of smacks. Firm, hard, right on target, her clit and lips began to flush with the blows, and become sensitive.

“Your clit is so grateful for my attention. Look at it there, rising up and begging for more.”

His fingers flicked against the sensitive bit. Her sounds maddened his cock. He’d put a condom on under his underwear. Best to not leave any forensic evidence around these days. He felt the slickness, the heat from his shaft, like weeping steel. Taking a moment to calm his raging hard-on, he moved away from the bed, reaching for the big rubber cock.

With no preamble, he shoved it deep into her pussy. The accompanying whinny of protest from her almost made him come; only closing his eyes and thinking of sticking his dick into a bucket of ice water helped. Her cunt pushed it back out again, as expected. In his bag he dug out the roll of duct tape, making lots of noise for her to figure out what was coming next. Everyone knew the sound of that thick tape releasing from the roll as it was pulled away, and the sound of it being torn free. Shoving the dildo firmly, he taped across her thighs, holding it deep inside of her.

He looked at her tits, not terribly huge, but her nipples. Man, they were perfection. It took only a minute to peg her left one with the clothes pin. It took longer to attach the other 25 in a spiral around her breast, and she was whining a pretty tune when he was done. On her right breast, he attached a breast pump, the kind that would suck her nipple and about half of her tit inside it–and keep on sucking until he turned it off.

“You’ll have to tell me which is more painful. I might be willing to stop. Remember, I’m not a totally sadistic Dom.”

There was a smile in the words; even blindfolded it was clearly evident.

Sweat broke out as pain began to take its toll on her. When he turned the Hitachi on and pressed it against her vulva, the sudden rush of fluid soaking the bed was almost more than his cock could take. The air was drenched with the scent of her juice. He ached with the need to fall on her, the need to fuck her. Holding the big vibe, he slipped it up and around her soaked slit, making certain that it pressed against the dildo filling her. She’d feel that vibration deep inside her belly.

She came in a second rush of fluid, the milky come spattering her thighs, the white bulb that continued to grind against her vulnerable pussy. The grunts and growls were sexy; enticing and intoxicating. Reaching over, he slapped at the clothes pins on her tit, jostling them and making her whine louder.

“I know. That hurt didn’t it? But look at you, slut. You just came again.”

He tugged at the cone sucking on her other tit. More whining, and the silver trail of tears leaking out from the sides of the blindfold, sliding down her temples to be lost in her hair.

“I did tell you that you could tell me which hurt worst, didn’t I? Shame on me. I lied.”

The Hitachi pressed harder against her pussy, grinding along the slippery skin as if he were sanding wood. The gush of fluid was lessened somewhat this time, but it appeared that she was coming every few minutes now. His cock kicked up a notch, a lurch in his pants that made him imagine steam leaking from between the teeth of his zipper. Bracing the Hitachi on the mattress, he retrieved his short crop.

She yelped at the first smack as one clothes pin snapped off of her tit and landed on the bed beside her. Looking at her pussy, he saw the tell-tale trail of white oozing around the dildo. He repeated the slap, the snap and fall of the pegs until her tit was bruised — and peg-free. He gave the squished nipple a few quick slaps; her whimpers of distress was echoed in the throb from his balls.

Holding the vibe steady on her pussy, he tugged the duct tape off of her thighs, releasing the dildo. It slipped from her cunt with a gush of cum. He flicked off the Hitachi, then released her other tit from the sucker. It was swollen and reddened, the nipple engorged. Just for fun he slapped that one with the crop as well.

Working methodically, he packed his gear, setting his bag by the door. He untied her right foot, then her left. She had no kick left, laying totally drained. Smiling at the punny metaphor, he freed her left hand, then slipped off the gag. When she woke from her orgasm-overloaded sleep, she’d easily be able to free her other hand.

He popped off the lights on his way out the door.

 

 

 

Winning Ticket

“Ticket 363872,” called  Le Domme from the middle of the main stage. “C’mon folks, check your ticket stubs and don’t be shy!”

There was a commotion from down front and a cute puppy girl raised her paw.

“C’mon down, pup,” called Leda. To the amusement of the audience, the girl dropped to all fours and did indeed scamper down to the stage, then up the steps to claim her prize. Leda turned to the table and took the certificate to the girl, putting it in her mouth with an admonishment to take it to her master, pronto. She followed that with a quick swat of the crop on the girls rump.

“Puppy lisa and her owner have won a lovely meal at Mystique,” Leda announced, and the crowd applauded. “And next,” she gestured with her crop to her boy to bring the fishbowl forward again. Withdrawing another ticket the process was repeated several times. Prizes were awarded, and each time Serenity breathed a sigh of relief. She sat in jeans and a tee-shirt, looking by far the strangest in her street clothing than any of the others in their assorted “fringe elements” attire. She hadn’t known that her entry ticket to Tops ‘n bottoms would include a lottery ticket, which had been pressed into her hand by an insistent “nun” at the door. She wasn’t even sure why she still kept it, really. Or why she had come to the club in the first place.

Okay that was a lie. She knew why. She was just like these people. Just–you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Despite the feeling of “I kind of fit here” she also felt a bit weird, too. She had never done anything so overtly “open” before. Reading, masturbating, ad on those websites with a hopeful kind of feeling of “maybe”, sure. But go out? To a BDSM club? Well that kind of took balls, didn’t it?

“Number 363553…I KNOW you’re out there. Everyone got a ticket, so don’t be shy…”

With something akin to horror Serenity realized that the winning ticket was hers. Oh. Shit. She rose, though she wasn’t sure how as her legs wobbled terribly.

“There’s our winner!” announced Leda, and all eyes turned to her. Serenity wanted to melt into the floor, but instead found herself walking. She made it to the stage steps, then stood helplessly wondering how to lift her foot and take the next step.

“Need help?” a soft voice spoke just behind her. The honeyed tones sent a shiver up her spine. She shook her head, but already his hand was on her elbow. His voice whispered against her left lobe. “Step. That’s right. Good girl. Another…” and somehow she was up on the stage standing next to the imposing form of Le Domme. Her tits were amazing, almost spilling over the top of the pleather corset that was so shiny it looked liquid. Serenity didn’t mean to stare at them but there they were, right there in her face.

“Congratulations dear, you won the grand prize.”

“I-I did?”

“An evening with Master Roarke, you lucky slut you.” Lena turned to the man who held Serenity’s elbow still, gave a regal nod of her head to him. “I’m given to understand that part of the prize is a public demonstration of orgasm overload?”

He leaned forward to speak into the proffered mic.

“Yes indeed. We need some time to prepare, and we’ll see you all on Stage B in an  hour or so.”

The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping, even as Serenity’s mouth opened and closed. There had to be someone else who could claim this prize. She was a newbie. She wasn’t up for…

“Come along, little girl, we have much to do in an hour…”

His grasp on her elbow tightened as he led her backstage.

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

 

She’d argued. Cajoled. Whined a tad, which she wasn’t really proud of. Yet here she was, clad only in a slippery, thin miniskirt, and a sash of fabric across her breasts. All but naked, and soon to be so in a very public setting.

Yet, didn’t part of her simply thrill at this? That he had taken full control of the situation of her, had been a turn on of epic proportions. Fear, that slippery beast, had turned her pussy into a molten hotspot. Her nipples rose yet again as she tried to figure out what was going to happen when that curtain rose, and how she would react to it.

“There is no thinking, little one.”

The guy was a fucking mind reader. Another turn on, and yet so aggravating too!

“There is only feeling and going along for the ride. You have a safeword, though you won’t need it. This is new, exciting, yes?” At her nod he continued.

“I’m going to push you, push past where you think your boundaries are. For your first public scene (and didn’t she hate that he said “first” as if implying that there would be more?) I want to you cease to think and merely experience. Relax while you can.” He smiled at her, the quick grin making her belly tremble. She knew nothing about him. Was he a sadist? A sensualist? A combination? Would she hate this? What if she had one of those freeze-ups and couldn’t perform as he wanted her to?

There was no more time for worries. His gesture was impatient, and she roused herself from her tiny pity/fear party and moved over to where he stood. She saw the length of black silk in his hand and almost balked. Somehow, docility flowed through her as he affixed the blindfold over her eyes.

“Stealing your vision…but enhancing your experience,” he said. She relaxed as his hands moved over her hair, wrapping the long length around her eyes twice before tying it off.

“Let the fun begin,” he said taking her wrist and lifting it over her head. There was a snap, the chill of metal against her skin, as first one, then the other of her hands were contained. Her feet were kicked apart, secured, her back resting on a wooden frame of some sort. There was an odd scraping sound, a cough, and the sudden realization that the curtains had opened, that everyone there was looking at her.

And then he tugged on the fabric covering her tits, her skirt, and she was naked before the crowd.