Bound To Submit
Her hands were bound tight in front of her body as she stood before him with feelings of fear, intrigue and excitement flowing through her. His dark jeans and black t-shirt clung tight against his body, emphasising the definition of his muscular form that she yearned to touch. As he grabbed her bindings she breathed in a quick breath from the shock of his sudden jerk of motion.
He smiled, enjoying the panic he could create from mere movements towards her. Lifting her tied hands above her head he slowly fed them over the hook that swung rhythmically above her. As she looked up at her hands, she noticed the rope that was attached to the hook was threaded through a hoop and down to a pulley system. As she looked at the pulley she realised he had made his way to it and was turning the handle, causing the hook along with her hands to begin to rise higher.
When the clicking of the pulley finally stopped, she could barely keep the big toe on each foot from touching the ground beneath her. Both arms ached as gravity pulled on the weight of her body trying to drag her back to the cool concrete floor. With her new height she could stare directly into his bright blue eyes as he moved back in front of her subdued body, only a breath away from being pressed against her naked skin.
She can only watch as he moves slowly downwards, his hands caressing her legs as he travels. Grabbing each ankle in turn he binds them with rope and ties them to pillars at either side of her, so that her legs are separated enough to expose her bald pussy to him.
With silent breath she listens as he moves behind her and lifts something from what she assumes is a table or a shelf. When he reappears in front of her she sees his fingers toying with the end of the crop that he is delicately holding.
“I don’t want you to use that on me,” she begs. He looks over the curves of her body considering where he may strike first.
“It’s not about what you want. It’s about what I want. What I need.”
“Please I’m begging you.”
Her pleading means nothing to him and only one thing will make it stop.
“What is my name?” he questions, a harsh undertone in his voice.
She remains silent and drops her head so she can avoid his gaze. The answer he wants is not one she is willing to give, but she knows that her silence will only bring that which she does not want. She shudders as he runs the tip of the crop between her legs, catching her clit and sending a pulse of sexual need through her body. As he takes the crop away she can see her own juices glistening on the dark leather. He brings it within an inch of her lips.
She wants to let her tongue reach out; to taste her sweet nectar but she knows if she does it will be the start of a road she is not yet ready to travel. She will not submit to him!
Letting the crop drop he moves to her side. She sees his arm suddenly rise before the sharp crack of the crop comes back down with force catching her bare cheek. She bites her lip as she tries to stop herself from crying out. Again his arm rises before letting out another sharp whack of the leather crop, this time against her other cheek. As they both burn mildly against the cool air that is flowing over them, she catches her breath for a moment. She moves her body slightly in some hope that she may be able to release herself but she knows it won’t be possible unless he allows it.
Moving back to face her once more, he runs the crop head over the sweet lips of her cunt, coating it in her fluids that are flowing more freely than before. Her excitement is obvious. She can deny it all she wants, but her body will always reveal her lie. Bringing the crop to her lips, he demands her again.
Even she cannot tell if she is being stubborn in her will not to submit, or if she wants the punishment of the crop against her soft flesh. As his question goes unanswered, he moves away from her slightly as he eyes her body with a sadistic look in his eyes. The first slap landed firmly on the inside of her left thigh, catching her off guard and she lets out a scream from the sudden pain. The second slap catches the inside of her right thigh, again causing a scream though lighter than the last. Now she was prepared for it. His motions quickened as he brought the tight leather crashing down against each thigh in turn. Mixed screams and moans escaped her as her thighs burned and her pussy juices trickled down her legs.
She felt the crop against her wetness before it came to rest in front of her lips again as he posed his question once more.
“Lick it. NOW!”
She brought her tongue forward past her lips, not quite reaching the mixture of leather and her own sweet juice. Her mind wanted the taste of it on her tongue, its sweet smell pleading to be licked but she couldn’t do it. She could not submit to him.
The crack of the crop was lighter this time but its target was met and felt as it landed against the lips of her pussy sending a shock of pleasure through her loins. He brought his hand to her, separating her lips to expose her tight bud. With quick but mild slaps he brought the leather to her clit and the sensations built quickly within her.
“Please no. Please don’t do that.” she begged.
“Are you ready to answer my question?” He demanded.
Biting her lip as her emotions and sexual pleasures both built together, she shook her head at him still stubborn in her desire to remain her own. His pace quickened and the slaps landed more often. Her hips bucked trying to escape. Knowing that if she came she would belong to him whether she verbally admitted it or not.
The touch of leather against her swollen clit stopped and his manly finger began to tease it in its place. She found the crop by her face once more and he leaned in to her, licking her face of the sweat starting to form on her red cheeks.
“I don’t need to ask you to submit to me. Your body already has. Your body wants the release your cunt is aching for and all you have to do is lick your juice from the crop.” he whispered.
She could never forgive her body. As much as her mind wanted to remain free her body was begging to be his slut. Without thinking her tongue eased from her mouth and ran along the warmth of her juices on the leather as she enjoyed the taste of the juice her body had spilt in its betrayal of her.
Dropping to his knees in front of her he brought his mouth to her red mound and drank deeply from her as he listened to her moans above him. Although she had held out she needed something to remember why she should submit to him for eternity. He gulped down her cream as she came hard against his tongue. Her bright red cheeks tightened as pulse after pulse of hot liquid forced its way from her abused pussy and into his waiting mouth.
As her spasms subsided he raised himself from the ground, pleased to see her head hang slightly due to the physical drain she felt. Taking his hand tenderly to her chin he helped her head up to face him.
“What’s my name?”
She wouldn’t resist him anymore. As much as she wanted to be her own woman, her body had shown her that deep within her hard exterior burned a slut hungry for his abuse.
“Master.” She finally answered.
He kissed her deeply, letting her enjoy the taste of the remaining juices that coated his lips. As she began to enjoy his embrace he pulled himself away from her.
“Now, let’s see what else you can handle.” He said as he walked past her, placing the crop back in its place and searching through his other toys and devices.