u/saintxwing

Your hands are bound, tied over your head and secured against a chain hanging from the ceiling. You cannot see, but know you are naked from the cool air of the dungeon against your skin. You don’t hear or sense anyone else in the dungeon but can never be sure you’re alone. Your whole body is tense, on edge with fear, unable to guess what is happening, or what will happen next. But from between your thighs something calls to you, a gentle pulse of warmth asking to be tended and stroked, to grow into something greater and brighter.

You hear a creak, the moan of a wooden stair as my weight settles on it, from above, and look up, as if you will be able to see anything. You can track my approach by sound, and each haunting groan of the wood makes your heart race faster, your pussy thrum more intently. You can almost feel my eyes, even if you cannot see them, rolling over your body; taking in all the sacred parts you work so diligently to hide from the world. I reach the bottom of the stairs, only a few feet from your helpless and exposed body. The sound of my footsteps changes. They become a half-thud half-click, of rubber against the hard wood of the dungeon. You hear them walking a slow circle around you and know I am taking in the sight of you from all angles, observing every curve and sinew and little movement of your body. Your heart throws itself around your chest, from between your legs the gentle pulse grows again, begging demanding needing to be touched. Its so intense that you almost miss the sound of something being taking from the wall behind you.

The feeling of my hand slowly caressing your ass, sliding along the curve of your buttocks, catches you off guard. You yelp and squirm with uncontrolled terror. You feel fingertips sliding down from the base of your neck, following the length of your spine. A second later there’s a loud snap, and a clear bright sting on your ass. You brace for another, but it does not fall yet. Instead, you feel my palm slap against your breasts and my fingers squeezing slowly. From directly in front of you there is a growl “Your ass jiggles so nicely when I spank it, slave girl.” Still processing the pain, you don’t answer. A second slap hits your other breast, making you whimper. “It’s really too bad for you that you’re so lovely when you’re suffering.” I continue, my voice suddenly beside you rather than in front. “It means I hurt you more.” Another spank of the paddle burns on your buttocks. “And Hurt you worse.” A third agonizing strike, followed quickly by the fourth, fifth, sixth. They come too fast for you to count; attacking your tender, vulnerable ass from every direction; imposing their sharp sting. You squirm and twist, thrashing to get away from the pain. “That’s right pretty girl...” I say in a gentle, almost laughing voice “Show off for me, show me how much it fucking hurts.”

The rhythm of the spanking changes. The blows come slower, but hit harder. Pain still burns on the surface but now shoots like lightning into your flesh. I no longer allow you to squirm. A single hand, resting softly on your hip, holds you in place as the paddle lands again and again on the sensitive spot at the bottom of your ass, just above your legs. You don’t try to hide your suffering, whimpering and yelping openly as your ass burns and your pussy throbs. Taking the pain that I give you like a good little slave.

After only a few strikes your breaths become ragged, each one threatening to break into a sob. You don’t know what, but you hear something clunk then swish, landing on the floor beside you. “Your bruises are so beautiful, slave girl.” I say, running a soothing hand over the burning skin of your ass. “But I don’t think you can take much more...” With a smooth motion I spin you around to face me. You feel my lips against yours. My kiss is long and slow and gentle, a hand moves up to the small of your back, then back down to your thighs. It comes up again, flows up to your belly, then it drifts downward to your hips and stops a few teasing millimetres from your clitoris. In a whisper I muse “I wonder if you look as good being fucked, as you look being tortured.”

Fingers brush over your clitoris, making your voice quaver as you tell me “Yes, sir. I look... I look so nice being fucked...”

“Do you want me to fuck you pretty slave?”

“Yes, sir I... I want—”

You don’t get a chance to finish. Before you know what’s happening you’re stretched over something soft and smooth and cool; lying on your stomach with my cock pushing into you. It fills you again and again, answering the ache within you. There’s nothing you can do but gasp “Thank you, sir. Thank you for—”

“For hurting you, slave?” I lift your head from the mattress.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for hurting... hurting me.”

“And for fucking you?”

“Yes, sir. Thank...thank you for...” A moan of bliss cuts off your words “for fucking me. And hurting me. Thank you for hurting and fucking… fucking me.”

Each thrust of my cock sends a wave of pleasure over your body. You feel yourself starting to tremble and ask “Please, may I... May I cum for you, sir?”

“Of course.” I shove your head back into the mattress. “You’ve been such a good girl.” Of course you can come.

You don’t try to speak, or even think. Just let yourself sink into the ecstasy of being tormented and fucked; Surrendering to the pain I have inflicted and orgasm I have imposed on you.

You wait on your knees, watching as I approach. Your hands are shackled behind your back, and unable to hide any part of your naked body. The chain around your neck moors you to the bed post, prevents any small hope of escape. You don’t know how long it’s been since I stripped away your clothing and bound you like this, but your pussy has throbbed mercilessly the whole time.

I stop and stand over you, watching silently as your breasts rise when you inhale then fall when you breathe out. “Spread your legs.” I command “show off that pussy like a good little whore.” Your body moves automatically, before my words even register in your mind, widening the space between your thighs. I reach forward and touch your chin, tilting your head and forcing you to look up at me. Your heart beats faster and your breaths becomes shaky as my eyes wander over your whole exposed body. They travel along the line of your thighs to your hips, sweeping leisurely over your needy pussy, before travelling up the curve of your belly. They fall onto your breasts and remain for a while, gazing contemplatively. From your heaving chest my gaze moves up your neck and finally to your eyes, which sparkle as I look into them; alight with fear, devotion, and desire. I give my second command in a quiet voice “Open your mouth.” Once again, your body heeds my order before your mind can process the words. You let your jaw fall open without a thought. My fingers slide slowly past your lips and move gently in and out of your mouth. A meek and docile slave, you don’t even think to resist while I explore the warmth and softness of your body.

When I am satisfied with your submission, I pull my fingers away and take something from my pocket. It glints gold in the lamp light as I unscrew the cap. Crimson lipstick emerges with a slow twist. “Hold still, pretty girl.” I instruct, touching the lipstick to your cheek. “And keep that mouth open for me.”

My hand settles gently on to the top of your head, and a sudden serenity washes over you. Your mind is quiet as I write W-H on one cheek and R-E on the other in livid red. Around your still open mouth I make a bright O completing the word. I smile gently down at you and stroke your hair. Offering comfort when I ask “Are you ready to be played with, little whore?”

“Yes…um…” Your voice quavers and excitement makes you stumble over your words. “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

The leather of the flogger slides over the sheets and past your ear with a quiet hiss. I take it up from the bed, and it snaps as I lash the tresses across your tits onetwothree times in quick succession. The pain isn’t over whelming, just enough to make you gasp and close your eyes. With a stern voice I warn you to “Keep that whore mouth open for me.” before blows fourfivesixseveneight fall. I call you “Good girl.” When you manage to obey, focusing through the pain and offering me your throat.

At first the agony stays on the surface, burning over your tender skin. But strikes nine-ten- eleven come a little slower, with more force, and more cruelly targeted. They send the burning a little bit deeper into your tender flesh. I keep lashing you and ask “Have you touched yourself lately, whore?”

“No.” You wince in pain as the flogger rakes across your chest but manage to answer. “No, sir. I haven’t.

“Why not?” My voice is calm, but my eyes are bright and demanding. The lashes are quick again. You loose count of them and struggle to speak through the pain. Each thought is interrupted by a new sting.

“Because…” You stammer in anguish “Because… fuck. Fuckfuck.” You curse to cope with the pain. “Because I… I’m your whore, and my cunt is your property, sir.”

“And I haven’t given you permission to masturbate in a while.”

“No… you haven’t, sir.” You moan in torment.

“Your poor pussy must be getting desperate.” I say indifferently, between snaps of leather.

“Yes, sir.” You don’t even think the words. Despite the pain they fall from your lips like water. “I’m… fuck… I’m so desperate, sir. All—” A whimper of pain cuts off your pleading. “I’m…I’m… all wet and needy for… for you, sir.”

A few hard lashes make you yelp and bleat and curse before I ask “But is my whore needy enough to beg?” with a gloating voice.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me. Use my whore cunt, sir. I’ve been such—” a sudden shock of pain cuts off your pleas, but soon grovelling spills from your lips again. “I’ve been such a good whore for you. Please fuck your good little whore, sir. I… please… I need it.”

I toss the flogger aside and smile down at you. “How could I say no to such a needy, pathetic little creature?” I unwind the chain from the bed post and steady you with my free hand as I use it to lift you to your feet, then like a leash to guide you around the corner of the bed. I man handle you down to the mattress. You feel the sudden stinging impact of my hand on your skin, then my fingers squeezing into your ass. “Keep begging” I order.

“Pleasepleaseplease. Please fuck me, sir. I need it, please. I… I’ve been so good for you, so obedient. I need… please, sir, I need your dick so bad. I just… want to make you feel good, sir. Your little whore wants to make you feel good. Please.”

Bent over the mattress, naked, aching and helpless you beg until your words are cut off by the feeling of my cock pressing into you. It plunges deep, stretching your pussy and sending wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over you. You gasp, and moan, and twitch. “Keep fucking begging, whore.” There’s another burning flash of pain as a spank lands on your ass.

You whimper the only word you can think of “Please, sir. Please…” The pleasure of my cock thrusting into your body grows from waves of pleasure to a cascade of bliss that you cannot hold against. Your toes curl and your leg starts to tremble.

I pull the chain around your neck tight. “Good whores ask permission before they come.” I warn.

“May… may I please come, sir? For you, can this good little whore come for you?”

“You can.” I growl, pushing your head into the mattress, thrusting as deep as you can take. Bound and helpless, your skin still stinging from the flogger, your whole body starts to shake. Ecstasy rushes in, flooding your mind and body. You surrender to it, let it carry you to orgasm as a sweet and obedient whore, cumming all over my cock.