Author’s note: There is nothing complicated to say here.
This is not a story, with development and plot.
This is a character sketch, because the central defining point (no spoilers) of her personality is one that rather appeals to me.
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He stripped me naked and hung me face-first against the wall, cuffs on my ankles and wrists stretching me tight in a cross shape, the chains holding me barely even clanking when I tested them.
I gritted my teeth, steeling myself for a fight.
I knew his kind. I knew he didn’t just want me to feel pain, and to use me. He wanted me to submit. He wanted me to beg him for it, to sop his pathologic little damaged ego by saying Yes, Sir, You’re so sexy I can’t help myself, and You never really needed to kidnap and rap me, honest.
It was a pattern – this basement dungeon, with cold bare stone walls and floor and a floating benchmark to one side; his all-black clothes, with army-surplus boots and leather gloves. I had seen it all before.
Most of the time it had been contributed, a setup established for the cameras with paid actors with fit bodies and enhanced tits performing their parts and presenting their token resistance and their real pain, choreographed to tell a little story before she started cumming.
I heard him move around behind me, picking things up, putting them down, the swish of a whip through the air.
Great. More little toys. He had spent too long on the internet.
I heard him walk towards me but I couldn’t turn my head to see him.
I braced myself.
“Are you going to submit to me?”
Well, that was fucking predictable.
I jerked against the chains holding me face-first to the wall, but none of them gave. “Get fucked,” I spat over my shoulder at him.
“No,” he replied evenly, “That’s your job.”
Suddenly a lash landed hard across my arse, making me squeal in pain and surprise, no matter how much I was expecting it.
“Pussy,” Ispat at him when I recovered.
He lashed me again, and I couldn’t hold back from shrieking at that one, either.
“Are you going to submit?”
“Fuck off!”
He began to lash me over and over, setting into a rhythm as spears of pain lanced from my arse with each impact.
My body tried to burrow into the wall to get away, but the brickwork just won on my skin and sand-papered my nipples.
To my shame I felt that pain from my breasts go straight to my groin, and as I got wet the whipping began to get me wetter. I groaned, and this time he heard the desire in my voice.
Suddenly the lash didn’t land, and I heard him step closer. Then his hand forced its way between my thighs and two fingers pushed roughly inside me. I tried to clench against him, but I was too wet and he was too strong.
My body responded even as my mind revolted.
“Dickless fuck,” I spat over my shoulder at him, unable to move, unable to try and get away.
“We’ll get to that later,” he said milkly as he added a third finger, which made me bite my lip and sent a shudder right through me.
My body was betraying me and becoming his and there was nothing I could do, naked and bound, to prevent any abuse he wanted to do to me.
“You’re going to cum,” he said, still milk.
“Fuck off!”
“Do you want to cum?” His fingers didn’t slow down their pumping.
“Nooooooo,” I groaned, desperately trying to hold onto my core of self-control.
“Don’t lie to me, slut,” he chided me. “Do you want to cum?”
“Ooooh, ffffuuuckk youuuuuu.”
“Do you want to cum?”
“Ngggggg oh god yes, I want to cum!” His three relentless fingers inside me had finally broken me.
“Ask properly, slut,” he said, the insult calling up reserves I didn’t realize I had.
“Ooooh, ffuck youuuuu.”
“Ask properly, slut.”
The reserves didn’t last long.
“Oh please, Master let me cum!”
“I don’t think that was respectful enough, you filthy whore.”
Suddenly I believed the insults, the degradation. I was a filthy whore. I wasn’t being respectful enough. I deserve to be punished. But I was desperate for release.
“I’m sorry, Master! Please make me cum!”
“Will you give me your arse?”
Deep inside me, a last reserve of stubbornness flared into life.
“Never!”
“Will you give me your arse?”
He wasn’t slowing down, or speeding up, or changing anything. He was just finger-fucking me tiredly, and my body had broken so badly my mind was hanging by a thread.
“Oooooohhhhhhhh gooooooddddddddd.”
“Will you give me your arse, you pathetic, needy little bitch?”
That was it. I had lost. “Yes! I’ll give you my arse, please, Master, let me cum!”
“I want a little more than that, you filthy fucking whore.”
He had me now. There was nothing he could do that was so bad I would rebel. It all fed the dirty, eager little cum slut submissive bitch inside me.
“Please, Master, take my arse!”
“Cum, bitch.”
I came, and I screamed, and I screamed for a long time while he kept on pumping me, then I stopped almost as if stranged when he abruptly pulled out of me and left me smeared on the wall, gasping for breath.
He untied my wrists and my throat and I slid bonelessly down the wall to sprayl at the bottom, staring upwards sightlessly.
“Hands and knees,” he commanded and with a struggle I obeyed. He grabbed my hair and pulled me towards the centre of the room, making me scramble painfully after him to prevent my hair being pulled out by the roots.
He flung me on the floor and I sprayed there, panting and quiescent as he stepped away, stepped back, spread my butt cheats with one hand and then pushed a thick, knobbed dildo inside me.
I groaned, eyes squeezing shut, hands curling against the floor.
He worked it deep inside my arse and stepped away again.
I lay panting, whimpering with the way the dildo was filling me but not moving, not vibrating, not satisfying me.
I heard him fumble, then a zip, and a small sun flared inside me as I imagined him pulling out of his cock. I still couldn’t lift my head to see.
I heard him step in front of me, then I heard the creak of leather and realized there must be a chair I hadn’t even noticed.
“Hands and knees, bitch,” he said, cold and hard suddenly, and I was desperately, pathetically happy to oblige as I scrapbled weakly at the floor, pushed myself up with shaking arms, still not seeing until he grabbed my hair, yanked up squeeze tears of pain from my eyes and making me clench inside.
“Open your eyes, bitch,” he said and I did, finding myself staring directly at his thick, short but heavy and veined cock.
I clenched and went weak inside, and moaned as his hard flesh filled my sight and my mind.
He pushed it down, pointing it at my face but not accurately my lips, and said “Get to it, you fucking cock-whore.”
I opened my mouth wide and swallowed him eagerly, pulling him straight to the back of my throat.
He leaned forwards and grabbed my nose, squeezing my nostrils shut and not letting me pull back until I was beginning to go dizzy and nearly gagging around his cock.
I pulled back as soon as he released me, gasping for air, dimly hearing him say “Don’t fucking stop, bitch,” in menuing tones.
I swallowed him immediately, using all the skill I had as I worked back and forwards, sucking and squeezing and rubbing him with my tongue until his breathing changed and he said raggedly “Pull back and keep your mouth open, slut.”
I opened my mouth wide as I stared adoringly at the engorged head just inches in front of my face as he grabbed it, wanked a couple of times and came with a groan, spurting thick ropes of hot, white cum into my face, hitting my nose and cheer and some landing in my mouth before the rest went over my chin.
I started desperately licking up whoatever my tongue could reach and then my mind shattered again and I screamed as the dildo inside my arse started violently buzzing.
“Don’t move,” he said. The only movement I was capable of would be if my arms collapsed and I fell on the floor.
He reached underneath me and I felt the cruel bite of metal teeth close upon one nipple, making me shriek. When he left go, the nipple was jerked downwards by a weight attached to the clamp.
Another clamp bit into my other nipple, and then jerked that painfully down as well. I was crying, but burning at the same time.
Then he grabbed my hair and yanked. I shrieked again and only barely managed to stumble after him until he throw me towards a bed. “Get up,” he said harshly.
I managed, somehow, but barely had time to brace myself before he lined up and pushed inside me, stretching my cunt and moving the still buzzing dildo in my arse.
“Do you want this, slut?” he taunted me, breathlessly, as he fucked me.
“Yes Master I want you to fuck me!”
“Do you want to cum again, bitch?”
“Yes please let me cum, Master!” His fucking was making my entire body move, which made the weights on my nipples swing back and forwards and turned my breasts into burning centres of pain, but that only made me wetter.
“If you cum before I give you permission I’m going to fucking hurt you, bitch!”
“Yes, Masssssssterrrrrrr!”
I wasn’t sure if I could hold on, but my desire to obey was almost stronger than my fear of punishment.
He began to gasp, trying to hold off himself.
My traitorous body, without being told, clenched hard around him and his breath left his body as though he had been punched, followed by his cum.
“Cum, bitch!” he gasped, raggedly. My body responded almost instantly.
#
He pulled the dildo out of my arse, unclipped the nipple clamps and let me collapse on the bed.
After a while, my breathing returned to normal and I lazily reached outfor the bottle of water. He handed it to me, then sat up and stared at me as I drank.
“I don’t believe you,” he said at last.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Do you really turn just like that, when you’re aroused enough?”
“When I’m dominated enough,” I corrected him. “I go into sub-space in a big way, but if you hadn’t tied me so well I’d have Beaten you senseless, first. It’s almost a split personality.”
A memory came to mind, making me smile. “I had a boyfriend,” i said musingly,” who had a sound-proofed garage done up as a full dungeon. We had an agreement – he would drug me, strip me, tie me, and wait for me to wake up. Then he’d punishment me until I turned, then he’d fuck my arse until he was bored, then he’d strap me to a machine and make me cum until I was unconscious. It took hours, all up.”
The thought was making me wet again and my hips unconsciously rolled.
I noticed the gleam in his eye as he reached for my damp pussy.
I grabbed his hand, twisted, driving him over with pain as his eyes flashed started and he gasped with shock.
I straddled him, kneeing on his back while I held his wrist in a painful lock, and reached back between his legs, finding his scrotum, circling it with finger and thumb and squeeze and stretching.
“You’ve missed your chance,” I hissed into his suddenly frightened eyes. “I’m Mistress now. Ever had a hard leather cock up your arse, bitch-boy?”
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