He came in the door, bending to greet the dogs before standing to his full height to meet my eyes. He took his time looking me up and down, appreciating my tanned legs and short sundress. He closed the gap between us in three steps, leaning into me so I could feel his breath when he said “Upstairs, slowly.”
I walked slowly up the stairs in front of him while he lifted my skirt and watched; panties aren’t allowed unless he specifically requests them. When I almost got to the top stair, he pulled on my hair to make me stop. He pressed the small of my back to bend me over. I put my hands on the stairs in front of me and arched my back to present my ass to him like a good slut. His silent assessment made my body tense as I tried to anticipate his next move- am I going to feel a slap? A tongue? A finger? At long last he moved in behind me and started tonguing my ass. I shivered as I felt the gentle pressure in my most private area, darting in and out of my hole to coax a moan. His fingers entered my pussy as his tongue continued its assault, striking an unrelenting rhythm until my orgasm ungracefully buckled my knees. He laughed, but still offered no words.
He spun me around by my hips, sitting me on the top stair. His hands on my knees spread my legs wide, giving him access to lick cum from the full length of my slit. He then grabbed my chin, tilted my head up, and spit it in my mouth. The third word he said to me since his arrival was “Swallow.”
Then to the bedroom- I had asked (via prior text) to start gentle- my nerves were so frayed, I was worried about going right into the hard stuff. He massaged me head to toe, working to relax my muscles before giving my ass a good and gentle fingering. There were no more words, which had an intimidating effect- am I pleasing him? What is happening? What is he thinking? Not knowing drives me crazy.
Once I had relaxed around his fingers in my ass, he flipped me over and forced my legs roughly apart. He licked my pussy, starting slow and then holding me down as I squirmed.
His tongue teased my clit before his mouth wrapped around it to suck an orgasm out of me. He forced me to cum I don’t know how many times, still not saying a word- just looking at me with a challenge, knowing I would obey- cum. He then used his fingers on my clit, moving from forcing to edging. He continued slowly and steadily, bringing me right to the brink before letting off, smirking at my squirms and unrelenting pleas for relief.
As someone who is very rarely told no in her day to day life, being edged is a special kind of torture. The loss of that particular control- control over my own pleasure- hits me especially hard. The stages of grief at such a loss become strikingly evident, and I suppose somewhat entertaining or gratifying for this particular partner. During this session (and many others), he observed:
Denial: Yah right- he did not seriously just stop- but I asked permission and everything! Okay, he’s had his fun…he won’t do it again…I’ve been so good!
Anger: Okay, seriously- fuck off. Please just let me cum- this isn’t fair!
Bargaining: Please Sir, I’ll do anything! Please just let me cum…I’ll be such a good girl…
Depression: Sir, it hurts- please, please let me cum. I know that he won’t, but I have to keep asking…eventually maybe he will take pity on me…
Acceptance. Acceptance comes with tears. My body is craving release so badly, that it gets it in another way. My mind has let go of the need for control- I have totally surrendered my fate, and my orgasm, to him. My pleading, no protesting- just quiet, tearful acceptance.
He doesn’t always go for the tears, but this time he did- he edged and edged me until he got the tears- because he knew that I needed it. Once he broke me like that, with me exhausted and submitted, things escalated.
He fucked my face until I was covered in spit down to my tits. He then hog tied me, and put a plug in my ass, collar on my neck, clothespins on my nipples, and ball gag in my mouth. He fucked me with a dildo so hard that I thought I would puke. With the combination of dildo and butt plug I just kept cumming- so far past exhaustion. I couldn’t even think about my orgasm, because my body and mind were just trying to hold on. He eventually switched to using his cock, and came inside me while pulling on the collar just hard enough for me to have to think about it.
After that he untied my arms, and turned gentle again. I thought it was (blessedly, finally) time for the cool down, but he grabbed my Satisfyer (side note: the closest thing to a purely physical orgasm that I have ever experienced- run, don’t walk to buy one of these), and he put it directly on my very hard clit (that hadn’t cum in a while). I screamed and tried to buck away but he had left my legs tied and was holding them down and open, completely overpowering me. I literally just had to take it, and it felt so good and so painful I didn’t know what to do. Just as I was about to go over the edge, he fucking edged me. I had had so much pain and pleasure by that point that I actually swore at him, which I never ever do. I was so angry and defeated.
That earned me 20 paddles, and he hit hard, bringing me close to yellow. I was openly screaming each time his hand made contact, but my anger and frustration at him for edging me during what I thought was going to be cool down was fuelling me to stubbornly keep taking it. When he was finished, and I could tell impressed, he informed me that it wasn’t going to be over until my clit came. He made me turn back over and open my legs on my own volition, which was so much worse than him forcing me because I knew I was opening myself up to the torture. He edged me over and over again, and because of the targeted toy on the tip of my exposed clit, every time he pressed it down it felt like I was going to pass out. He finally let me cum and I screamed like I was being murdered. He left it on until I cried.
By the end I was a crying, fragile, exhausted, fetal positioned mess, which is exactly what I wanted to be.
It was finally the weekend. The rest of the week had passed without incident, with Julia and Katie resuming their usual patterns of work and school, sharing the odd meal or TV show together. Jack had been over a few times, and aside from finding herself blushing every time he looked at her, Julia found interactions with him to be fairly normal. When she got home from class Friday night, Katie was dressed again in her latex catsuit, finishing her makeup. “He will be here in about 45 minutes, get dressed. I put your outfit on your bed,” she said, leaving no room for questions or conversation.
Julia went straight to her room, seeing a new latex outfit on her bed with a note from Sir:
“Be a good slave and put this on…I like you in latex. Don’t forget the eyeliner, and a little something extra- in your favourite colour if I remember correctly.” -Sir
She touched the smooth material, this time a skater dress. Two additional pieces of fabric accompanied it, and it took her a minute to realize that they were thigh highs. His final gift was a tube of lipstick. With some difficulty Julia got dressed, taking extra care to emphasize her eyeliner before finishing with her new lipstick shade- a deep purple. It isn’t a colour she would ever wear, but somehow with her head-to-toe latex it worked.
When Mistress came into her room, she inspected her outfit and approved. Mistress braided her slave’s dark hair into pigtails and finished her with the ball gag before leading her out to the living room to an awaiting Sir.
Julia had been so focused on getting ready that she hadn’t heard Sir arrive. He was sitting on the couch, completely relaxed. When she realized that she was late, her heart fluttered a bit in panic- while timeliness wasn’t an explicit rule, it felt disrespectful to him for her not to be ready. Her suspicions were confirmed when he said “You’re late, slave.”
Julia nodded, the ball gag preventing her from speaking, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. “Oh, that’s right- the slave’s mouth always has to be full,” he teased, dipping his finger into Julia’s mouth before turning his attention to Mistress. “Why wasn’t the cumslut ready, pet?”
“I’m sorry, Master,” Mistress said evenly, “I lost track of time. It was my fault, and I know that I need to be punished.” Sir got up from the couch, removing his belt as he bent Mistress over the couch. “Slave, count,” he instructed before delivering the first crack. He didn’t speak as he delivered 20 lashes with his belt; Julia jumped a little with each blow, but Mistress barely moved, other than a faint whimper at the end. When Julia got to the count of 20, Sir stopped, gently caressing Mistress’s red ass and telling her it was over. She stood, and he kissed her deeply, an intimacy that had Julia looking away to give them privacy.
When they were done, their attention turned back to Julia. “it’s her turn,” Sir said, handing Mistress his belt as she bent Julia over the couch. Julia gulped, confident that she would need to use a safe word. She felt Mistress’s hand on her back, steadying her on the couch. “Count, slave,” Sir said again, and Julia worked to ground herself before the first crack.
The belt stung differently than the paddle, its impact sharper but shallower. Julia yelped at the first few blows, but eventually tried to calm her reactions to more closely emulate Mistress’s. She somewhat succeeded, focusing on the mental exercise of grounding herself between blows, using the counts to stay focused. She tried to think of them in counts of five…just five more…five more…until finally she heard herself say twenty through her gag. She hadn’t realized she was crying; a few silent tears escaped her eyes as she took her punishment. Mistress wiped them away, gently stroking her cheek while Sir traced his fingers along the lines left by his belt. “These are going to look very nice tomorrow,” he said appreciatively.
Julia was encouraged by his praise, the difficulty of the pain that she had just endured replaced by the warmth of his affection. She felt a solidarity with Mistress for having experienced the same punishment, even though she understood they were not equals. “We are going to continue the slave training tonight,” Sir instructed both women. “Pet, take the slave to our room and tie her to the bed, with her head off the side- I am going to use her throat while you work on her pussy.”
Julia obediently followed Mistress to the bed, laying sideways on the bed with her head hanging off the side. She laid still as Mistress secured her ankles and wrists, leaving her starfished on the bed. Julia pulled against her restraints, testing their tight limits. She was truly helpless, but now along with the ripple of nervousness there was also excitement. She could hear murmurs as Sir and Mistress strategized, feeling her pussy dampen in anticipation. Her mouth was watering, the ball gag preventing her from swallowing.
She felt Sir’s hands on her face, gently positioning her head as he laid his cock on her cheek. At the same time, Mistress sat between her spread legs, running fingernails up Julia’s thighs. Julia squirmed in anticipation, willing them both to start the training and put her out of the misery of waiting. “Have you ever been edged, slave?” Mistress asked, her fingers moving ever closer to Julia’s dripping pussy. Sir removed her gag so that she could answer, wiping the trailing spit onto his cock. “No, Mistress,” Julia replied obediently. “I am going to tease your pussy…no matter what, you are not permitted to cum until I tell you to, do you understand?”
“Yes Mistress,” was the last thing that Julia was permitted to say before her mouth was filled with cock. Sir slid into her mouth slowly, not reaching her throat. He let her mouth work him, Julia setting the pace for once. As she got used to the angle of having him above her, her head slightly hanging off of the bed, Mistress spread the lips of her pussy and blew on her clit. Julia moaned on Sir’s cock, already wanting to cum. Mistress explored her pussy with the intuition of a woman, taking note of each shiver and moan. Julia felt like she was going to explode, and tried to focus harder on Sir’s cock so as not to cum without permission.
She was starting to feel like she had things under control until she heard a buzzing between her legs. When Mistress touched the wand to her clit, she yelped, suddenly teetering on the edge of a well-built orgasm. “Please Mistress,” she begged urgently, her mouth full of cock. “What, slave?” Mistress asked, an edge to her voice. “Please may I cum for you,” Julia breathed, gargling on Sir’s cock as she squirmed against her restraints. Just as Julia was about to fall over the edge, Mistress took the wand away; the disappointment was crushing, and soon gave way to frustration. What the fuck? Why did she stop? Julia’s eyes widened in shock, and both Sir and Mistress laughed. “That, dear slave, is edging. Do you like it?” Sir teased, making Julia feel embarrassed and incredibly needy. “No,” Julia whined, as Sir thrust his cock to the back of her throat with a little more force. When Julia gagged on Sir’s cock, Mistress put the vibe back onto her clit. She moaned in pleasure- and relief- as the sensation refilled her body, her attention split between her needy clit and Sir’s unrelenting cock. Each sensation prevented her from fully focusing on the other, leaving Julia in some sort of sexual purgatory. Each time she got close to cumming, Mistress took the wand away- and Sir thrust further into her throat, his access perfect with the angle of her head off of the bed. Julia was being utterly used and abused, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
The edging was beginning to frustrate Julia; her desperation to cum began to consume her, weakening her resistance to Sir’s unrelenting assault on her throat. She was just trying to hold on, breathing at Sir’s pace, tears and spit covering her face while Mistress ruthlessly tortured her pussy. Every now and then she would moan an incoherent “Please Mistress,” but it was as if no one could hear her. They were doing with her exactly as they like, with no regard for her needs.
Finally Sir grabbed her by the hair, bringing her consciousness back into the moment. Her pussy and her face were both soaked, her body more need than human. “I think she’s ready to cum, pet,” Sir said, leaving Julia feeling gratitude toward him for taking pity on her. “But Master, I am having so much fun!” Mistress pouted, expertly gliding the wand up and down Julia’s clit, pressing the vibration deep into the tissue. “Do you want it, slave?”
Sir removed his cock from Julia’s mouth long enough for her to stumble over some words. “Yes Mistress…please…please let me cum…I will do anything, please!” Julia begged, each word coming out more frantic than the last. Sir’s cock went back down her throat, interrupting her pleas. Mistress continued her torture, tears in Julia’s eyes forming from frustration, not just Sir’s cock. He let her breathe again, telling her to beg for it. “Please…Sir…Mistress…please let me cum. I’ll be good, I’ll be a good slave for you…please…help me…” Julia’s emotions at the surface, panic setting in at the threat of being edged before. Sir left his cock out of her mouth, rounding the bed to stand behind Mistress. They had a whispered conversation, and Julia heard Mistress moan as Sir entered her. She heard the slap of flesh on flesh, and knew that Sir was slamming his spit-soaked cock into Mistress as she tortured Julia’s pussy. The decadence of the moment was almost too much to bear. Finally, Julia felt the pressure of the wand increase, and screamed when she heard Mistress order her to cum. “Cum, slut, cum for me,” she ordered, and Julia was unceremoniously launched off the edge.
She remained in a free fall for what felt like hours, all of the build-up and torture and stimulation exploding inside her, more sensation than her body could handle. She freely screamed as the pleasure took her over, ripping through her spit and cum soaked body, threatening to never end. She had no idea how long she had been cumming for; she couldn’t feel the restraints biting into her wrists and ankles, or hear Mistress’s increased moans as Sir ravaged her pussy- all she could feel- all she was- was her vibrating clit. Mistress held the wand on her until she felt pain, torn between the pleasure of orgasm and the overstimulation of having been edged. Her screams became whimpers, quieting just enough to hear Mistress cry out, her own orgasm taking hold and mercifully forcing her to remove the wand.
Julia was a shell of her former self, laying limp in the restraints. They could have done absolutely anything to her in that moment, and she might not even have known. As it happened, Sir came back to her face just long enough to cover her in cum; Julia didn’t even react, opening her mouth obediently and taking his hot spray. He rubbed the excess into her face, completely destroying what little remained of her makeup. “So pretty,” he said affectionately, and in that moment Julia felt…beautiful.
When Jack entered, Katie quickly moved to stand beside Julia’s kneeling form. Jack brought a reality to the scenario that had eluded Julia, and in the moment he walked over to them she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or cry or run or cum- luckily her outfit and predicament prevented all of those things, so she didn’t have to choose. Her only option was to stay kneeling and follow the rules.
Mistress instantly shed her assertive demeanour as Sir approached her; Julia watched him get close to her, smelling her flaming red hair before kissing her deeply. Julia got lost in their intimacy and in their kiss before remembering the rule about eye contact- she quickly averted her eyes, feeling proud and relieved that she didn’t get caught.
“I missed my cockwhore,” Sir murmured to Mistress as he licked her lips, his hands skimming her latex-clad body. Julia could feel his gaze on her before he moved toward her, her heart hammering in her chest so hard that she was sure he could see it through her latex crop top. “And what do we have here?” his familiar voice turning silky, touching Julia somewhere deep inside. Julia focused on looking straight ahead as he stroked her hair, then her cheek. “She looks beautiful,” he said to Mistress, clearly praising her work as much as Julia’s appearance. Julia tried to swallow, the ball gag preventing efficacy. Julia allowed herself to lean into Sir’s touch on her cheek until his caress became a sting as he slapped her.
Shock rang with Julia’s ears as the sting brought tears to her eyes. It wasn’t that it was particularly painful; the surprise and sensation hit Julia harder than the slap. She became acutely aware of her vulnerability, panic bubbling up over the butterflies. Julia took a deep centering breath, not wanting to let her nerves show. She squared her shoulders, keeping her gaze lowered at the floor.
“Stand, slave,” Sir said simply. Julia stood with some difficulty, towering in her heels. She did her best to adjust her skirt, fighting the urge to pull her skin-tight top down. Sir ran his hands over her neck, shoulders, arms, smoothly skimming the latex. When his fingers touched the skin on her stomach she shivered, the tension in her body becoming too much. He ran his hands over her skirt, reaching her thighs before his fingers trailed up in between her parted legs. He dipped a finger between her lips, smirking at how wet she was. She stifled a moan as he removed his finger, the first bit of spit escaping the ball gag at the corner of her mouth. He dragged his wet finger through her drool, scoping it up before depositing it in Mistress’s open mouth. “How does she taste, cockwhore?” he asked, allowing Mistress to suck Julia off his fingers. “She tastes sweet, Master,” Mistress purred, licking his fingers clean. “Good,” he said, grabbing her by the hair and tilting her chin up, “taste more.”
Before Julia could understand what was happening, she felt hands on her shoulders, pressing her back onto the couch. Julia stumbled, skirt sliding up as she landed. She looked up to see the flash of her best friend…Mistress’s…hair between her legs, just before she felt tongue. Julia moaned in surprise and pleasure as Mistress’s tongue slowly circled her clit, working her into an absolute frenzy. A distant part of her mind was reeling at the thought of Katie between her legs, not to mention Jack watching, but the rest of her was focused on Mistress and Sir, and the fireworks exploding between her legs. Spit was beginning to pool around the ball gag and trickle down her chin, but Julia barely noticed as she focused on falling over the edge. She screamed as she came, the bundle of nerves, doubt, and tension that she had accrued over the past couple of days evaporating entirely.
She felt Mistress’s fingers inside her as she continued to gently lick her clit, each time coaxing another shiver out of Julia’s electrified body. Mistress wiped her wet fingers on Julia’s ball, spinning it into her mouth so that she tasted herself.
She had completely forgotten about Sir’s presence until she heard him say “Very good girls,” coming over to stroke Mistress’s hair. “You did very well, cockwhore, but our slave broke a rule.” His voice grew an edge, just as Mistress’s had earlier when they were alone. Julia searched her brain for where she could have gone wrong, panic seeping into her post-orgasmic haze. “You are going to need to train her to be a better slave,” Sir said to Mistress, the two of them talking as if Julia wasn’t in the room with her legs still spread around another woman. “Yes, Master,” Mistress said earnestly, “may I punish her?”
The word punish cleared the rest of Julia’s mind, bliss being replaced by the chill of fear when she heard sir say “Yes, pet, go ahead.” Julia was again instructed to stand, and then obediently and apprehensively followed Mistress back to her room. She noticed that various implements had been laid out on the dresser, having just a split second to glance at the leather and wood before being instructed to kneel on her hands and knees on the bed.
She heard Mistress and Sir discussing which implement to use, and quickly deduced what was coming next. “When you disobey the rules, you will be punished,” Sir said matter-of-factly. “Do you understand, slave?”
“Yesssssssirh,” Julia garbled through her ball gag, watching a trail of spit drip from her mouth to the sheets below her. “Okay, pet, teach her.”
SLAP.
Julia wasn’t ready for the first hit, and she didn’t realize how strong Mistress was- it looks like that gym time was paying off. She screamed in surprise, the paddle leaving a sting where her skirt brushed her skin. “Make her count,” Sir said passively from somewhere behind Julia. Mistress pressed the paddle gently to Julia’s ass, rubbing her through her latex skirt. “We are going to ten, slave, given that this is only your first punishment. Count each one, and say ‘Thank you Mistress’, or I will start back at one…understand?”
“YesssMisssthresss…onungh…thaunkyouMissthresss.”
SLAP.
Mistress hit Julia in the exact same place as the first one, sending needles of pain through her ass. As she gave her second count and thank you, she felt Mistress’s hand on her ass, rubbing in the pins and needles and flipping her skirt up out of the way to expose her ass. The third slap came on the other cheek, distributing the sizzle in her skin. She diligently counted each slap, out of an eagerness to impress and a fear of further punishment. By the time she reached a garbled “Tenh”, her ass was stinging and hot, and there was a growing puddle of drool underneath her. She felt both Mistress’s and Sir’s hands on her ass, bringing the sting alive as they tenderly massaged her skin. “You did very well, slave,” Sir said, before loudly kissing Mistress as they both rubbed Julia’s tender ass.
Eventually they stood Julia up, and Sir instructed Mistress to clean Julia’s spit covered face with her tongue. Mistress licked up the excess spit, bringing her tongue to Sir’s mouth before swallowing. He kissed her as he undid his belt, allowing her to take over removing his pants. Julia wasn’t sure where to look when his hard cock sprang free of his boxer briefs, feeling her face blush to match her painted lips. “Now because slave had such a great time watching us the other day, she is going to watch you serve my cock again. You are going to teach her to live up to her cumslut name,” Sir instructed, pressing Mistress’s shoulders to lower her to the ground. “Kneel beside her slave, and pay attention.”
Julia obeyed, eyes widening as Mistress easily took Sir into her mouth, swallowing him into her throat. She coughed once, bringing her head back to lick him shaft to tip before forcing him back down. Julia watched in awe, appreciating the front row seat to the show that she peeped on a couple of days ago. She grew nervous, realizing that Mistress had an incredible amount of skill that Julia absolutely could not emulate. Sir was becoming rougher with her, holding her by the hair while slowly and deliberately fucking her face. Mistress didn’t gag or choke, but rather took his cock down her throat while looking up at him, even through the tears that he was creating with each thrust. Just like before, Mistress seemed to be bathing in a calm, which was a stark contrast to Julia’s tension as she watched her best friend be ravaged.
Sir held Mistress’s head on his cock, wiping the tears out of her eyes with his thumbs as she struggled for air. When he decided that she had had enough, he released her, praising her effort. He side stepped over to Julia, saying “Let’s see what she’s learned.”
Mistress removed the ball gag, a trail of spit coming from Julia’s mouth and down her shirt. She held back Julia’s hair, positioning her face at Sir’s cock. He gave the side of her face a few good slaps with his shaft before wiping it around her face, spreading the spit left behind by her gag. Julia’s jaw was sore from being gagged, but she didn’t have a lot of time to think about it before Sir’s cock invaded her mouth. He was gentler with her than he was with Mistress, for which Julia felt grateful. “That’s it, stick out your tongue,” Mistress coached, still gently holding her hair back as Julia serviced her boyfriend. Julia obeyed, letting Sir rub his cock across her tongue, soaking it in spit before roughly reaching it to her throat. He didn’t press in yet, giving her a chance to get used to his girth. “We are going to train your throat to make you into a perfect little cumslut,” Mistress said encouragingly, holding Julia’s head a little more firmly. With Sir’s cock at the back of her throat, Julia’s head was pressed into him, the tip of his cock entering her throat. She coughed instantly, tears springing to her eyes as she gasped. “Again,” she heard Mistress say, and before she could even catch her breath Sir’s cock was back in her throat. This went on countless times, with Julia being given just enough time to take a breath before her throat was again filled with cock. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the spit streaming down her chin as she gagged and choked. Mistress kept holding her hair and head, gently stroking her cheek and encouraging her as Sir continued his assault. Every now and then he asked her to look at him, just to smear her makeup. Julia couldn’t pay attention to anything around her except her chance to breathe; with each cough she sucked in air like her life depended on it, already looking forward to her next opportunity. She didn’t hear the gurgling sound she was making, nor Mistress’s and Sir’s comments- just one breath after another- that’s all she was.
They finally showed her mercy, Sir giving one final thrust into her throat before pulling his cock out, wiping her spit all over her messy face. “You did very well,” he said gently, Mistress stroking her hair and forehead as she tried to get her bearings again. “I think she earned it,” Mistress said. Julia vaguely wondered what she meant, until she saw Sir’s hand stroking his rock-hard cock. “Are you ready to become a cumslut?” Mistress asked, holding Julia’s head firmly in case she had any doubts. “Yes, Mistress,” Julia said obediently. “Open your mouth,” Sir said, and when Julia obeyed she felt the first rope of hot cum hit her tongue.
Sir’s release released something in Julia as well; as he sprayed her mouth and face with cum she felt relief, like the lid being lifted on a pot of boiling water. She basked in the feeling, allowing herself to feel pride as well- she had persevered through the constant stimulation and fear, earning praise from both of her partners. While her mouth was still open, Mistress fed her the rest of Sir’s cum on her face, gently wiping it off of her cheeks and nose and into her open mouth, further smearing her makeup. Julia was completely spent, hovering somewhere above the moment. They stood her up, taking her over to her bed. Mistress helped her out of the latex, Julia still floating too high to feel self-conscious as she stood naked in front of her friends. They tucked her into bed, Sir coming into the room with a warm cloth and gently wiping her face clean of makeup.
“Go to sleep now, slave, you’ve been such a good girl. We will be here when you wake up.” Julia heard Mistress’s…Katie’s… gentle voice in her ears as she leaned into her well-earned sleep.
Julia woke up late and should have just stayed in bed- her life would be so so so different if that were the case. She had stayed up way too late playing video games, and hit snooze one (okay, four) too many times. She rushed through her morning routine, cutting her usually meticulous makeup routine in half and aimlessly throwing belongings into her backpack. She tore a brush through her long brown hair, dressing her curvy frame in a short skirt and a loose-fitting tee tied at the waist. In her rush out the door, she spilled her coffee all over the kitchen floor. She hastily cleaned it up, and then literally RAN to the bus stop. She got halfway before she realized she left her laptop in the living room.
Resigned to missing her first class of the day, Julia walked back to the apartment that she shared with her good friend Katie. Julia and Katie had been friends since high school and moved in together to attend the same college a few hours outside of their hometown. They were close, and pretty much ideal roommates. They had complimentary schedules; Julia attended classes during the week, and due to a few terms of summer school, Katie had graduated early and started a job in town that kept her working shift work. They saw just enough of each other to remain close, but not too much to get in each other’s way.
Katie was off today, having pulled a double night shift over the weekend- she was probably still in bed. Julia climbed the stairs to her apartment, making a mental plan to slip in quietly and grab her laptop, and then head to the library so as not to wake Katie. When Julia came in the door, the apartment was quiet. She grabbed her laptop, and as she turned to leave noticed the half-cleaned coffee spill from earlier. She stopped to clean it up, and as she was wiping the floor heard a sound from Katie’s room. She checked the time, glad to see she still had about an hour until she needed to be back at the bus stop. She headed down the hall to Katie’s room, thinking she would hang out with her for a bit to see how the weekend went at work.
Katie’s room was at the end of a long hallway. When Julia rounded the corner, she could hear muffled voices. Katie’s door was open, and just as Julia was about to announce her presence she was met with a sight that left the words hanging on the tip of her tongue.
It took Julia’s mind a few moments to process what she was seeing. The first thing that registered? Katie’s latex-clad ass.
Julia held her breath as she took in the scene in front of her. Katie was on all fours, ass pointed toward the door. She was fully dressed in latex- she had a painted on catsuit, showing only her hands and feet. Her small, fit frame was fully on display, only accentuated by the tight fabric. Beyond the flash of fire red hair, Julia could see a leather strap connecting Katie’s neck to…Jack’s hand. Jack was standing in front of her, fully nude. He pulled on Katie’s leash, forcing her to sit upright on her knees. He kept the leash tight, so that her face was inches from his stiff cock. It was then that Julia noticed Katie’s ample cleavage popping out of the catsuit.
Neither of them had realized that Julia was there; when she finally regained her senses she darted back behind the corner. She leaned against the wall, catching her breath and trying to process what she had just seen. As she was trying to get a hold of herself, she hears Jack’s voice: “Are you going to be my good little whore today?”
Julia covered her gasp, shocked that Katie would ever let Jack speak to her that way. When she heard Katie’s meek “Yes Master,” in reply, Julia was sure that she was hallucinating. She dared a peek around the corner.
Katie stood on her knees, looking up at Jack. “Tongue,” Jack ordered simply, still holding the leash tight. Katie obediently stuck her tongue out, keeping her mouth open. Jack rubbed his cock on her tongue, and then all around her face, trailing spit everywhere. He forced it into her mouth a few times, and in her throat until she coughed, and then wiped it on her face again. The whole time, Katie stayed still- just letting him soak her face in spit with his cock.
Julia was shocked by what she was seeing but couldn’t look away. She knew she was intruding, but there was something happening deep in her gut that planted her feet and prevented her from looking away. Jack continued his measured assault of Katie’s mouth, using her to harden his cock. He pulled the leash in and out, guiding Katie’s pace as his cock hit the back of her throat. Sometimes he kept the leash tight, forcing her to hold his cock in her throat until she gagged. The longer they continued, the more spit ended up on Katie’s face, chin, and now breasts. She was regularly gagging, allowing Jack to guide her and doing nothing to fight back.
As alarmed as Julia was, something prevented her from intervening. Katie looked…calm. Julia kept watching, listening to the gurgling sounds and watching the scene unfold. As she watched, she could feel her heart rate increasing, the nervousness and shock in her belly giving way to arousal.
Jack was holding Katie’s head on his cock, and she began to push back on him to be able to breathe. He jerked her back by the leash, Katie coughing and sputtering to catch her breath. He took her chin in his hands, and spit on her face before saying “Don’t you dare push away from me you filthy whore…you take my cock until I tell you to stop.”
When he then slapped Katie across the face, Julia reacted as if she herself had been slapped. Instead of a cry of shock or fear, she let out a moan. She had been so lost in the moment that she didn’t realize her hand had drifted up her skirt between her legs, her moan giving up her intrusion.
Both Katie and Jack looked down the hall, seeing Julia leaning against the wall pleasuring herself while watching them. Julia’s face flushed crimson, and without a word she turned and bolted out the door.
I tilt my head back up at him, needing another kiss to settle. He licks my lips gently, touching his tongue to mine as our lips meet. “You need to cum once more baby, then you’re done, okay?” he says gently. I nod, not trusting my voice to answer. I have no idea if I will be able to cum- I still don’t really feel like I am in my body.
He sits up slightly, moving his hands over my breasts and taking time to roll my nipples between his fingers. “Open your legs for me baby, I’m going to make you feel good.”
I do as he says before I even realize I’m doing it, easily surrendering to his command. His hand moves between my legs, sliding between my lips to find me soaked for him. His fingers explore me until he gets a moan, and then gently settle into a rhythm. I burrow into his chest, keeping my legs open as he caresses my clit. “That’s it baby, let me make you feel good. Focus on my fingers…good girl,” he whispers, helping me to reconnect to myself.
He gently brings me back down, while ramping my nerves back up. He takes a brief pause to reach for the wand on the bedside table, turning it on low and placing it between my legs. I moan at the sensation, relived that it isn’t too intense. He uses the wand to slowly build me up, bringing me to the edge little by little, and then all at once. Before I know it, I feel the all too familiar feeling of tension in my clit. “Sir, can I please cum for you?” I ask, barely a whisper. I have a brief moment of panic that he will say no, but I feel his lips on mine as he breathes his “yes” into my mouth.
I fall over the edge again, this time landing more softly. My body shivers in his embrace, and he keeps the wand on my clit until the shivers become trembles, dying down into nothing. He turns the wand off, kissing my forehead and putting his hand over my pussy, more comforting than stimulating. I am still floating, but feeling more and more grounded as he continues to touch my exhausted body. We lay together for who knows how long, wrapped in each other, soaking in the moment. He showers me in praise, kisses, and touch, giving me the time and space to come back down safely after the intense stimulation. I move gingerly, realizing that I am going to feel tenderness in my ass for days to come. I smile at the thought, knowing that the sensation will continue to ground me long after he’s left my house.
“You have been such a good girl today,” he praises, gently rubbing my body. “You did everything I said, and have made me very proud.”
His validation stirs me somewhere deep inside, and my exhausted body murmurs a “thank you Sir” before I fall asleep in his arms.
Like Mr. Grey’s style? Read more of his stories here.
My orgasm rips through me, releasing all of the tension and need that he built up in me as my pussy gushes around his fingers. My body convulses under his touch, as he slows the pace to a slow rub, demanding every single shiver he can from my body. He finally lets me come down, stroking my hair and praising me as my heart rate fights to slow down. “`Thank you Sir,” I say dreamily, the relief palpable. “You’re welcome baby,” he says gently, “but you’re not done yet. I am going to untie you, and you are going to get on your hands and knees. I am going to hurt you now,” he says matter-of-factly, deftly releasing me from my restraints. I shakily get on all fours, my limbs still week from my orgasm. I hear him behind me, selecting his first implement.
My body is stuck between the release of an orgasm and the buildup of tension as I wrap my head around what is coming next. I work on trying to ground myself before he begins, knowing that it will please him if I can withstand the impacts. I want to impress him- I crave his approval and praise. I steel myself for the first blow, relaxing into the mattress as much as I can. The first blow doesn’t come, though- instead I feel the soft leather of his crop gently stroking my ass. “Fifty per side,” he says calmly, “and you will count all the way- to one hundred. If you lose count, we will start back at one. Do you understand?” The cool detachment in his voice tells me that he is not going to go easy on me- fear bubbles up in my stomach as the gentle strokes of the leather stop.
“Y…yes Sir,” I say.
SLAP.
The first strike lands and captures my concentration. It isn’t painful, but the noise and sensation cause me to flinch. “One,” I say easily, preparing myself for the next one.
SLAP.
He hits me again, in the exact same place. I feel the sting more acutely this time but am still feeling resilient. “Two.”
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
He finds a rhythm, each slap landing with more force than the last. I too am finding a rhythm, breathing in and out to absorb the blows, letting the pain channel through my body. I gasp when he hits hard, but never fail to count out loud. He reminds me a few times to be louder, my counts turning to a mumble as I react to the pain.
I make it to thirty before he pauses, changing implements. I hear the whip of a leather flogger behind me, bracing myself for a new sensation. The sound of the flogger is louder, sharper- the sensation matches. My ass feels warm, each new blow compounding to hurt my already tender skin. My counts become more delayed as I work harder to channel the pain. I begin to breathe deeply between strikes, getting my count out just before he winds up for the next one.
The flogger changes to a wooden paddle, the sharp bite replaced with a deep, dull, reverberating thud. Each blow represents real pain at this point, and I scream, the counts becoming more difficult. “Sir…please…no more…. I can’t,” I beg, a new kind of desperation sinking in. Where I had felt desperate to cum, I now feel a different sense of desperation, more linked to self-preservation than need. I work to quiet my instincts, continuing to stay still and open myself up to the pain. I breathe deeply, relaxing my body between thuds. At seventy-five he puts the paddle down, and I feel his hand rub my sore, damaged, ass. His light touch feels like needles on the red patches, but the gentleness relaxes me. I let my stance soften, and realized a heartbeat too late that I made a mistake- his hand leaves my ass, returning with a sharp, painful…
SLAP.
I yelp, the unexpected blow bringing tears to my eyes. “Sir no! No more!” I plead, the tears threatening to fall. “You are almost done, baby. Only twenty-four more to go…you can do it…. you’re doing so well…just hold on a little longer.” His praise between slaps gives me something to focus on- something to strive for- and I focus in on his voice as his hand continues to assault me. My ass is beyond stinging, a constant pain now rippling through me.
By the last ten slaps he is not holding back, hitting me with his entire strength. Tears are freely streaming down my face, my body fully resigned to his control. All I want to do is move away, but I can’t- I have checked out of my body, my mind floating somewhere above, watching the continued assault from a detached place. I still feel the pain, but there is a break between impact and consciousness. I let myself exist in his control, knowing that he is giving me what I need. I take everything that he gives me, until I hear my voice choke out “one hundred” through the tears. I collapse at the count, freely weeping into the pillow below me as I feel his hands press firmly on my blazing hot ass.
I vaguely hear him comforting me, praising me for my tolerance and submission. “You did so good baby, I am so proud of you,” he coos, his hands gently kneading my ass before he moves them up to my shoulders. He takes me in his arms, holding me as my tears keep flowing- a different kind of release. I melt into his embrace, the protectiveness radiating from him proving to be a stark contrast to the threat that he posed just moments ago. I continue to float just above us, allowing my tormentor to provide the much-needed comfort as I try to re-establish myself. I feel his hands in my hair, gently stroking, before he takes my face in his hands. He wipes my tears away, kissing me deeply, then pulling me into his chest as I quiet my sobs.
Like Mr. Grey’s style? Read more of his stories here.
It’s been an excruciatingly long week. Every single work battle was uphill, and I hadn’t had a win all week. I could feel frustration and tension in my belly, a constant course through my bloodstream. The barking of the dog is grating, the thought of cooking dinner completely overwhelming. I have been for a run, had a bubble bath, listened to music- nothing is helping.
I am desperately in need of a hard reset, and there is only one way to get it- I text him.
The room is black through my blindfold. I find myself laying on my bed completely naked, my nipples hard from the air conditioning and the nerves. My legs are spread, arms at my sides. I can hear my heartbeat, making an effort to slow my breathing as the butterflies threaten to take over.
I lay like this for a while, time beginning to slip away as the anticipation consumes me. I feel him before I hear him, the energy of the room shifting as he enters. I am not permitted to speak until spoken to, so I fight the urge to politely greet him or flat out beg him to touch me. I feel his eyes on me as he circles the bed, taking a seat in the chair at my feet. I hear him lean back, taking in the view- saying nothing. I am completely exposed; I ball my hands into fists and then release them, trying to channel the tension before I combust. Christ, he hasn’t even touched me yet and I am already soaking wet.
I first feel his touch on my left foot- an electric shock right through my body, reverberating between my legs. I let in a sharp breath, still not making a sound as I try to relax my body. He grabs my ankle and secures it with a soft cuff, which is secured to the bed. My leg is stretched, and restricted. He then moves to my right ankle, repeating the process. He takes his time, no doubt enjoying the intensity of the tension he is creating. He takes my right hand, stretching and securing it above my head, trailing his fingers softly down the inside of my arm. He stops before he reaches my breast, not yet willing to give me the stimulation I crave. That subtle tease earns him a moan, my body completely covered in goosebumps. He finally cuffs my left wrist, leaving me to squirm against the restraints, testing their narrow limits. If I thought I was exposed before, I am now utterly helpless.
I can smell his soap and feel the heat from his body as he leans over me, moving his lips to my ear. “You are mine,” he says simply, evaporating my whole week and all of its stresses. The deadlines, responsibilities, decisions…none of them matter in this moment- only him- his voice, his hands, his directions. He stands over me, allowing his hands to course over my body- neck, shoulders, arms, belly, legs- skillfully avoiding my most sensitive areas, yet leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches. “You are going to be a good girl and take everything I give you, without complaint or hesitation. I know exactly what you need.”
“Yes Sir,” I breathe, shivering at the combination of his touch and his voice. His hand moves up the inside of my thigh, teasing the soft skin. My body tenses, begging him to dip a finger into the wetness between my legs. Instead, I feel his strong hands squeeze the inside of my thigh, kneading the muscle. I moan again, this time in frustration. “Please, Sir…” I moan, squirming against the restraints in an effort to change the placement of his hand. “Patience, my dear,” he taunts, “you’ll get what you want when I decide it’s time. You are not in control here.”
His hand moves up my other thigh, repeating the kneading. It would feel soothing, were my body not on fire from the anticipation. His hand grazes me between the legs, so lightly that I think I migh’ve imagined it. He massages my smooth lips, moaning himself now. “Mmmm baby you’re so wet,” he marvels, his fingers spreading my lips wider. I feel my clit do a summersault as he blows on it, the pressure almost enough to send me over the edge. He holds me open- blowing, looking, plotting. The air becomes more concentrated on my clit, and I deduce that he has moved his face further between my legs; my body braces for the impact of his tongue. He licks me, just once- impossibly gently, his tongue wide and slow. The sensation is too much, and not nearly enough. “Does that feel good baby?” he asks, damn well knowing the answer. “Yes Sir, please…more,” I ask, having a difficult time stringing words together with all of my attention between my legs. His tongue returns, circling my swollen clit with expert precision; bringing me right to the edge but always backing off before I get there. I am freely moaning, a garbled mixture of “Please,” “Yes,” and incoherent need. I finally pull myself together enough to say, “Please, Sir, may I cum?”
With a final hard flick of my clit with his tongue, he stops. He fucking stops. I asked permission, like I am supposed to, and he stops. I am dumbfounded as he gently removes my blindfold, my eyes blinking and squinting to adjust. “It isn’t time yet, baby,” he smirks, kissing me deeply to allow me to taste myself on his lips. I lean hard into the kiss, my restrained body hungry for stimulation. When he breaks away, I lick my salty sweet wetness off of my lips. I look up at him, my eyes full of question and need. “Sir, I need this. Please, I need the release. I need you to make me cum,” I say, trying to stay calm amid my frayed nerves. “I know baby, and you will eventually, if you’re good. You need to earn your orgasm first,” he says gently, sweeping my hair out of my eyes. “Can you show me that you’re a good girl?”
“Yes Sir, yes- anything,” I breathe, knowing that I will say yes to anything he wants.
“Good,” he replies, “don’t cum until I tell you to…no matter what.”
I see a glint in his eyes that tells me I am not going to like what comes next. He dips two fingers inside me, rubbing my juices on each nipple before he puts them in his mouth. I moan, arching my back to give him better access as his fingers press inside me again. The sensation in my nipples connects to his fingers inside me, and my previous need instantly resurfaces. I grind into his fingers, craving a harder touch. His fingers remain consistent, but his teeth bite into my nipple hard enough to illicit a scream. I was so focused between my legs that I had forgotten where his mouth was. He played with me like this for what felt like forever; his fingers bringing me to the edge, and his teeth pulling me back. I feel frustrated, betrayed, used…and exquisitely, expertly, satisfied.
The pace and intensity of his fingers suddenly changes; he kisses me, biting my lip and pulling it painfully, emitting a low growl as he does so. His fingers find my clit and start to rub quickly; I can hear the wetness in my pussy as he starts his assault. My clit is aching from the constant stimulation (and subsequent lack of release), and I can’t decide if the pressure feels good or if it’s painful. He locks eyes with me, his intensity paralyzing me. “Sir…Sir I’m going to cum!” I say frantically, knitting my brow in a silent plea for mercy. “Don’t you dare cum,” he threatens, his fingers and his gaze completely unrelenting. “You can do it baby, just hold on…you can’t cum until I tell you…be a good girl.”
“Please, Sir, it hurts…please…I need to cum Sir my pussy hurts!” I am all need and desperation, focusing every ounce of my being on not cumming. Spears of pain and pleasure are piercing through my clit, and my usual grounding techniques are not working. I can see the edge in sight but know that there will be harsh consequences for cumming without permission. I try one more desperate plea, tears welling up in my eyes as I try to hold on. He smirks at me, knowing that I am at the end of my ability. “Just a little bit longer baby, you can do it…that’s it, good girl.” I hold on to his praise, trying to ground myself in his eyes. He finally nods, and I barely hear him say “cum for me” before I explode.
Thanks for visiting my little corner of the internet. I have been writing about my experiences with kink, specifically submission, for quite some time- and have decided to compile them all in one place for the world to see. I hope you find them relatable, sexy, perhaps funny, and insightful- and I certainly hope they get you off!
My name is A. I am a tall, curvy, blonde with curly blonde hair and a killer smile. I am intelligent, grounded, and hilarious. I identify as a cis-female, and am largely straight, with a few key exceptions (more on that later!). I work in a high pressure job which I love, but sometimes find the constant challenges draining- a hard reset every now and then helps me to wield power effectively. I started dabbling in BDSM almost 10 years ago, and quickly found in it an outlet that is not only effective, but outrageously fun. I would now call myself fairly experienced in the practice of submission, but say that with the acute knowledge that there is always more to be learned. I have pushed a lot of boundaries over the years, and am still finding new ways to challenge myself and my partners.
Speaking of partners- I am unattached, though I do play regularly with a few folks. Some dynamics are D/s, others are just fun and kinky. I date when it suits me, and am sure I will share some tales about that on here from time to time. I play with new partners every now and then, but don’t submit casually- for me (and for most), building trust and rapport is a key component of submitting safely.
I think that’s enough about me to get you started. Please read more, and come back regularly for new content. I welcome comments and emails, and would love to work with you on creating commissioned original content if you like my writing style- just reach out to learn more!
Down the Rabbit Hole 