by Linnea May
“Not perfect, because I don’t get to see your perfect tits,” he comments, as I position myself. “But it will have to do for right now, toy.”
I cast him a look that lets him know I have nothing in the way of a reply to that, and he lets it pass.
It’s a rather small piece of furniture, and even with my short body, it allows me to put my tied-up wrists over the edge at the top while still having my ass exposed on the other end. I’m pretty sure this is no coincidence, because this way he can fuck me from both sides, if that’s his wish. He positions my knees to his liking before he comes around to the front, never letting go of the rope binding my hands.
He looks at me as if to confirm that I’m okay, but he doesn’t say a word. My eyes follow him when he falls to his knees in front of me and quickly fastens the rope around the legs of the furniture. It’s obvious that he’s very experienced with rope, and I like that about him. I’ve always enjoyed the sight of a man who knows what he’s doing.
Even though his skills could mean a lot of trouble for me.
The thought sends chills down my spine. The realization comes back to me in flashes, reminding me of the danger I’m in, but only for as long as I allow my mind to go there. I let out a desperate sigh, causing him to cast me a questioning look.
“I want to enjoy this,” I say. “I want to, because I really need this. But I’m scared...”
My voice fails me once again, and I’m capable of nothing but a pleading gaze when he reaches for my face, squeezing my cheeks with one hand tilting my head back to face him. The look on his face remains neutral, unreadable - until his lips turn up into a subtle smile.
“Good,” he says simply.
He gets back up on his feet. “It’ll be easier for you if you don’t fight me.”
Easier. I never wanted easy. I’m not a brat, but I’ve always enjoyed teasingly fighting back to whatever was asked of me. Punishment didn’t come with the same sweet taste if I didn’t deserve it.
With him, things are different. I don’t know how far he’s willing to go, I don’t know his limits, or if he has any, and he might cross my hard limits because he doesn’t even know what they are.
Yes, he could do that. But somehow I don’t think he would intentionally. It strikes me as odd that I still trust him in this regard, but the way he held back when I begged him not to slap my face gave me confidence. He listened then because he could tell that he was about to do something wrong. Back then I thought it was because he remembered the contract he signed, but now that I know he’s not the one who signed it, I’m inclined to think he can sense when he’s going too far, when things are getting too real for me.
On the other hand, isn’t that exactly what he wants? Something real?
“Toy,” he calls to me. He’s now standing behind me. I didn’t even notice that he’d moved.
“Yes,” I breathe, trying to look back over my shoulder, but I can’t bend far enough with my hands tied to the legs of the bondage horse.
I yelp in surprise when his hand lands on my behind with a sudden slap.
“Yes, master,” I correct myself.
“Defiance calls for correction,” he says, and I jerk again when I can feel something cold on my upper thigh, just where my shorts end. “You know that, right?”
“Yes, master,” I reply, wondering what he’s about to do.
I gasp when he moves the cold metallic item along my skin, and I realize that it’s a pair of scissors. For a moment I’m consumed by panic, panic that he might want to hurt me.
No blood.
No cuts.
But he’s not using the scissors on my skin. Instead, he uses them to cut my shorts, the most luxurious pair of shorts I’ve ever worn, and he just cuts them as if it was nothing. To him, it probably isn’t.
He moves the scissors along my skin, cutting the fabric all the way from bottom to top in various places, until he’s able to rip them apart and expose my ass in front of him.
“Now,” he says, throwing the pieces of fabric aside.
“I know you can take this. You have been spanked before, haven’t you, toy?”
I mentally sigh in relief. Spanking. I can not only take that, I might actually enjoy it.
“Yes, I have,” I respond, shivering with anticipation when I hear him unbuckling his belt. A classic.
“Good, you have nothing to fear then, have you?”
Before I can give him a reply, I feel the first blow cutting across my skin. I shriek out in pain, instantly wondering why I thought I’d enjoy this.
I’m whimpering, and it’s only been one slap.
“This will be easy enough for you, toy,” he says in a hoarse voice. “But I don’t want to make this too easy for you, so there’s one thing you’ll have to keep in mind. If you don’t... well, you’re going to be in bigger trouble than before.”
I nod, even though I don’t know what I’m agreeing to, because he hasn’t specified his demand yet.
“This belt will land on your pretty ass as often as I deem adequate,” he continues. “You can scream, you can cry, but there are two things you’re forbidden to do.”
He pauses, filling the silence with another burning hit to my ass. I don’t cry out this time, but instead I endure the pain in tense silence.
“First, you’re not allowed to move,” he elaborates. “And second, you’re not allowed to get wet.”
My eyes widen in shock, and I can’t stop myself from letting out a helpless moan.
That’s impossible.
There’s no way I’ll be able to oblige his second command.
20
Ruby
He doesn’t check my status for a long time. After every strike with the belt, I fear that his hand might wander between my legs to see if I’m obeying his demand.
I know I’m not.
I can’t help it. It’s a natural response to the kind of pain he’s inflicting upon me. There are no tears yet, but my body tenses up every time he hits me with the belt, always meeting a slightly different spot on my ass than the time before. Once he has covered the entire area, he returns to the beginning, inflicting more agony on an already sore spot.
The pain is intense, almost blinding. It’s molten iron. A reminder that I am alive.
After a while, I no longer suppress my anguished cries, filling the room with unbridled shrieks that no one but him will ever hear. I don’t even notice that I started crying until I taste the trickling salty liquid on my lips. The taste awakes me from a slumber, one that provides the comfort I need during sessions like this. Some call it subspace, but I’ve always called it warmth, simple warmth. It’s a kind of vertigo that helps my mind elude the agony at hand, and escorts me to a place where there’s no pain, only the throbbing left by every impact. That hot pulsation, the one that carries me off to a place to which I have no access unless there’s a man to help me get there.
I crave this feeling and the surrender that comes with it. I almost feel sorry for him, for my captor, because I know that whatever he’s feeling right now, it can’t be nowhere close to as good as what I’m experiencing.
And that’s exactly the problem.
I know my core is dripping wet. I know it before he finally moves his hand there, his gentle touch clashing with the torment from before. My skin is glowing and I moan in anguish when he graces my tortured ass, as his fingers part my velvety lips, revealing that I’ve been anything but a good girl.
“Oh, my sweet little toy,” he whispers, his voice underlined with an ominous threat. “You’re being punished, and yet here you are, disobeying your master again.”
I groan with relish when he begins playing with my clit, sending sparks of pleasure along my spine. I know this won’t end the way I want it to, but I choose to enjoy the bliss while it lasts. He draws circles around my swollen nub, inserting one finger, then two. I know I’m only making things worse for myself when I start grinding against his hand, eager for more.
My heart skips a be
at when I hear him unzipping his pants. Just a moment later, his hand is replaced with the familiar tip of his massive cock, parting my lips just the slightest bit as he teases me.
I groan, moving my hips back to invite him in, and to my surprise, he follows my call. A smile blossoms on my face, breaking the crusts of dried-up tears as he shoves himself inside of me in one brute thrust, his hands digging into the flesh around my hips as he begins fucking me like a stallion. His pelvis rams against my tortured skin with each onslaught of his steely girth, causing me to gasp in a blend of agony and ecstasy.
“Such a greedy little slut,” he hisses behind me, changing the rhythm of his patient thrusts to the unyielding pace of a hungry beast. He lifts me up, my skin parting from the sticky leather as he takes me with such ferocity that I’m almost shoved off the horse at the other end. I suppress my groans, because they drown out the sweet sound of his frantic breathing behind me. Upsurges in bliss are taking over my core, making it impossible to believe that this is still a punishment. I know I would’ve begged for him to fuck me, just like this, if he hadn’t done it on his own. I would’ve begged and promised to do anything, because that is what I do when I’m beaten into the place of warmth that I call my own, a place filled with nothing but desire for him to be buried inside me.
I gasp, already so close to a climax that I know I’m not allowed to have. As good as this feels, it’s still a punishment, and I know he won’t let me reach my peak so easily.
I’m proven right just a moment later when he leaves me empty, my wet center helplessly clenching around nothingness while he walks around the bondage horse to the other end, ignoring my moans of protest. He grabs a fistful of my hair at the back of my head and tilts my head back, so that I’m faced with his hardness right in front of my face, my own juices glistening on his tip.
“Open your mouth.”
I do it, reluctantly, and as soon as my lips part, he plunges between them. If you’d ask me in a sober moment, I’d probably say that I don’t like tasting myself on a man. There’s something so filthy about this, a kind of humiliation that has a vile place all its own.
He doesn’t let me suck on him, but instead fucks my mouth almost as violently as he fucked my pussy just a few moments ago. I cough, suppressing my gagging reflex as best as I can while he pistons his length into my throat until the tip scales the back of it. He leaves it there for a while, pushing and shoving and watching as I choke on his cock, my eyes filling with tears.
Release. I take in big gulps of air when he lets me, knowing this is only to prepare me for the next round. I’m delirious, instinctively opening my mouth and practically begging for his cock to be thrust inside every time he gives me a few moments to breathe.
His breathing is ratcheting out of control, almost as if he’s hyperventilating. I know he’s close. He will come very soon, and I’m still hoping for mercy, hoping for him to let me come as well, preferably while I’m wrapped around his cock.
But he’s too strict for that. I grimace in pain when he pulls my face back at the roots of my hair, tilting my head all the way back into my neck as he rubs his length in front of me.
“Look at me,” he hisses with frantic, panting breaths. “Look at me, toy!”
My eyes wander up to his. I blink desperately to clear my blurred vision, just in time to see his handsome face as he climaxes, shooting ribbon after ribbon of hot cum across my face while I cast him a smile of accomplishment.
21
Loran
There’s hope illuminating her eyes. Hope that I won’t deny her a much needed orgasm, now that I’ve had my fun.
But it wouldn’t be punishment if I permitted her to come. I told her I would punish her, and while the spanking might have come across as punishment, never once did I think it would suffice. I knew she’d get off on it. She didn’t have to tell me that she’s into these things, her body speaks louder and more clearly than any words could.
“Lick it up,” I tell her calmly, pointing to the drops of cum pooling at the corner of her mouth. She does as she’s told, tossing me a naughty smile, and then closing her eyes when she swallows my jizz with contented flourish.
That little minx.
“You’re not coming today, toy,” I say. “No matter what kind of tricks you try to play on me.”
Her eyes flicker with understanding. “I’m not playing any tricks on you.”
I cast her a severe look, my eyebrows arching with warning. Next, I unfasten the rope so that I can help her get up, enjoying the view of her shaking like a young deer just learning to walk. She’s a natural beauty, and I love seeing her like this, bared, used, and dripping with my cum. I wish I had the time to fill her every hole with it today, but I have other commitments that will force me to leave the house soon.
She’s standing next to me, supporting herself up against the bondage horse. She peers at me through widened eyes, her expression almost appearing innocent, except fort he remains of dried cum dotting her cheeks.
“Turn around,” I demand. “Show me your ass.”
A shy smile scurries across her face as she readily obeys my demand. Her ass exhibits different shades of red, each hue appearing as wide stripes that mark both of her luscious cheeks. I was careful not to draw blood, but the marks are clearly visible, and they will be for a few more days.
“This will remind you not to defy me.”
She turns around then, delivering a smile that suggests she’s about to object.
“No,” she says, proving my suspicion. “It will only remind me of the good part.”
She pauses, biting her lower lip as she ponders whether it’s smart to continue speaking. I jut my chin forward, beckoning her to finish saying whatever it is she has on her mind.
“Your punishment was much worse than that,” she says eventually. “It’s the agony of not coming after I’ve been teased to no end, after I’ve felt your cock inside me - that’s what will remind me not to defy you.”
I nod, taking a step toward her until I’m near enough to close my arms around her. She’s in the know about everything, and yet she chooses to enjoy the things inflicted upon her, seeking to get as much out of it herself as she can.
I clearly failed at picking a suitable victim for what I originally had in mind.
Real fear, real submission. What does that even mean? I’m beginning to question my scheme, but I’m in too deep now to see a way out of it. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. For all that I don’t know, I do know one thing: I’m not letting her go, because I’m nowhere near done with her.
“You need to take a shower,” I announce.
Her eyes rest on mine for a moment, as if she expects me to say something else, but when I remain silent. she turns and walks toward the bathroom. The red stripes painted across her ass dance seductively as she sways her hips. I just came on her beautiful face, but I crave her as much as if that had never happened. I check the time on my Rolex. There’s not much time left before I need to leave, but it could be just enough.
I hear her starting the shower. Without thinking twice, I rid myself of my shirt and pants. Stroking my throbbing cock, my steps lead me towards the sound of the running water and rising steam. She doesn’t even look surprised when I appear next to her, turning her wet and naked body around so she’s facing the wall. Eagerly hollowing her back, she looks over her shoulder, warm water streaming down her face, cleansing away the remains from our earlier exploit.
“You want me again?” she asks, reaching one hand behind her to spread her ass cheeks apart. “Which hole, master?”
I growl. This is only because I didn’t let her come. She’s acting this way because her mind is blinded by lust.
Nevertheless, she shouldn’t be this eager, not after all I’ve told her.
“You’re not scared at all, are you?” I say, my voice muffled by the water streaming down on us. I reach for the faucet next to her and change the setting to rain. The dribbling flow will encompass us in t
he water’s warmth without the disruptive noise of a regular shower stream.
“After all I’ve told you, after all I’ve done to you, you stand here and offer me everything, willingly giving your body to a man who took you without - as you said - having the right to do so.”
Her eyelashes flutter and she evades me for a moment, looking as if she’s been caught doing something wrong.
“What do you want me to do?” she asks. “You want me to scream at you? Fight you? Kick you? Just so you can tie me up again, maybe even leave me alone on that stretching bank for all eternity?”
Her eyes wander back up to mine, searching for an answer I’m not willing—maybe not even able—to give her.
“Yes, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” she adds. “You want me desperate, you want me scared. You want me to act out against your wishes.”
My eyes narrow scarily as I start closing in on her. She sighs when my thick, long, hard length pokes roughly into her back, and I don’t stop her from reaching for it, closing her small hand around it. I suppress a moan when she starts stroking me, directing the tip between her ass cheeks as she hollows her spine even more, leaning back into me with yearning.
“I’m sorry,” she breathes huskily. “But I’ve always been a bad actress. I can’t play the role of a poor victim who’s appalled at you for doing this to me, because that’s not who I am. That’s not how I feel.”
“You’re naive,” I snap. “This is not one of your jobs. I didn’t buy you. If I wanted an eager slave who was willing to serve me just like that, offering herself to me off-handedly because there’s payment at the end - then I would’ve gone to the agency like I have before.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. It seems that aspect wasn’t clear to her until now, the fact that I was actually a former client of the agency she works for.
“You’re right, this is different,” she agrees. “It’s real, just like you wanted. I’m giving you nothing else but the real me.”