She had never felt so embarrassed and... never been so wet. 

The only thing she still knew is that she wanted.., needed more.

Would she become addicted so soon to all the things he would do to her? She hoped so.

How could he make all the things she had felt so bad about feel so wonderful?

How come that she felt she could never tell her friends any of the things that made her feel really good?

She missed her Daddy.

He had always taken away her cares and made her precious and safe and happy.

The only real wish she had was that someone else would wish for her.

Her friends had complained about men thinking about sex all day.

She had always wanted to meet such men.

All her life she had been told what was proper.

Never had it felt right.

She was most comfortable when he decided for her how much pain she could take.

Only at these times was she truly receptive to the experience of pleasure.

She couldn't explain 'why' she did what she did for him.

It was just that no one appreciated her more than he did.

And nothing could make her feel better than his appreciation.

It had proven most important to her.

The one thing she couldn't do without. 

The only thing that made her truly satisfied. Happy.

I love it how I instantly get hard right after letting go in her face. She does too.

For a special girl with a special need:

It had been several hours since he had called her to his room and allowed her in the big bed that saturday morning. It was still dark out.

He had no longer been cross with her. Although she still ached considerably there, she had pushed her hiny firmly towards him as she slipped under the blankets, to nestle all of her awesome cold curve in the cup of his hot naked embrace. She could not feel him through the layers of material as she wriggled her beautifully wrapped round bum to find his hard swollen cock, only her plug responded and she concluded that he called her just so as that they could snooze together. Soon both had dosed of in this intimate cupped embrace...

As she woke again some time later and his breathing was still soft, she felt her bladder could no longer hold. His heavy arm embraced her though and she was not allowed to change her posture or worse: to wake him. Not able to break their embrace, after a short whimper and with a long soft nasal sigh of relief she emptied herself in her nappy, uncertain whether or not he would approve. Unable to muffle a moan in which girlish anxiety for his response mixed with the welcome relief and the reward of that fast spreading, comforting hot glow, she pressed her thighs together to sustain the tingling sensation this act of wetting her diaper always summoned from high between her thighs, as her buttocks bucked against him firmly in reflex. Almost immediately he responded. With a soft grunt his hands started to move around and over her body. His right hand grabbed at her left breast, firmly locking her nipple between thumb and forefinger, pulling it until her body stiffened. He squeezed her tight against his hot body and put his other hand squarely between her thighs and pressed. As the warm golden glow spread through all her nappy, she rode her bottom firmly back up against him and felt Daddy was all hard and set to check and change her diaper. Again and again she pressed her most feminine softness squarely against his stirring hot rod as his hips moved in synch.

‘Good morning baby girl’... 

‘I'd say it is time for Daddy’s wake up kiss’ 

Right as he had said it she spun around in his arms, got herself on hands and knees and receded under the blankets. His hands were on her head as her small fingers encircled his erect shaft and guided its hot purple head between her lips deep in the warm eagerly sucking embrace of her hot mouth. ‘Mmmmh’ they both uttered as she wetted him well so as that she could in two movements of her head take him all the way down into her throat where she knew, could feel, he liked her most... Again he grunted as he thrusted his hips upward, prodding his cock in her wet mouth until her nose was pressed against his flat belly and held her there whilst his hand felt its way between her creamy, mildly damp thighs, hooking his middle finger around the base of the plug that he had the previous night forced up her sphincter and that had been held in place securely by the diaper and her sincere wish to not only please him but also her bodies’ appreciation of that so wonderfully intrusive object itself... As he pulled her head up by her hair and started slowly to fuck her throat, he pressed and moved the plug and rubbed his strong hand over her pussy, rubbing her hot liquid into her skin... Suddenly he released the sticky ribbons that held one side of her nappy closed. Then the other. All the while fucking her mouth... until he pulled her head up and off him by her hair.

‘Show me that ass’, he said. As he tossed the heavy diaper besides the bed, let go of her hair and reached for the oily tissues on the night stand... Carefully he cleaned her. Her pussy, thighs, her buttocks, moving carefully around the base of the plug whilst the thumb of his other hand pressed upon it softly again and again... The room smelling of oil, her folds shiny and lubed with it....

She was prepared for the removal of the plug... He always took his time to make her breathing arrest as she was so vulnerable and exposed to him, holding the plug halfway. Its widest point stretching her sphincter, reminding her of the discomfort he literally held at his fingertips, he watched her struggle, reinforcing her submission. Cooing to her 'that's my good little girl slut'. Even as the lubrication provided some ease, still she feared his cock would split her as he shoved it up deep into the hot clenching rewards of her tight anal hole. Her cry accompanied his contented primal grunting as he felt her discomfort squeeze him where he so enjoyed it. She gripped the sheets and blinked away fear and a tear as her body was forced to hastily adjust to his size. Her panic, the fear of permanent bodily harm and humiliation of being so violated was matched only by the warm arousal of knowing that she served him just right.

For mira (extended 8 Dec. 2013):

Agony had always been there as she presented herself. Firstly because the wait had always been too long for her fragile personality. She depended on his attention so. All her strength seemed to come only, directly from him. He gave her so much, so easily, but he was so sorely missed for it too, when she was without him. She felt incomplete, inadequate as never before. In providing her with the energy and strength that came to her in submission he had also shown her weaknesses, her dependence on his dominant attentions and control. Sometimes it seemed that she was made up entirely of needs only he could attend to and still. And the more he gave her, the more she needed. Her mind screamed for him all the time that she had to do without his presence, his attention. She had wanted to be his little girl, his woman and female and such she had become... All the rest had been stripped from her to set her true self free to submit it wholly to him.

Agony. Yes. 

Secondly, because her body voiced its desires in its own ways but always in choir with her mind, so close his mere presence in her life had brought them into harmony. This ever building sexual arousal, fed by every thought of his domination accompanied her always, every where; driving her further to the edge of sanity with every minute she had to be without him, every second she was with him. As if her body ordered her to submit to him, present herself to him. No rational thought was needed; she was his bitch in  constant heat. Now that he had taken firm control over her, it seemed her urges drowned out all other thoughts within a day of parting with him. She could no longer live without him. Even if her daily routine demanded her concentration, she could not give it. The simplest, everyday things, a word, gesture, a sound or smell would make her legs shake and her panty wet. Her puss would open and flow and many times did she inhale her own scent steaming up from between her damp naked thighs under her desk. 

But thirdly, thirdly now was there a new agony... That of her about to burst breasts, that squirted with -it seemed- every movement of her upper body..., the sensitively enlarged, slightly darkened nipples that stood out proudly all day now, responding to every movement of the cloth that strained to cover and control them. Over the last six weeks her cupsize had gone from a modest B to a generous double DD. This had not gone unnoticed amongst her colleagues. Some had been subtle, others envious, others still had all but salivated upon her, going out of their way to hover around her desk. 

What had started with him teaching her the rewards of prolonged stimulation of her nipples through soft suction, oral or otherwise induced and lasting several hours, had brought her a mix of sensual pleasures and mental bliss that had combined to introduce her into a whole new state of deep satisfaction, the tingle and tranquility of which remained with her for hours and now as her milk had started to flow; a new, deeper level of submission and dependence that she had become addicted to instantly. She had never before felt so feminine and dominated.

How she yearned for his touch, unconsciously pressing forward her breasts as she thought of him, biting her lip as she felt the sting of much anticipated but not yet granted relief of pressure aim itself towards her heart. How she needed the relief of the suction and pump. How she longed to hear his approval of her submitting her production. How it -in turn- would deepen her need for it further. How she reveled in her new state. Four times during office hours she had to seek the privacy of the nursing room on the first floor to apply the pump to her bursting bosom. Every time she rose from her chair to go there she felt the warm flow of her sexual arousal exit her wet flower, soaking her panties and leaving a large wet smudge where she had sat on the imitation leather fabric of the reclined examination chair. All the while as her full body fed the demandingly whirring pump she had to dab her swollen labia using her panties to keep herself from spilling her honey on the floor. The whole room smelled for sex as she left it with a hot blush as one of the other women hurried in past her right as she left. Four sessions; four new panties. But the blush was not one of shame. She had learned now the smell of the other women too. The intimate bond they shared had brought a ‘new’ interest from one or two of the other women... A somewhat peculiar interest she had had no time -yet- to explore or pursue.

At these times he failed her most. How she longed for him as she felt the pressure flow from her breasts as the pistons sucked and hissed, as her body lubricated itself copiously to welcome his. How she wanted him to subtly tie her breasts, increase the pressure, so as that his every attention to her nipples would produce a long squirt of her nourishment sent spraying forward from her. How she wanted him to milk her, how she needed to feel the deeply satisfying glow take possession of her body as he emptied her. How his comments would revitalize her energy, how she would long for him to spend his lust and precious seed on her, filing her. Making her his once more, still more, completely.

Every three hours he would stimulate her lactation. In between all of his other tantalizing, commanding, controlling attentions. Her sexe opened for access wet and willing, her breasts squirted inside her bra as soon as she thought of him or heard his voice. She thought of him all day... Never before had she felt so feminine, so female, so primal, so natural...

How his latest demand had terrified her. How it had kept her awake. Wet. Wanting. How eager she was to submit to him in this demand too. He had taken his time to condition her properly, starting a long time ago already... To desensitize her to what could easily be conceived as barbaric... He had started with snippets of information, casual remarks, references to ancient India; ethnic rituals and ceremonies, rites and fashions. Later on these had been put in their correct perspective... Slowly had she come to accept that a Master marks his possessions, the s of his dominance and doting, in permanent ways. Marks and modifies them. As the camel wore a ring, so would she. So would she know and be able  to submit to his command even if it were given in the dark, silent, with the mere gesture of a finger... As he had noticed that she had grown accustomed to the promise of having to accept and wear his rings he had decreed a date and details. Lactation preventing her swollen teats to be pierced momentarily, her inner labia were scheduled for receiving two surgical steel rings, as was her clithood...

It had been a true catharsis, sweeping away the last vestiges of her own will and spirit, to be replaced fully by an unconditional obedience to her Dom and a complete focus on his comfort, pleasure and satisfaction alone. Now she was fully his; as long as she felt the ring not a single thought in the first person would ever cloud her vision again. Wearing his collar she had waited nude in that infamous chair, legs spread for the physician he had hired to perform the act of piercing her sexe and attaching to it the markings and instruments of his ownership and control. At first surprised when confronted with the cold, all knowing gaze of this red haired woman, soon all inhibition and anxiety had been lost and replaced with a blissful, intoxicating pride. Within a minute an all overwhelming warm rush had entered her that would only intensify as the day continued; sheer strength made her wish for, welcome this intense pain coming as the perfect means to show her dedication, her submission. Immediately her breasts had started leaking, her pussy lips started to darken and swell until they pouted in full dilation as the promise of pain and being marked as cattle resulted in her full sexual arousal. Her mouth open, lips trembling she had stared into the lens of the camera before her, eyes watering but without a single blink she had then and there surrendered all she had to him, on the record, as the doctor drew out the procedure as long as she could. The rush had lasted more than a full day. Three times he had told her to cum and without even a touch, solely by his demand and her state of total submission to his will had she been able to obey him. Now her leash was no longer attached to her collar as she waited for his arrival or command, but only led through its chrome ring, leading to its attachment on her clitoris ring. There now his gentle tugs and pulls were delivered, as she stood to attention, kneeled on all four for milking, was led by him around the house or garden... How happy she was.

He had told her to remain silent. To let her mind absorb all of it, not disturb it by seeking words or try to focus her mind outside her body, so as that later they would be able to relive the moments in detail and be able better to cherish the memories, savor them. All the ride home she had been half on her way to subspace; drowsy, emotional, happy, in tears and giggles all at once. Aroused. Still. Once more. She had already started to become aware of a new pressure that had announced itself in her breasts as the needles where fed through her flesh and skin. He smelled her. From underneath the blanket he had put over her to keep her warm her scent had risen. 

At home he helped her out of the car and supported her as they walked inside, her knees unsteady. She seemed to melt at his touch, wanting to crawl all the way inside him. Cooing to him softly as she felt certain parts of her numbing, started to feel very tired.

Immediately when they got inside he directed her to the bathroom. He unbuttoned her dress and rolled her lace panties down to her ankles, removed the gauss then helped her lower herself on the toilet. Nothing could have prepared her for what he was anticipating already, the sting that followed as she emptied her bladder... She bucked, his hands were there to steady her. She inhaled sharply and let out with a moan, her naked body spasming as a firy glow spread through her labia and clitoris, her heavy breasts shuddering, tingling. ‘That’s my girl’, he broke the silence. ‘This is good, it will disinfect.’ Unsteadily she tried to counter the still spreading sensations that had surprised her. ‘Good girl’, ‘that’s my brave girl’. After waiting for her to relax, telling her to sit back he padded her labia dry. She had nearly had it. She was at the end of her strength. Once more the burn returned, much less intense, as he sprayed her swollen puss with a saline solution, then with sterile water. As she had adjusted, he helped her get up and supported her into the bedroom, her breasts swollen hard with her milk now, sensitive to every movement, however small, eager to release their pressure.

The room was warm, the sheets were fresh and the breastpump clean and ready for use on the nightstand, together with a infra red light... He was beside her all the way, his arm around her all the time, as he opened the door for her and led her to the edge of the bed, supporting her as she sat down carefully.

A pile of cushions was arranged at the head of the bed for her to rest against. Carefully he helped her move herself further up on the bed before she sank into them with a sigh of relief. He put a finger on her mouth as she opened it to say something.... ‘hush my darling, I know... I will see to you...’ 

He sat next to her and as his hand touched her breast, checking it, delicately rubbing it he smiled as he felt her milk and sent her sinking down deep into the bliss of surrender to his tending to her in the most intimate of ways.

Eyes closed her last conscious realization was the feeling of his hand squeezing her breast, hearing the pump start as it sucked the cup firmly on her sensitive nipple, starting to milk her. Soon she felt nothing but the whizz and click and vibrations of the pump travel through her breasts as they were contently relaxing, happy to be relieved of the tension inside, her nipples both fully abuzz, more sensitive with every pull, lulling her brain as they expressed her precious nutrient into the silicone muzzle. 

Soon the sweet rush was fed too from below... completing her arousal, plunging her into the warm abyssal depths of subspace, perfecting her comforted content. 

Her conscious, suspended between the much wished for excitements of the day, all the sensations of suckling together with her deep, deep feeling of submission and the strong impact of sensing the fresh wounds so delicately placed, caused her body to react as it was conditioned to do. It surrendered, as she had and submerged fully with her, into heaven, perfect tranquility had set in. Following her natural instinct, the misplaced inhibitions of her upbringing stripped by him carefully; her body started oozing lubrication as soon as the first drop of her milk was drawn, fully prepared to receive and accommodate her man. Ready to please. This night, in vain.

Softly, she woke from a sweet dream, a pearl of sweat on her brow, through an unfamiliar sensation she detected upon her loins... warm and soft, comforting... rustling. Curious she raised her eyes just enough for a peek and gasped. As she had floated through heaven into a dream, tending to her he had used a diaper to ensure her hygiene, protecting her delicacies from infection. She blushed as she instantly realized that feeling the firm touch of its comforting soft material upon her had pleased her. Even more so because she had always shied from fantasizing about diapers. Carefully she placed her hand on it. Was it true? She felt nothing, not really. Or? She still felt a bit weak as she tried to sit up and tender as she succeeded. Yes. It had really happened...

It turned out she had slept in but the dream continued. Her body healed quickly. She had been able to resume her daily routine almost without check.

Eight times a day he checked her. Laying her out on bed, her diaper was changed and her body cleansed. There were no complications. The saline solution did its work. He had her drink extra water to dilute her urine so as that it helped disinfect, without being to aggressive. She enjoyed this routine, she enjoyed the snug relaxing comfort the padding provided. She had never felt pampered in that way before and found it to be without equal. Halfway through the week she had summoned all her courage and suggested she wet the diaper. Since then, she had been allowed to do this once a day. But, as her labia will still tender and vulnerable, he stimulated her femininity by making her wear plugs. She had never before worn them outside of the house in the daytime, but he had surprised her with a crystal based one that she could wear whilst doing groceries, to compensate for erotic interaction that impossible whilst the healing completed. The last change before groceries he inserted it inside her. It had forced her to check her list constantly as she passed through the isles in the supermarket, her mind focussed wholly on the hard prodding rod that reared itself in her very center with every part of every step she took, all the time dominating her soft core. She had avoided coming too close to other people as she felt utterly possessed by her new gift and thought it best not to make contact in her... 'state'.

What they had planned for to be a relaxation of the sensual energy they exchanged, turned out to be a turn on lasting two weeks; their energy building but never released. Eight diapers a day. After every milking sessions she had saturated one with the fluids of her pouting cunt. Every diaper change he fondled her. Clinically, checking her for infections, but her body didn't discriminate. She wanted terribly to be allowed to cum but was held in chastity on Doctor's orders. She wouldn't risk doing anything against instructions but after two weeks she was about ready to burst. 

He had noticed her growing discomfort and -making every effort to restrain himself to- had consciously planned ahead and prepared a session to recompense her for gratification she missed out on the last weeks and reward her for achieving her new level of submission.

That afternoon, as she returned from groceries he called her to the living room where he surprised her having champagne ready. Every surprise he arranged for her, always announced that there'd be other ones following suit and it immediately sparked her curiosity and excitement, especially knowing that he knew her bosom was tense and sensitive with her warm milk. That meant that she could be sure he would not postpone pumping and that meant he had some elaborate ceremony in mind. She so desperately craved his erotic attentions that the sheer apprehension that she would once more be granted it, made her pussy pour its hot lube in the diaper before she had accepted the glass. He recognized all the signs...

“why don't you strip to your diaper and heels while I pour you a glass of champagne dear?”

Soon she stepped out of her dress.

“leave that for now, come...” 

She approached him where he reclined in his chair and assumed the position. Back straight, breasts forward, chin up, hands behind her head, feet placed apart. She had to make an effort to keep her eyes open as she felt the plug eagerly nudging forward as her posture drew it farther in the firm confinement of her softest core. Also, the position of her hands lifted her breasts and made them feel even more full, the spheres tight and swollen hard, the nipple tightened, screaming for release, demanding attention through making themselves hurtfully tender. Only slightly, though clearly, did she let her head fall to one side in the enchanting agony of unbearable arousal.

“Straighten up, woman”.

“Yes.., Master”.

“H.. how may I serve you?”.

His hand caressed her tummy, scratching the rim of her wrappings, then slid between her legs, pressing upon her overly sensitive labia, hot with desire.

“Have you wetted your diaper girl?”

“No, Master”.

“Maybe you should have”. 

“It did seem to excite you, in a most particular way”.

She could not respond. He had caught her, once more, squarely between the lust and shame of her. He saw her radiant blush; her breast and cheek aglow with hot shyness. 

He knew the mental discomfort this little interrogation caused and how it stimulated her submission and her sexual desire alike. He knew she would reward him for it.

Yes. More she would give him. More of her for him.

“Or are you wanting to wear them more often, even now that we’ve no longer a practical, sanitary use for them”.

How she struggled. How he knew. How obvious it was that her answer could only be “yes, yes, yes”. How he would later use her inability to answer his questions against her, to once more step up his Dominance over her. How he looked forward to that. How he would enjoy that. 

How she would.

“I could easily reassess and make the necessary changes to your wardrobe”.

“Have you wear them everyday”.

“Wet them”.

“Every day”.

“I could”.

“Later”.

Her whole body now trembled... Her thighs, arms, breasts... 

He curled his fingers over the edge of her wrappings and pulled loose her diaper, letting it fall between her feet.

“I’d say, we’ve some grooming to do young lady”, stroking the stub of her pubes with his thumb. He could smell her dampness. God, it turned him on.

The diaper too, released an overpowering dose of her strong, sexually scented odor.

“But how pretty still, you are my love”.

“More beautiful than ever now, in fact”.

“Wearing the mark of my ownership, your subjection”.

He felt his body come prepared, his clothing coming under pressure with the erection that was awakened.

His fingers went for her.

Stroking her soft lips, feeling for the tiny hard steel that was held enclosed between her soft full folds, his eye steady on the ring through her clithood, that stood proud expelled forward from between her pouting outer labia. Immediately she flowed. His fingers soaked, drops snaking down her thighs... as if her cunt were crying, overcome with joy. 

She opened. Within thirty seconds he saw her outer lips dilate fully, standing open as a rose in full bloom, wet and dark pink and shiny, her hole open, oozing...

Her knees trembled... Mouth open, her lips wet, she was ready to cum. Adding to the turmoil in her lower body and brain, her breasts were now so bloated with her sustenance, that steadily she dripped from both her throbbing teats.

“Mmmmmh”.

“My you are a wet and lusty girl tonight”.

“It’s obvious that we need to do something about your state”.

“Kneel besides me, slave”, he said softly as slowly he withdrew the wet fingers of his hand.

She knew what was expected and stepped to kneel next to his feet where he sat, careful not to express the plug, which was quite a trick. Slowly she tried to lower herself as much as possible in a straight line. He held his fingers out for her to clean and she hungrily fed on them, sucking her hot tastiness from him with loud force and a content hum. He indicated the collar on the armrest of his chair with a look and she proceeded to close it around her neck...

Together the enjoyed their champagne. As he had her kneel with her back straight and her hands in her neck, her swollen udders continued to drip, faster now. Catching drops in her glass, holding it to her lips, making her sip the bubbles her own body had fortified. Silently she cried, tears streaming. 

She was his now, fully. More than she had ever been. He so enjoyed her... She so worshipped him.

He put her glass away and held the gag for her. Both of them understood the need for it, as it was very clear that she was going to get very loud... Greedily she snapped at it... looking up to her Master with a yearning look as he closed it for her. The connection was made. He knew now how much she needed him.

As she was cuffed to the bar, feet spread, from behind her, he put his hand on her ass and ordered the plug out. With a long drawn, low moan she complied... Then he inserted the tip of a syringe and forced 10 cc’s of lubricant in her behind and immediately began to force the largest plug up her ass, in a slow but single, determined, remorseless push. Two minutes later he held its widest girth just before the point of full penetration to dilate her, her breathing arrested. He enjoyed the sounds of despair, as muffled by the gag. He also enjoyed the movement of her body, arching her back bringing her asshole towards the plug, embracing it. Dilation was not the cause of her despair, impatience was.

Her breasts steadily streaming now, her cunt too, she was already far past the level of arousal that would have enabled her to cum on his command. Her legs gave way but the bench held her position for her. Subspace had come as a tidal wave. Sweeping her away. Then, the sound that she recognized even through her most intoxicating arousal, she heard the pump come alive and felt him moisturize her teats before placing the eagerly sucking cups on. All the way to her ankles now, her cunt had wetted her legs, almost as if it demanded desperately to be milked too. From behind her he squeezed her tits, handmilking her, opening the gates, forcing the maximum amount through her teats. How humiliated she felt, how utterly stripped of all dignity, how relieved, how voraciously horny.

Again she felt him, now opening her puss, occupying it, shoving an deep inside her, all the way against her cervix, leaving it there as his finger withdrew. Again he came in her, again and again, leaving every time a hard small bullet that together filled her comfortably.

She began bucking, cumming, as soon as he switched the fist vibrating bullet on whilst he pressed his thumb firmly on the plug...

“Did I give you permission to cum slave?”

All of her posterior began trembling as she started moaning with a passion, her oozing increasing to a steady drip, thick strands that hung from her salivating cunt coiling about as the rhythm of her shudders sent waves through them. And this only after he had switched the first bullet on its lowest setting. Her mind was gone. Erased. All that was left was the charged, electric bolt of energy that sparked back and forth continuously between her tits and cunt, her ass clamping the plug, pulling it in deeper.

“Still remember you need to ask my permission to cum, slave?”

“I do hope so”.

“I wouldn’t want to have to discipline you tonight”.

He wasn’t really being serious, not even sure if she could still understand. He just switched on the six bullets he had placed inside her on, one after the other every minute. And he enjoyed the view. All the waiting had come to an end and he just felt a deep sense of satisfaction only this full Dominance over the mind and body of his dear wife could bring. The sex would come. Later. Now he just watched with admiration at the fireworks he had created and savored the effects he knew would tighten the bond with which his slave depended on him. After this, their relationship would have reached a new height, her submission all but completed.

Then he started upping their power, one after the other every minute. Orgasm after orgasm pounded her, the next setting in before the first had even begin to wear off. 

For good measure he took a riding crop and started whipping her. The sides of her breasts, her ass and thighs. After almost twenty minutes of her moaning and screaming and squirting, the plug fucking her in the ass deep, in the rhythm and as a result of her own orgasmic convulsions, her cunt abuzz without check, her teats drawn and pulled and squeezed by the pump’s nozzles, she lay limp over the bench, shuddering, crying...

He pressed on the plug and in a single movement pulled back all the six bullets. Once more a violent spasm made her body jerk and cramp as she squirted. The clear warm liquid hit the floor with force and she sprayed herself as again and again and again a squirt  was forced out of her body that came accompanied by spasm after spasm, while she panted and moaned and cried, sobbed.

He then left her to fill the bath, left her in peace, so as that she could slowly regain her senses, without anything disturbing the afterglow, no sounds. He’d prepare the bath that they would share, the bath where he would claim the rewards for his good care.

For little girls (extended 05 Sept 2012):

"Yes, come in.” 

"Sit there." “I think its time we had a little talk girl."

"I’m a little concerned with your behavior lately..."

"Your nanny has come to me a few weeks ago to express her concern."

I pull the white cotton panty from my pocket and place it before me on my desk. I stare at you, the panty between my hands...

I pull it over my right hand, hold it up to you and spread my fingers, exposing the dried discoloration, clearly visible in its crotch, covering it completely; its delicate pink flowery motive wrinkled considerably, stained, soiled.

Your eyes start shifting immediately, fingers fumbling, your posture hunching suddenly, looking for a way out of this conversation and the room.

“I am beginning to share her concern”

I pause to drive the message home. This is going to have the better impact when properly drawn out.

"Your nanny also told me that you have been inviting boys to your room and... she has caught you secretly trying on her underwear and shoes before the mirror in your room."

“When you should have been in bed, I might add.”

Again I pause and savior the increase in the warm glow that has settled deep within me, enjoying the growing discomfort your body language so clearly shows. Slowly, you have started gently rocking on your chair... unconscious of its soft creaking.

"Do you have something to say to Daddy girl?"

“Look at me right this second, you impertinent young hussie!”

Nervously your eyes begin to turn to me, your face still turned away...

As I watch your face turn red, meet your gaze and hold it, I move my hand towards my face, your panty still spread on my fingers...

As I run it close by my nose you hear me inhaling strongly.

I close my eyes for a long second, then open them very slowly, revealing a cold stare that lingers for a while as I look at you.

Yes. 

I am concerned. 

My little girl has started showing clear signs of sexual activity and hid this from her nanny and me. 

I am concerned not of her becoming a grown woman, but of her becoming a... Of her showing improper, unwanted behavior, conduct unbecoming a girl of her breeding, upbringing. Exploring the sweet temptations of her sexuality, leading her to lowly debauchery. Turning her into a harlot, a wanton slut.

A young girls innocence is so easily and irreversibly corrupted, if only a man chooses that he wants to pick her fruits to discard her after tasting it, it will leave her confidence broken, leave her humiliated and fouled, spoiled and without reserve, set only to reclaim a man's sexual attentions she will become a whore. I will not have it.

"I'm sure you remember our little talk about girls having their first period and becoming woman"

"Do you?” 

“Remember?"

"Your nanny tells me we're not there yet, even though you are a bit late"

"But this tells me it will not be long"

The rhythm with which you are rocking back and front on the seat of the chair increases... 

You are not aware of this. 

You have spread your knees slightly, whereas just after I told you to sit down, you held these together tightly, defensively. 

Now though, you are centering your weight firmly on the seat... rubbing yourself against it.

All this I can read in my little girl. 

Even now, your sexuality has you firmly in its spell. I have summoned you just in time, clearly.

Such a vulnerable state can easily be taken advantage of by those that feel no love for you, those interested in only one thing.

Your libido fires up immediately in the vicinity of a grown male.

Even now.

Even as I called to discipline you and you sincerely dread what more is coming, as you should.

Even now.

Even more so, I would find out soon.

From behind the slightly opened curtains of your hair, your guilty gaze has not yet left mine.

Again I inhale the essence from your panty, looking at you. Its scent stirs the hot hard shaft of my cock as now it stiffens fully straining my pants under the desk. Its shiny, darkened purple, bloated head freeing itself completely now from inside its soft fold of foreskin, pulsing out a thick hot clear globulous drop of precum...

I groan as your essence triggers the natural state in me that it was meant to. 

I am your Daddy. 

But also an adult, strong male, in his sexual prime... 

Your blossoming sexuality effectively entices mine to respond. The energy between us is natural, as it should be.

You've never before seen me looking at you like this.

"This here tells me you have not been behaving as proper girls should".

I indicate your panty without a further word or gesture.

I keep my voice neutral and low, so as not to heighten your already strong sense of anticipation. This is a Daddy educating his daughter... This is love. The connection must not be broken to have its educational effect.

"We had agreed that you would not indulge in these things, entertaining impure thoughts"

"Haven't we?"

“We had agreed that always you were to tell Daddy, however confusing things would get”

“Haven’t we?”

"The dean from your school told me your grades are dropping"

"You are skipping classes and spending school time on the playground, with young men"

"Come stand over her girl"

You stand up, slowly. Shoulders bunched, arms hanging, hands fumbling in front off you, shielding your red face with your long hair as girls do...

A tear on your cheek. I know now you’ve no excuses and will submit.

Slowly you approach me to stand before me, shamefaced.

"That's it"

“It is time we teach you a lesson”

"Now turn around”

“That’s it”

“Now bend forward and lift your skirt"

I push back my chair as you are facing away from me, bending, lifting the hem of your shirt as high as you can. 

Seeing you from behind... Touching you gently on the back to move you to bend farther. My eyes fixing themselves on the pouting flower that comes into view... neatly contained in your skimpy panty, protected.

More precum... 

I savior the moment briefly as your virgin beauty, so close by releases all of the most primal, strongest urges within me. Only with great effort I can suppress them. Now, as I see individual, very light, coarse hairs escape the elastic confines of your panty, betraying a sparse fluff has started sprouting from your pudenda...

"Not another word out of you... little girl"

“You’ve had your chance”

My hands caress the skin on the back of your thighs as I position you exactly in front of me, squeezing your thighs, thumbs on their inside. A stifled sob... Shoulders shuddering vulnerably... I know your are confused. You are safe...

But this has to be done now girl.

How soft and warm you are... A blush spreads over your cheeks as I look at their perfection.

"Bend forward girl.., you know what to do"

"Now stand still for Daddy"

Already by the way the crotch of your panties clearly shows every minute fold and curve of your pouting labia I can tell you are moist and sticky with sexual arousal.

"Let's see what we have here.", I say as my hands slide up, squeeze your cheeks and pull them apart. 

I inhale sharply as I watch the cloth of your panties slide towards, bunch up in, the cleavage between your firm young buns. 

My balls are killing me; locked away, churning their hot fertile, virile load, pressurized to the point of bursting in mouths full of boiling squirts denied release...

Slowly I put my thumb on your crotch, right where the swollen outer labia part to provide access to your clitoris. 

I notice your thighs and buttocks firming, flexing as I touch you and start to press, slowly, firmly down on your delicate pink sexe-bud. 

The imminent and intense heat of your wetness is clear and welcome. I slide my thumb all the way up over your oozing slit towards your puckering tight butt... 

You clench and release, clench and release, fighting old instincts with new ones unexperienced...

As I feel your sphincter pucker and relax and pucker again, as if trying to french kiss my thumb, seduce it to give more, I watch the hot ooze of your wanting flesh feed the spreading stain in your panty.

You are wet. Very wet, indeed, I think with hard excitement, as I taste my thumb...

"Well girl, this appears clearly, to be exactly what I have been talking to you about, warning you for."

"Is there something you want to tell me girl?"

"Something Daddy should know?"

"You better start talking now"

"Else I will have to become very stern with you."

"Very well then"

"I understand that you have been behaving improperly, disobedient and have been doing so secretly, against our understanding"

"You will receive punishment for this, however I regret having to be the one to inflict it upon you, my love, I see no other way to curb your harlotry"

"Stand upright"

I straighten your skirt, unzip it and let it drop to your ankles.

Then with a gentle touch, slowly, I roll your panties down until they are just below your bottom.

A strand of your clear, odorous essence sticks between your wet panty and your pussy, shuddering... Between the full and swollen outer lips, even with your legs together... I see the smaller lips, shiny and wet, glistening, opened to expose your dark bright pink lined orifice clearly...

Even if you are confused and nervous, your body knows clearly exactly what it is ready for.

"Now you can go stand in the corner over there and think about it for a while"

"I'll let you know what we are going to do about you when I've decided and am good and ready"

Leaning back in my chair I look at you. There you are. All the little girl again. Muffling your sobs. 

Time and again my gaze and thoughts are drawn down to your creamy cheeks, clenching, your tightening thighs but above all the open pink wet  pouting flower they reveal, now clearly receptive for full sexual use and ready to provide its service. More than ten feet behind you, I can smell the powerful perfume of your arousal clearly, the seductive lubricating essence that marks your sexual fertility and preparedness. My gaze goes upwards, an inch, to where a slight tell tale shade and the clenching curve of you still hide the second of your secret assets.

The hard shaft in my pants stirs and buckles, my scrotum tight and hard both in full readiness for penetration and release. I suppress a groan... and sigh instead. Deeply.

It all convinces me that now is the time. The moment has come for me to act as I have planned for, so long and in such detail already. 

To do what I have desired so strongly but postponed so often as you were not ready before. To initiate you. Prevent you from exploring further on your own. To cultivate your femininity and harness your libido. Make you a woman, if still my little girl and keep you from the greedy hands, lascivious desires of young clumsy, unworthy men.

To claim you sexually as my own. Exclusively. To extinguish the fire of your libido until it needs extinguishing again. To tame it, feed it to please me and suppress it so as to be able to savior it until my desire is full once more.

But first I will have to hurt you. 

You will have to suffer and repent and learn that this is the way of a woman’s destiny. 

To serve her man. 

Put his pleasure and satisfaction first. 

To pay with hurt for failure or disobedience. To submit. All that you are. To me.

I rise.

“Come stand over here girl, behind my desk”

I push my chair away.

“Come on now”

You turn, gaze down and start shuffling towards me.

“Hands on the desk”

I grab hold of your upper arm and steer you into the position I chose for you.

“Feet back a bit, further apart”

“Move your head down further and push those buns out so as that I can see them better”

“That’s it”

I stand to your side and caress your buns...

Pull them apart to see it pucker above the shiny wet swollen lips, loosely opened in their reddened, full appeal.

I caress and kneed your buns and pull them apart hard to see your anal rose stretch and pucker and swell...

I kneel and place my tumbs on your slippery outer lips, your sparse covered in crystal beads of essence.

You moan a stifled moan.

“It’s alright little one”

“It’s all right”

I place my hand upon you and press my middle finger down and your lips open around it willingly.

Softly I rub you, the tip of my middle finger stroking ever so gently over that delicate sensitive young inexperienced clitoris to feel it swell.

Immediately you meet my rhythm, whimpering, soaking my hand, rubbing yourself against me harder than I am rubbing you.

“Yes girl, I know it feels good like that”

“I know it”

“That’s it, that’s how you like it, need it and deserve it”

I stiffen my finger and draw it up slowly, pressing. I watch as it sinks in between your inner lips and penetrates you and appreciate your vocal response as the instinct you show to tilt your lower body to press yourself upon it. Farther up I draw my finger, still pressing and watch the top digit readily accepted into your warm anus. You shudder and produce a whimpering, willing cry...

“Yes my girl, I know”

“I know how wet your are and it is good”

“I know what you need and want and I will give it to you”

“But first I have to serve you the penalty for disobedience”

“There can be no exceptions”

“Say “Yes Daddy””.

You reply.

“You will take ten of the cane, count them aloud and thank me for each one landing”

I had not expected you to cum immediately after taking the first stroke, all but at the very moment you realized your punishment's execution was inevitable, the cane had been raised and was traveling towards it defenseless, delicate target.

Even though I must admit I too experienced an intense surge of intensifying arousal as the light, hissing cane rod landed with a snapping crack; perfectly centered on the creamy, pale tender skin on the lower half of your soft cheeks precisely at the height of your rectum and avoiding the pink wet tender petals of your flower only just. I had to take the greatest effort to refrain form touching myself, as only a gentle touch at that point would have been enough to provoke a powerful and copious ejaculation instantly.

Your short cry sprouted exactly between intense agony and lust; as a single shock travelled through the tender tissue. Your body jerked in response your knees gave way as you fell flat upon the desk as a long, strong spasm took hold of you as you entered the orgasmic state. Gripping the far edge of my desk you thrust yourself against it surface, humping it in an instinctive response to impale yourself and receive deepest the deposition of sperm of the lover that was not there. Again. And again... As if a strong electric current passed through you. Then the shuddering started, in time with the sobbing. Orgasm drove its barbed fangs deepest into the very essence of your being... I stood back watching you, the cane lowered as obviously it would take minutes at the very least for you to return to earth. I must admit it all took my by surprise, off balance.

I had never dared hope for you to be so naturally, so purely a masochist... Never dared hope my sadistic desire would be so answered, surpassed by the still maturing strength of your nature almost.

Nine strokes still I had to resist the urge to scoop you up and comfort you, dry your tears, hold and pamper and care for you, nurse you, give in to my paternal, platonic love for you. Nine strokes before forgiveness and rapprochement. Nine more strokes... As I stared at your beautiful lithe frame, the round buttocks trembling in the lingering heat of your climax; the welt now crimson red and thick on you as you were moaning incoherently, still caught, high under the intoxicating spell of your first orgasm through pain only.., your face, the desk and carpet all wet with your tears and lubrication... I knew I'd never be able to live without you. Still I saw your openings contract as tight as they could, the two halves of the bright mark meeting in the middle and looking as if they were one; tens of seconds each contraction lasted as you were consumed by the energy of your climax. Still you blubbered as this made your whole body stiffen and tremble, again and again. It occurred to me that a caning in itself would never again suffice to control your behavior; you liked it too much... I'd have to find other ways to inflict discomfort on you and maintain the control you needed. Soon. Now. But still... nine strokes would have to be dealt out, to teach you I'd never come back on my word. I decided to take a break after that and fixate you somehow, somewhere, as I considered, decided upon a proper way to make you remember with the proper respect what it meant to call my wrath upon you, what my punishments encompassed; how I could hurt you if I wanted to, if you failed to meet my direction of your life.

My mind raced with the pulses that seemed to continue to inflate my cock to the point of bursting. Severe restrictions would have to come into effect today. Full bathroom control, a dress protocol, a strict and intense system of corporal penalization and obviously a far reaching limitation of masturbation and orgasm.

Far reaching. The control I would subject you to would be complete. Each and every detail of your further existence would be determined by me. Even the little time I’d leave you to yourself, would indirectly be spent in the way I would plan and orchestrate it for you. All your orgasms would be mine and would be reserved for those moments that I could enjoy them fully, savior their true and full value. All of them would carefully be planned as to further deepen your submission and response to my domination.

Oh my cock!

I closed my eyes and threw my head back as I became aware of you again, the easing of your climax leaving you whimpering. As if telepathically made aware, I responded to you return to conscience, all but inviting the next stroke reinvigorating the surge of endorphin for you to surf upon fully filled with the purest of pleasure.

For a second I stared at the ceiling as a flow of inspiration came to me.

I lowered the cane and placed my other hand at the small of your back, lightly rubbing the welt... Inhaling your smell as control came back to me and I responded to the plan as it materialized in my head.

First you’d would have to be gagged...

The thought of having to do that to you today. To remain without other alternatives to curb your enthusiasm... would never have crossed my mind. Off course I had known a long time that you had it in you to respond very well to kink and S&M. But I had never dared dream that you would be so responsive to it that it would become necessary for me to one day all of a sudden implement a full 24/7 regime. That your initiation would come so soon, so unexpected and that your submission would be so complete.

As you lay there, still humming softly, contently, I opened the drawer to the left of you, without the need for me to step away. I placed the cane on your back, neatly centered just above your buttocks and took the gag out of the drawer by the leather strap’s little buckle. 

It was a shiny bright pink ball fitted with two straps; one that fitted behind your head and one slightly higher. You needed no encouragement. As soon as I held it before you, you opened your mouth and closed your eyes... You took the ball in and held it firmly with your lips as I fastened it and could already hear your breathing through the nose now, becoming more laborious, its frequency increasing. I knew then that, save for a few... instructional interactions, I’d keep that gag where I had just put it for a long time. Days, if that would be what it took. I knew you knew about the gag and understood its significance, its effects, your need for it at this momentous time in your life. The forced silence would calm you. It would strengthen the effects of all that I would subject you to next... Soon I had your wrists cuffed to the far corners of the desk. Securely fixated, my arousal under control, it was time for a check up... I caressed the thick crimson bright welt with a single finger and felt our minds melt together as you responded... I noticed your essence oozing in strands from my desk upon the carpet and grabbed hold of your cheeks gently but firmly to unveil your swollen, dilated young pouting flower, a dark pink blush upon it, shining brilliantly in its wet invitation. 

The remaining nine strokes would initiate you. Afterward I would take all the time it would take to teach you what incredible high the deep submission brings a girl.

At six strokes you squirted for the first time in your life... I pushed forward, not sparing you a moment to recuperate or regain a shadow of control over your body or the proceedings. From high on your buttocks to halfway down your thighs my marks were upon you, beautifully symmetrical, evenly spaced. As endorphin and orgasm would fade the pain would increase. I would use it to make you remember, reinforce your submission to me... Now though, first, you and I both needed a rest. You needed it so as that discomfort could set in and take a firm hold without being hindered by arousal of any kind. Also you needed some time for the realization to sink it that a lot of things were never going to be the same again. It was time now to get you softened up for the mold. I needed some time to plan and organize a few things and bring all of my emotions back under firm control until the moment I could release them upon you in a constructive manner. And so you found yourself standing on tiptoes, naked in the dark empty basement, wrists bound together and chained to the ceiling... Cut off from the world. No sounds there but your own breathing. Out of synch completely with time.  Another discomfort slowly creeping up on you from below as the muscles in your legs were forced to maintain you posed on tiptoes. Every minute, every thought now adding to the simmering strain that spread from your calves to your thighs as squeezing your buttocks made the welts’ painful burn flare up. You had tried to hang from your wrists but couldn’t. Curvy as you were, you just lacked the muscle strength. Already your thighs had started to shake uncontrollably, convulsing, shivering. And I had not gone for half an hour...

This afternoon, for the first time, you would enter the second floor of the house. Where so often you had begged to be allowed to go.

It didn’t take me long to make everything ready. All tools and appliances were laid out. All rooms were in order. I had made the necessary calls, cancelled appointments. Within an hour I would have all the supplies I needed. The next seven days we would not have any need whatsoever to interrupt your training... I took you to your room and stood by as you used the bathroom, showered and dressed to my instructions; plain cotton undies and bra, just your school uniform, hair in a bun, the gag still in place. Hands cuffed behind your back I left you in the basement, in the dark for my final preparations...

As I came back you were sitting in the middle legs to one side and blinked as I switched on the lights, trying to adjust... I blindfolded you.

‘On your feet’. You did your best to comply promptly but still I urged you on...

‘Come on’. I grabbed your upper arm and lifted you to your feet. I felt a pang of fear rush through you as you cringed at my touch, knowing full well that the time spent alone was not meant as punishment but preparation for it... You had come to the realization that you had every reason to fear what you had called upon yourself, even though deep down your desire to undergo is was unshakable and firm. The fear was as strong as the desire and I would do everything to enhance one with the other. I smiled and for the first time in the last hour my cock stirred, stiffening fully, fast...

‘Come on’ I said in a soft voice as I pulled you to the door... 

I had searched her room. It had not taken me long to find the contraband that I had been looking for. Especially not after having a word with her nanny. The standard cache for stained panties was under the mattress. To no big surprise on my part I found more there... My little girl had hidden a lot more there. Thigh high cuban heel style seamed stockings, gartered and open crotch pantyhoses, a sheer and a fishnet catsuit, all of which bore her distinct scent clearly, as if she had worked out in them. These discoveries had made me suspect that there was more to be found. After going through all of her purses and bags, the closets and nightstands I had found her main stash in her favorite handbag. Not only the fact that it was a genuine Luis Vuitton had made her inseparable I now knew. This also made it easier to identify innocent looking beads as ben-wa balls and explained the clothespins. The vibrating egg was powerful confirmation; my baby had been playing with herself. Also, in her phone I discovered the history of several websites that -let’s say- I made sure to remember for my own entertainment later on; my girl apparently enjoyed watching other girls masturbate... as well as a large stock of self portraits in lingerie (most of which I had laid out on the bed now)...

Aah pamela,

You make the sorrow of parting strongest of all who leave.

Cane.

Pamela, you pose in heels and stockings, presenting your behind exemplary, shamelessly accessible right here on your profile.

How swiftly my hand will move up and in between your creamy firm thighs for my fingers to prod your fleshy wet, flowering hot genital folds,  and...

that most delicate, strongly alluring rosette of your wanting sphincter.

Yes. 

Caress my fingers whore, as inviting as you are sexually receptive and needy, as lustful as your beautiful, insatiable libido dictates. Feed the flames of my dominant arousal.

At once my demanding fingers will enter both of your precious orifices deeply, to hold locked and submit the very essence of your femininity within my grasp.

Mmh, how your subtle but distinct, contented squeeze is appreciated...

Yes.



I know that you want more.



Cane.

To whom it may concern... (2nd edit: continuance)

He had been furious and rightfully so.

Neglecting your tasks was one thing if only there had been just cause, which means almost any other reason than you dressing up and parading in front of a mirror all afternoon taking explicit videos of yourself and on top of that using this to fondle and excite yourself.

As always it had started out innocent enough, staring at your nude reflection in different poses in the large fitting mirror after your morning shower. You simply couldn’t resist walking past without doing so. The webcam on top of it was already switched on in preparation for your lustful morning ritual and record as you started to move, its red led light lazily blinking. Your nipples went dark and hardened around the studs that pierced them as you turned your gaze towards them while your hands cupped your perfectly shaped breasts. You slightly opened your hands and rubbed the underside of your breasts from left to right and back and sighed as the tingling started instantly. You traced the outside of them until your hands were on top, fingers towards on another and stroked slowly down, hands open still, over you nipples and with circular movements. This got them harder still and with your eyes closed you locked the delicate pink fleshy buds between thumb and forefinger and pressed down hard upon them. ‘Mmmh’. Harder. Again you sighed unable to contain your breath and felt a burst of sparks sprinkle from within them to tumble down. Down, behind your belly button and down further as you shuddered and the heat spread to your whole body and settled, urging you ever further onward to heed to it, ever further beyond the point of no return. You let your hands slowly trace the sparks, from your nipples over your flat, tightening belly, hesitant to go all the way down and provoke the kindling flame in fear of making it grow to fast for you to enjoy its radiance to the fullest, longest extent. Satisfied with the patience you were able to exercise, you turned your gaze downwards, following your hands slowly but determinedly whilst every spark increasingly made you crave more of them. Whilst continuously moving your hands over your tummy and breasts applying the most delicate of touches you rested your eyes on the delicate bald pink cleft that held you in a spell you were powerless to resist. Already moistening, its arousal was not yet advanced enough for your lips to start truly pouting, swell and part to release your body’s odorous lubricant to prepare your penetration, but this was at this moment only a matter of time. Drowsily you turned and –your eyes fixed on the mirror- headed for the closet. With the simplest of efforts, in seconds you selected the items you wanted and returned to the mirror with them letting them fall on the chair next to you. Still avoiding what had now become the source of all heat you caressed your body again, the sparks following your touch without check or error. Ever longer the prickling heat trailed your fingers, lingered where they had just been sinking deeper into your tissue. You turned and watched your hands as they circled over your buttocks and teased your flesh by trailing your nails over them, slowly giving in to the urge of squeezing and massaging them. You bend forward and looked back between your legs, assuming a position, legs wide that forced your buttocks slightly apart. Now too the delicate lips, starting to bulge as a result of your heightening arousal were unable to cling together modestly any longer and were forced to allow a small blooming separation, so uncovering, with what seemed like a pearl reflecting the light in the room that your body was prepared. You stared at yourself like that for the better part of a minute before you rose and smelled yourself for the first time. The first time after the shower that is.

Whilst massaging your nipple you looked at the items you had taken from the closet and picked up a delicate black, satin and lace corset. It had a one-third cup and eight garters. The lace was plain, no flowers or other decorations adorned it and the four baleens were enclosed in satin and reached a third down your hips. The sides were all black satin, all the way down. Its front was tied with a silken ribbon and wearing it excited you as much as putting it on, or having it taken off. You loved the slight restricting feeling that accompanied donning it and as you tightened the lace you took great care in arranging your pert titties in the seductive cups, which presented and emphasized their sexual appeal ever so much more than it restrained or covered them. That is why we like them. Your nipples, barely captured, showed through them puffy and pink and clearly also allowed the studs to hint for attention. Perfect wrapping for perfection. You stimulated them through the cloth as your eyes were once again drawn to stare further down, where your lips were now pouting distinctively, angry at the lack of attention they so badly needed, the want for which they so blatantly declared, opened, vulnerable and warm and sensitive. Only the knowledge that the postponement of providing what they, what you wanted so, would intensify the effect of finally giving into the increasing desire enabled you to withstand still their strong allure. You pirouetted before the mirror left and right and ran your hands up and down the fine lace and satin before picking up and unravelling those wonderful ultra sheer, gossamer, black Cuban heel style seemed stockings. Their tops were fashioned in a series of lighter and darker black, a good five inches wide. Carefully you prepared them as you ran your hand inside and placed your foot on the chair, all the whilst making sure your pose was as explicit and gracious as possible for the ever spying mirror and camera to perceive; back straight, shoulders back, nipples pointing as you started your foot in the first one and with slender tender fingers started caressing the silk up to your thigh in a delicate, evenly applied series of graceful gestures, which you prolonged to the maximum duration, only barely progressing upward. The feeling provoked your pussy to stir ever more intense until it reached full bloom, all of the surface of your lips now wet and glistening up to the point of secreting your fluids generously but not yet passing this boundary. You played a bit with the top, placing it just right and even across, halfway up your thigh. Your flesh spasmed slightly as your fingers touched it and you push forward your hips on after the other to study your image. The desire to see, present yourself in the four inch heeled black slippers made you loose some of your composure together with your patience as you hurried for the next stocking to come all the way up, unaware of your tongue sticking out in suggestive gesture. A few times you puckered, bit your lips as you were completely and wonderfully consumed in sweet intoxicating foreplay. As soon as you were content, you lifted your foot to be on tiptoe on the chair as you arranged the top and proceeded to fasten the first garter, guiding your movements by observing yourself in the mirror. You had done this before and regained enough of your consciousness to instinctively again straighten your back. One at a time you fastened the half-inch wide satin garters and immediately stepped into the heels and took your place straight in front of the mirror making the last arrangements at the stockings top before turning around and checking both, perfectly aligned seems with your hands caressing your hips. Your bottom was slightly but tastefully pronounced by wearing the heels and now framed in seductive, silken and lacy grandeur on all sides and your hands were drawn to touch them. You spread your legs. Again you bend over, grasping your ankles and looked. Immediately you saw the first swollen drop of your crystal clear warm essence be squeezed from your now aching, perfectly nude, fully prepared sexe and spatter the wooden floor between your pretty feet in a dark star shaped mark causing your pointy tongue to instantly lick your lips slowly. Your hands started to snake along your silken clad legs towards your thighs and stroked these in slow circles. Another drop was released… ‘Mmh, gooood.’ ’All pretty and sexy and beautifulmmm’, you murmured unconsciously before you let go of a sigh that voiced only, plain lust. You got up turned around and pulled the mirror to the bed and placed it perfectly in the centre in front of it and tilted it slightly. Not only would you be able to look at yourself when you’d lie down but the every blinking camera would register everything for you to relive the experience of share it. All else that you needed was still on the nightstand from the evening before… You kneeled on the bed and made sure you were exactly opposite the mirror and immediately lost yourself again in your own image. As your hands restarted tracing your body again, irresistibly drawn towards your breasts. They responded to your renewed attention with vigour, immediately hardening and heightening the sensitivity of your whole body as you twisted the studs and pinched yourself. Your right hand went down by itself, irreversibly now and with an open hand you obeyed to the demanding call of the strongest of your natural urges stroke once and then pressed hard upon your smooth, slippery lips wetting all of your hand at once. You were still trying to restrain yourself just a little, when your hips buckled forward instinctively to answer to the presence of your hand and add to the pressure your body craved for so. In a second your resistance caved in completely as you started to shudder all over, moaning and hissing. ‘OOOOOOOOOOO yeahhhh… MMMMMMMMMMM SO gooooood’.

As if they were mine, your hands started an enchanting interaction between themselves and your ever accumulating lust. The warmth radiating through your body from between your legs left you unable to withstand, demanded you answer to it, caress yourself to feed it, nurturing it into a raging fire not slowly but ever so surely. All to soon your fingers were deep within you. You pinched your nipple as tight as you could, rolling it between your pressing nails. But what would’ve stung twice to painfully to bear in an independent, unsuspected gesture, now only held the intricate sensations below in some sort of check and for that reason the pain too added to your arousal. Slowly now you let yourself fall to the bed with your eyes closed and continued inflicting more and more pain on your nipples, left after right and back to the left again., pinching, pulling and squeezing them while your hand finally motioned to press a single finger harder than the others so that your pouting, reddening hot lips enfolded, lubricated it on its way inside you. You started fingering in a fast rhythm, once, twice, three times. Every time stopping to circling your clit with the tip of your finger, pressing upon it harder and harder every time, before thrusting your finger back in. ‘AAAAAAAHHH’. You opened your eyes and looked into the mirror and perceiving your image sent a bolt of lightening through you that made your pussy contract around your finger just as it was in you deepest. Our buttocks clenched in reflex and the warm glow building up everywhere inside you increased sharply. ‘FUCK!’.., ‘FUCK!’..,‘FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!’, you uttered loudly through clenched teeth, in rhythm with the convulsions of bliss that engulfed you. You repositioned yourself on the bed, biting your lip, never stopping to pull on those nipples and reached for the vibrator on the nightstand. It was a flexible, purple rod, shaped like a real cock, eight inches long and two and a half wide and it took less than a second for you to receive it all with a delicate squirting sound as you spread yourself wide to provide a clear view to the camera.

The whole room smelled of the warm intoxicating odour of your arousal soon already. It felt good giving in to your urges, surrendering to them so completely, so good you wanted it to last forever. You were frantically pumping the whirring vibrator in and out of your foaming pink, smooth tasty pussy forcing the lips outward to swell even more with every thrust. It’s warm wet pouting folds clenched the hard red shaft tightly, coloured dark red with their heat, producing delicate sucking sounds. You were aching to be relieved now, swearing sweating and panting, moaning and hissing. You twisted the stud in your nipple hard, halfway round and further, ever harder and every now and then you pinched your clit and rubbed it between your fingers as you felt the surge of relieve start in the centre of you abdomen. Now you started to tap your clit too. Just as you were about to squirt and soak the mattress with your hot nectar, the door slammed shut with an unexpected, loud bang that startled you even while your conscious was a mere fraction of a second from sinking into deep orgasm. A shock went trough your body, a high pitched scream escaped you as all the arousal seemed to have withdrawn from your body in an instant. It took a second before your senses got to think about refocusing, on the new situation now. Still with your legs pulled up and the vibrator in you the realisation came that it had been the door that startled you so and with a sharp inhale you became aware of your Daddy standing before you while your eyes were still on their way to the door. The contraction that came with full awareness, accompanied by fear forcefully expelled the vibrator from you. You instinctively tried to stop it but were too slow. Together with a gulp of your body’s clear hot lubricant the red rod slipped onto the mattress and stayed standing upright against your body, still whirring, while you groped for it hesitantly clumsily as your brain told you that you had bigger issues to face now than repenetration. Your pussy sputtered and spit loudly from the sudden fear that constricted and held your body, spraying drops of your essence all over the satin sheets. Slowly you settled and didn’t dare move a muscle…

‘You filthy little harlot.’

For Rose

Never before had you felt so alone. Nothing but the sound of your breath and the occasional rattle of your chain was there to accompany you. You had lost all impression of time, hours ago already and the deep loneliness seemed to have been your only companion all off your life as you so well realised now, squarely confronted with your longing to belong by these moments of forced seclusion. The darkness, total, provided both a comfort as well as added to your apprehension. Time and time again, every minute you felt an overpowering presence but could only conclude again that you were the only one there now that the odalisques had gone.

One second you felt sure that you had done the right thing surrendering control, the only thing that would provide you with what failed you, what you had longed for, craved so long. Utter despair forced itself upon you not a second later, entering every and all fibres of your mind and being, pressing hard and unrelenting, stripping you from all dignity and hope as you felt tears welling, as trapped, jailed, helpless as in fact you were.

Four nights before: 
 

You’d received and accepted an invitation you were unable resist as was well known by its sender. From the moment you broke the pentagram shaped, red wax seal on the envelope you seemed to have been powerless and without a will other than to accept wholeheartedly, not a single thought of doubt had crossed your mind since, that you would accept the invitation and all it would lead you into. Maybe because you knew what the envelope contained, word for word, all two pages of it, before you had read a single word of it. Maybe because the peace of mind you had felt upon touching the seal, the subtle comfort that entered your mind and made you sleep sound as never before, awakening odorously wet and sore after vivid dreams forgotten entirely, rested and calm, balanced and strong.

Two nights before:

After receiving the invitation you had written a letter, a long one, listing all of your needs, wants and fantasies, a long and vividly elaborated memorandum of your fetishes and a well motivated application for permission to submit. You had put the pen to paper dreamily and the words had poured out without thinking, without check, for two hours. All of yourself had you now given to the discretion of the paper and quill and upon surrendering the document you’d never have any of it back. Word for word the bliss builded, your mind becoming more and more peaceful and balanced as certainty grew ever more powerful that your destiny was finally materializing with every word, syllable, second. Even less conscious of your surroundings you had prepared for departure immediately after; bathing long, grooming minutely, unable to resist yourself, declining to clean after, selecting only a long silk black dress and heels after, without any conscious thought complying to the written instructions, detailed and intriguing, demanding and definite.

A taxi had been there to pick you up in front of your apartment though you had not called for one. The driver watching you in his mirror all the way, wanting to comment, wanting more, much more than that but powerless to speak or act to his own wants and departing before you could pay him, leaving you in front of the tall gates on the road paved with slippery cobbles. High iron, black gates, twenty feet wide, twenty high of bars as thick as your wrists, lit only by the moon just as the seemingly endless pathway they guarded. Arrowheads and spear points lining its crest, demons, dragons and serpents clinging to the bars in elongated contortions, all turning their heads to direct their steel, all knowing, sentencing gaze directly into your soul ominous, foreboding and repelling to anyone but you. You noticed nothing of this and ever less. Not even the pack of dogs awaiting you behind the gate, salivating and growling, jumping against the gate trying to get over it, barking and fighting amongst one another, establishing domination amongst their hundreds. Already you floated inches above the pavement and started higher and faster to be drawn in between the slowly opening, hissing gate as the last of your hesitation and will were left to seep in between the shiny cobbles, full moon becoming a new one as even it seems to abandon you.

Into the starless darkness you were drawn, ever faster over the pathway, a winding road through lanes of black bizarrely serpentine weeping willows, your long hair tracing, the silk of your dress pressed forcefully against your curves, caressing you, the cold night air teasing you, adding to the ever growing arousal that had been there since opening the letter, which you had given into without restraint and which had grown with every second, every action following another. The dogs trail you, running, howling and barking, jumping to reach you and clapping their jaws to catch your dress, pull you down and tear you apart in seconds but I will not let them. Not now.

Over one hill then another and another until finally the dark manor was reached and you lost consciousness all together.

An hour later:

When the gentlest of touches awoke you, you were unable to speak or move, floating in darkness face up, arms spread wide, legs bend and slightly apart. Your dress gone, nude and pure. Countless silken hands caressing, rubbing into all of your skin a warm scented oil. Although the darkness was complete, into your mind floated all the images I allowed to. Nude but for their veils, pretty and sensual the four odalisques groomed you now to perfectly please me. The images of their perfect bodies provoked you into trying to touch, grasp.., taste. Make yours and posses. I noticed this with pleasing approval but preferred not to allow any of these wants to be rewarded. Their slightest touch removed every unwanted hair, every blemish and scar from your skin, forever leaving you pink and sensitive and perfect. One of the girls washed your hair and groomed it in a knot high upon your head, others massaged your face and ears, hands and feet.

As all four of them began to rub the ever hotter oil into your skin using their own, you panted and surrendered to your lust and theirs, feeling their firm breasts trace your skin, nipples large and hard, their thighs moving and pressing between yours as they panted and sighed. Their delicate fingers rubbed your nipples and labia, swirling and circling the folds of your sexe, pressing, stroking and prodding down further even, everywhere whilst other grasping hands massaged your breasts and buttocks. Minutes went by. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty, as the girls panted and moaned louder and louder, their cries echoing, forever higher and building upon themselves, their hands frantically touching, pinching, grabbing and squeezing you everywhere, thrusting their hips and thighs faster and harder, leaving you all wet of their fluids and yours until… they were gone and alone… all alone you wriggled your hips, floating. In the dark, holding your breath. Dressed now, clean. Not warm, sticky and wet as seconds before but still suspended in mid air, arms and legs wide. Your feet voluntarily, through no influence of mine, positioned heels pointing inwards as the barbs on a hook, gracefully but also to pin and press hard upon anyone that will enter your ready, open and wet, wet rose.

-I do so adore to leave this final gesture of availability and invitation to women themselves, even though I’ll have my way with them, one way or the other-

Cold air surrounds you suddenly, carrying a strong smell of mould and moist, fungi and soil; the very essence of the oubliette I chose as your boudoir for our first night.

All your curves tightly caught by the crotchless see through black cat suit, it’s opalescent silken cloth and seems tracing the delicate curves of your body, arms and legs. Your waist captured in turn by a formal, black satin, silk laced corset presenting those wonderful, firm round veiled breasts in their full blooming semi-naked silk clad splendour, seductively presenting their large nipples standing firmly to attention, trembling subtly with every hesitant anxious breath. A lace rose adorns the centre of the corset under your breasts. Both the cold and your radiant arousal they showed me, tantalizingly veiled in contrast to the exposed ripe fruits high between your thighs, the pouting lips allowed to open by your frenzied lust, parting eagerly to reveal your swollen wanton pink clitoris in all its delicate and vulnerable, glory.

The burgundy red satin garter was there, circling the firm flesh of your creamy silk clad trembling thigh as a symbol of your aspirations for admission into my power. If I'd allowed it to remain there after that night, it would stay on you forever and your submission will have been made total, irrevocable.

You were to suffer either way before I came to my decision.

She was beautiful, inside and out. It took all my patience to get closer to her core as I wanted, without pushing her away but from the very start I had this hunch that it would be more than worthwhile.

Young, inexperienced and full of all sorts of confusing  thoughts and dreams, shame. We talked. A lot. Evenings went by with me just answering questions, explaining things to her. About myself at first, mostly. Just as I was losing interest she send me a picture, nothing special really but her looks were gripping, answering to all my preferences, so I decided to give it a go an stay on her case. As time progressed so, slowly and gradually did the subjects of our conversation, while the thought of dominating, cultivating this beautiful creature into my subject grew ever bigger and more intense. I made sure the subjects of our conversation were always initiated by her and remained serious throughout the whole correspondence, careful not to hurt her feelings or add to her insecurity.

Through the usual small talk, the basics of life gave way to those of relationships, men and women, love, until finally I was able to get her to talk why she had contacted me in the first place. Still, she remained somewhat vague as to give me an insight in what she craved. She already knew, but could not bring herself yet to voice her thoughts on these subjects.

Our first real life contact, if anything, only made her more and more appealing to me.

I knew now I had to have her. Unbeknown to her, her innocence had hooked me.

Due to the age difference we raised some eyebrows in the club, but she seemed oblivious to this and I got the impression that she finally was eager to open up completely but now that she was, she needed more private surroundings to really do so. Once again I tested my patience and passed. She loved the attention I was giving her and my sincere interest in her thoughts and feelings. I commented on her good looks and had to restrain myself to do so only once. She wasn’t al dressed up to my liking but didn’t reveal all she had either. I could tell she liked very short skirts and lace though.

One moment she was full of fire, showing a blush of excitement, then again she’d stumble over her words and blush with embarrassment. I was virtually impossible for me to keep my eyes of her lovely, young hard and petite body but fortunately the club was somewhat dark.

In the end, in front of her dorm, she broke. As I opened the door for her she started crying for she didn’t want to leave me and finally felt ready to come clean. She admitted that she had been wanting me to accept her as a novice, but couldn’t bring herself to take the step and speak her mind. It was all so confusing for her, all these pent up fantasies and emotions, voicing them now for the first time and having them answered in a way she hadn’t dare to dream about. I was cool on the outside but cooking within. I knew now I was getting close.

It took some comforting and luckily for me it was our agreement to meet again, in private this time, that finally calmed her down in my arms. I caressed her, stroked her hair and back, pulling her close to me whilst avoiding she couldn’t feel my throbbing, rigid member. In the end I took her hand and led her to the door as I noticed she was rubbing herself against me seemingly subconsciously, trying to crawl inside me, pressing her pert breasts to my chest. With a kiss on the cheek and my hand on her ass I motioned her inside and left. My cock was about to burst out of my pants all the way driving home and I had to release the pressure before I could sleep, twice.

I took care encouraging her to continue talking, writing to me the following week, taking away any embarrassment she felt as a result of crying. I urged her to continue where we had left off in the club and paint to me the picture of her fantasies and needs. This took some effort and careful writing but finally I was given an insight into her true nature. She had a strong libido, innocently masturbated often without being able to reach orgasm. She didn’t even know there was a name for it until I told her. This subject didn’t go to well with her girly friends, so it started to lead its own life since she’d already ruled out her parents as a result of their conservative life style. She wasn’t risking a scornful judgement and sentencing from them. This had isolated her for a long time but in turn had made her free to take no lead except her own causing some pleasure more ever more confusion and doubt. Now for the first time she felt she had someone who understood, she felt accepted and normal and started to feel a strong urge to explore more. The last days, after our date, this urge had become all consuming, especially after I started sending her some of my pornography. She started telling me all of her previous and current fantasies, some childishly innocent, some utterly, shockingly perverse. She wanted to know everything about everything, seemed ready to try anything but continued, albeit with less emphasis, to voice her embarrassment. It was the right time to take her under my wing and submit her. I took upon explaining that initially she’d benefit most from a Total Power Exchange, so as that whilst progressing her experience she’d find out what her preferences were exactly and could further pursue these. She admitted without any action on my part that her major interest was to serve in any way that was demanded of her, that it filled her with irresistible excitement to be without limits for her Dominant, whilst at the same time she said she had no idea where this would lead. I could have known that everything would work out fine from there but somehow she was so precious to me that I couldn’t, wouldn’t relax my efforts to take care of her and think of ways to make this a success.

I knew for sure now that I wouldn’t be able to contain myself the next time we would meet so I took care in preparing our rendez-vous in as much detail as possible, whilst avoiding to make her nervous, to nervous. I wanted her to be comfortable on the one hand, but wouldn’t for the world consider making the process of breaking more easy for her. On the contrary. I was firmly intent on enjoying every aspect of her initiation to the fullest and saviour every second of driving her towards the uninhibited acceptance of my domination.

Carefully I prepared her for the fact that for our next meeting we would assume different roles right from the start and would not be a couple on a date. She appeared prepared for this and suggested for this meeting I’d call her ana. I continued by laiying out the ground rules. She’d call me Master Cane, I’d call her ana. She promised me several times that she’d try her utmost to do as I ordered her. Naturally I had taken great care to convince her this was for her own best and that all I’d do would be in her interest first. Next, it took no convincing at all that she’d enter my home dressed as an expensive prostitute, which she surprisingly said she’d been prepared for and willing all the while. Immediately after entering the house she would undress, present herself for inspection and inquire as to what service I required of her.

This way we could get down to business right from the start, without any more Q and A or other delay. Off course, I didn’t tell her everything I had in mind… but I was sure that –if everything went right- she’d be mine wholeheartedly and without restraint. I couldn’t wait, no more, not a second.

At last the moment was nearing. Everything was set to go. Champagne chilled, camera mounted. I had chosen the garden for our little session. It was secluded, no spying eyes other than my own. The weather was perfect. The doorbell rang.

There she was, wearing a trench coat and carrying a leather overnight bag, black silk stockings and high lacquered heels. All accessories seemingly out of order and further emphasizing the subtle, tasty size of her persona. She blushed and looked at me expectantly and I had to make an effort no to lock her in my arms there and then, but appear reserved and neutral. It worked, she too regained her posture and seemed to sense the right atmosphere and the required demeanour.

‘I believe we have an appointment… Master Cane.’

I just hoped she wouldn’t look at my crotch because that would’ve been a dead give away right there.

‘Indeed we do, step inside.’

I let her pass and closed the door. She spun around on her heels as a professional stripper to face me again.

‘Where do you want me, Master Cane?’, her face slightly downwards, eyes pointed up to meet mine, looking deceptively innocent and crushingly seductive.

This went well.

‘I’ll have you in the garden.’

She didn’t really hesitate but I saw much of her confidence falter as soon as the words fell into place. I didn’t want to waste a second so step passed her to lead the way.

‘Follow me.’

We entered the garden through the living room her heels pertly clicking behind me trying to keep up. She made no remark about the camera so neither did I. Fortunately, it was already running, so all that happened would be available for viewing later, without me having to refer to it any more now.

‘Please, your bag and coat.’

She handed the bag to me and I held out my hands to take her coat from her slim, fragile figure from behind. My breath caught… and I stood there for what looked like hours, staring, hypnotized by the slim, tanned, firm puppet before me. The see through black silk stockings were set with seems that ended in a wide lace band hugging her thighs, held up by garters that led even further up, over her wonderful firm, well formed ass cheeks to a satin and lace waist corset. Her shoulders were bare and she handled her sudden nudity well although she did huddle a bit, shoulders high, hands in front of her pubic area. She flung her hair to one side which was my wake up call. I regained my composure and awaited her gaze with a neutral expression as she made the full turn towards me, or wasn’t I? Her breasts were perfect, pert, firm. Her small nipples were dark and pointy with a fairly large, puffy rosette, adorning them as a pink halo suggesting they were veritably sacred. I still couldn’t breath, swallow, speak. I coughed, twice. In a flash it occurred to me that the champagne could bring the relief I needed so much then. I took the bottle with her coat over my arm and her bag in my hand, just as she was about to speak.

‘Do you like m…’

I could only just interrupt her and save the day or I would have been rendered powerless to her.

‘Champagne?’

She hesitated but continued as a professional.

‘Please, Master Cane.’

This champagne part would off course not be the normal routine but I gathered she could use some to relax a bit, I could for certain at that time.

I poured two glasses and handed one to her, we toasted ‘on fair weather and company’.

‘I’ll just take care of your bag and coat now’. ‘Stay here.’

‘Yes Master Cane.’, she said in a determined tone.

I returned and took my glass and her hand and held it at shoulder height. ‘Let me have a look at you, you beautiful girl you.’ She relaxed, took a pace back and swinging from left to right on her feet, with only the slightest hesitation and a nervous giggle showed me heaven in her angelic flesh.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

‘Good’.

‘Take off your clothes, slowly.’ ’I want to watch you carefully.’ I said as I let myself fall into a padded deckchair.

She started to undo her corset immediately, starting with unfastening the garters from her stockings, slowly then did she undo the back, this was not an easy task due to all the ribbon, but she managed and I enjoyed the way her breasts took on another shape while she stood with her arms behind her back. My dick was hard, the camera running.

She let the corset fall from her body, sliding along her legs and stepped out of it. The one second she moved her shoulders and head in a way as to hide her nudity, the other she looked into my eyes and I could see the dark spark of heated arousal in her eyes. She stepped out of her shoes…

‘Turn around now, for the stockings.’

She did, glanced once over her shoulder and bend forward provocatively as she started to slip the left stocking of her leg by entering her fingers under the silk and caressing her flesh all the way down to her ankle. Luckily I could wipe the sweat of my brow as she was not looking. Only then did it occur to me that I forgot to peek between her buttocks, what I had wanted to observe for so long already. As she undid her second stocking I took my time to watch that pretty little peach between her legs peaking at me, noticing a small, tiny sparkle.

‘Turn around and let me have a look.’

I enjoyed a few minutes of looking at her to build up tension and this worked. I had champagne, appeared relaxed but on the inside I was screaming with excitement.

Now she was naked. Her petite, hard body within my close reach. She was breathing heavily within a minute of my silence, her chest heaving, her young tanned breasts beckoning me to take them into my hands. Her brown hair glistened in the sun as darkened silver.

She had placed her feet close together and all self confidence seemed to have been drained from her. Her eyes darted through the garden and over her body, going anywhere to avoid mine but steadily meeting my gaze from time to time even if it was only for a few fleeting moments. Her hands kept wandering everywhere. I did so enjoy her struggle. My pants were bulging but I couldn’t care less. With an effort I remained sitting back.

‘Come now girl, present yourself to me.’

‘Place your feet apart some more.’ She did so immediately.

‘Goood.’

‘No straighten you back, shoulders back, hands behind you head.’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

‘Good.’ ‘Wonderful.’

‘Are you feeling OK?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

I rose from the chair and carefully, with the slightest touch, to which she responded immediately and very sensitive, I pressed her elbows a bit further back and urged her to tilt her hips so that her fine buttocks stood out more. I saw her nipples hardening into tiny hard dark gems and could only with great effort resist taking her right at that moment.

‘Now lower your eyes.’

‘That’s my girl.’

‘Good, this is how you present yourself to me when I tell you to.’

‘How does that feel.’

With an giggle and sigh that could not be suppressed the words came out: ‘Exciting Sir.., M..Master Cane.’

‘Good.’ ‘Good.’

‘Now I will require you to let me inspect you.’ ‘All of you.’

‘Understand?’

‘Yes Master Cane’, she nodded convincingly, but breathing hard as if she were to jump from a cliff in a second.

‘Good.’ ‘I just want to see if your hair is clean and well brushed, that you are wearing the jewelry I prescribed or not and your overall hygiene is in order and as I prefer.’

Next I held her by the neck with my right hand and moved her face from left to right. Her eyes avoided me, which I found stimulating. I let go, she dropped her gaze. I positioned myself next to her and lifted her arm, first left, then right, to find that she had shaven her armpits according to my instructions, probably only this morning. I smelled her deodorant and saw a slight gleam resulting from heat and strain.

‘Good.’

I stood behind her and placed my hands on her hips, gently stroking her there, moving towards her belly, feeling her suddenly holding her breath as my hands moved up. She sighed deeply and startled as I cupped her breasts and felt my erection stir and buckle. I massaged her warm breasts slowly as she breathed with difficulty her mouth open now, her head slightly falling back. I gently rubbed her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and she froze for a second then started to tremble all over, uttering uncontrolled, meaningful moans.

‘My, you have such beautiful breasts.’ ‘Do you know that ana?’ ‘Do you?’ ‘It is O.K., you may speak.’

‘Thank you Sir.., Master… Cane.’

‘That’s my girl ana.’

‘Now ana, I want you to bend forward for me, remember, legs straight.’

A gentle push against her waist was all it took for her to bend far forward.

I kneeled behind her, stroking her buttocks, massaging them, kneading them.

Her smell caught me before I knew it, filling my head and driving me wild, increasing the rate of my breath. Slowly I lowered my eyes to see her.

First I took my time to enjoy the sight of her anus, tight and beautiful, clean and pink, wrinkled and clenching. I savoured the slow convulsions she showed as ana strained to hold her balance. I punt my thumbs next to her hole and spread her buttocks slowly, wide, wider still. Her breathing became heavy and laboured again.

Next I let my thumbs slide down spreading her outer labia and opening her small hole. Small droplets formed and made her appear wet and glistening.

She was beautiful, young, clean, bald and very tight, just the way I liked it. She had taken great care to remove all the hair, I couldn’t distinguish even a single one dark stub.

I took a few deep breaths of her aroma and pushed her clithood back with my thumbs. Her whole body started to shake, her buttocks trembling, she let out a single soft cry ending in a deep moan.

‘That’s good ana, very good.’

You may regain the position for presentation now.’

I rose and stepped in front of her.

‘Now ana, we need to talk.’

‘You did very good, very good.’

‘I am proud of you ana, very proud.’

‘Just stand there for now, present yourself a while longer.’

‘Would you like some more champagne?’

She nodded, still shaking, forgetting to answer me properly. At this point I was already too turned on to make an issue of that so I poured her another glass and made her drink from my hand.

‘Here you go girl.

‘Yes Master Cane.’

She swallowed and a nervous giggle escaped her.

‘Just relax, you’re doing fine.’

‘Thank you Master Cane.’

‘That’s O.K..’

‘Now ana, I will ask you some questions and I want you to answer me truthfully.’

Another sip of bubbly.

‘Understood?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

‘Do you wish to be collared by me ana?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

‘Do you wish to submit to me and serve me in any way I will demand of you ana?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

She nodded vigorously.

‘Do you promise me that you’ll never question my ownership of your mind, body and soul ana?’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

‘Good girl ana, I hereby accept you as my slave for me to do with whatever I see fit, to educate and guide, protect you when, how and where I deem necessary.’

I opened the collar and held it high, she lowered her head. As soon as it touched the nape of her neck she held her head high and we looked into each others eyes.

I closed the collar around her neck and held her in my arms, comforted her as she cried.

‘That’s my girl, it’s alright, you can cry, don’t be afraid now.’

I gave her the rest of the champagne in the glass and poured myself another one in her glass and sat down on the deckchair. I took a biiiiig sip and downed it.

‘Now ana, I want you to kneel for me, here.’ I pointed in front of me.

She was eager now, balanced and it took her less than a second to take her place.

‘Straighten your back.’ ‘That way I can better enjoy those lovely breasts.’

‘Good.’ ‘Now spread your thighs and place your hands on them, palms up.’

‘That’s my pretty girl, that’s my slavegirl.’ ‘Now lick your lips and keep them wet, your mouth opened only slightly.’ ‘Good, this is how I want you to present yourself when I tell you to offer me your mouth.’

‘Do you understand, ana?’

‘Yes, Master Cane.’

‘Very good girl.’ I took another sip, barely able to contain myself, hiding the tremble in my hand.

‘Now I want you to turn around, assume the same position but the lower you body so that your buttocks stick up high.’

A second later she was ready and perfect.

‘Good girl, now spread your buttocks with both your hands so as that I can get another good look at how pretty you are down there.’

‘Yes Master Cane!’ ‘For you Master Cane.’

She was enjoying this, I was going insane trying to control my posture looking at her beautiful pink openings, tight, moist and scented with her seductive hallucinogenic perfume. I took a breath, a sip, another one.

‘This… is how I want you to present yourself… when I tell you to offer me your anus or your pretty pussy.’

‘Do you understand, ana?’

‘Yes.., Master Cane.’ A little more doubt in her voice there.

‘Now ana, I want you to go to the table and put on the cuffs that are there around your wrists and ankles and then I want you to poor me more champagne.’

‘Yes, Master Cane.’

She hurried up and lashed on the cuffs, taking the time to watch herself with a big content smile when fully ‘clothed’, her face beaming with a blush.

‘Do you like them ana?’

‘Yes, Master Cane, I like them very much.’

‘Then get me my champagne you lazy girl, I’m thirsty.’

‘Sorry Master Cane, I.. I forgot.’ ‘I am sorry.’

‘I’m sure you did but you must also understand that this will not stand, I give you the collar and the cuffs, I told you to pour me champagne, yet you prefer to indulge in vanity before serving me.’

‘Do you understand ana, that this must have consequences?‘ I stood up, thankful for the opportunity to play with her mind and deepen the impact of our session. This provided a welcome chance to get to business.

I saw uncertainty take hold in her.

She answered ‘Yes, Master Cane’, but hadn’t expected this.

‘Give me my champagne and come kneel here on the deckchair.’

She said nothing but there was no doubt in her actions, she complied with my instructions immediately. She kneeled on the chair and bend forward, her head towards the head-end of the chair, her small firm buttocks sticking out tempting.

‘For being disobedient, I will punish you ana.’ I started rubbing her buttocks as I held one arm on her back.

‘Now lower your body.’

She complied. More I caressed her cheeks.

‘Punishment can sometimes be issued in the form of a spanking ana.’, I said as my first playful stroke landed. Her breath escaped her but she remained composed.

‘Yes, Master Cane.’

‘You naughty, naughty girl ana.’

‘Yes, Master Cane.’

More rubbing, another gentle stroke. I stepped up the pace, talking to her, made her answer me, confirm that what she did was bad, that she had been a bad girl and bad girls deserved punishment from their Masters. Short, strokes, more and more. I made her tell her that this was good for her and spontaneously she started to thank me, loudly, for every single stroke.

Then suddenly, amid the short fast strokes I started to exert more force, incidentally at first but slowly starting to shift from the fast, short strokes ever more to the harder ones. I caught her breath, she was breathing in rhythm with my strokes soon. Her buttocks turned a wonderful deep red as a result of her tan and so… did her face. Her mouth was open she was moaning uncontrolled in the rhythm of my strokes, panting, her firm titties shaking as her whole body rocked back and forth on the chair. My hands were killing me by now but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I would continue this, whatever the cost. I watched with growing arousal as my strokes travelled through the firm flesh of her buttocks. And then she started to flow, copiously. First only glistening but in a matter of ten seconds her thighs were sticky and shining, her smell filling the air and my nostrils. I tried to regain my composure but it seemed we were in some symbiotic mania. I couldn’t resist slapping her faster and faster yet as the increase in tempo clearly was pushing her to a sure orgasm easily and she underwent it with such explicit, total inhibition. I was enraptured almost as much as she.

I stopped. She buckled and trembled, shivered, moaned and panted, trying to maintain her balance by gripping the chairs back and continuing to rock her body unsteadily back and forth as if loosing herself being taken from behind when I took the bottle of champagne and emptied it in a single long gulp. I needed that.

‘Now, on the ground, on your hands and knees ana.’ ‘Show me now that you can be a good slavegirl!’ I was shouting at her, panting too.

She crawled to the ground with unwilling, rubber limbs, still panting, still unable to recover from where I had pushed her, pre-orgasmic convulsions and spasms retaining their grip on her arms and legs. Unsteadily she sat before me on her hands and knees as I leashed her collar.

‘Come now girl, come, show my how well you can be led, how well you will follow.’ I carefully jerked the leash, taking care not to hurt her and started slowly, as fast as I thought her hands and knees would be able to respond leading her through the garden. I led her unto the grass to spare her knees, which were already marked painfully by the motif in the deckchair’s padding and the wood beneath.

She had turned into my little doggy instantly, following my every move, however fast I made it. I made sure she didn’t get the chance to catch her breath and as a result her excitement remained.

I made her sit, walk, sit, walk. Not a sound from her… I jerked her leash  left, right and back again and made her crawl on the table so as that I could have a good look at her wonderful flesh.

After ten minutes or so I ordered her to get up and instructed her to fetch another bottle of champagne, leaving the leash on. She ran for it.

I watched contently and sighed deeply when I saw her tight little dark red bum disappear into the house carried by her fast moving little bare pink feet. I sat down in the deckchair.

She came back running, titties bouncing, kneeling in front of me, the bottle held high, eyes lowered, panting, breasts heaving and trembling.

‘Good girl.’

I took the bottle from her hands, stirred it some and opened it, the contents gushing out in a thick bubbly flow which I aimed to cover her breasts and watched as it covered her belly and thighs.

She gasped in surprise and let out a little, coquette giggling cry. Her nipples reacted immediately to the chill.

‘That’s for you girl.’

‘Go ahead, rub it all in, everywhere.’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

She giggled as she started to rub the champagne further over her belly and thighs.

I drank from the bottle and watched her.

‘Titties too.’

‘Yes Master Cane.’

I could see her smile, biting her lips as she touched her nipples.

‘Further down now girl.’

Slowly, hesitatingly her hands crawled even further down.

‘That’s right, that’s my girl.’

‘Nice and wet, good girl.’

‘Spread your thighs some more so I can see.’

‘Now do it, wash yourself with these expensive tingling bubbles.’

As if waiting for it she started to rub the wine between her legs, her swollen labia peeking and pouting between her slim fingers.

She sighed, moaned with the next stroke…

‘You like that?’

‘Mh.’ ‘Mhh, Yes Master Cane.’

‘Go on then girl, show me how much you like it.’

‘Show me how you play with yourself as you do so often.’

More moaning, rubbing harder, faster now, her breathing becoming more heavy.

I took a subtle, all together reasonable size plug from my shirt pocket, took a sip of wine and wetted the plug in my mouth. This was easy, only two inches wide and four long with a wide base for safety, shiny and transparent.

‘Good girl, good girl.’

‘Go on.’

She was frantically rubbing her clit and fingering her pussy but unable to further heighten her arousal to the point of orgasm.

She was insanely hot to watch and I wanted ever more to have her, fuck her, hard, for days and nights long, watch my member dig and prod into her soft, tight wet holes, see her squirm and ride me, convulsing around my hard squirting dick. Soon I would give in to her temptation, soon, not now, not yet. I wanted her to be hotter still for me.

‘I got something for you.’

‘Something beautiful, it will please us both a lot, help you please me.’

I knelt beside her, felt behind her, under her. I felt her fingers darting through her labia.

I poured more wine over her, her titties, her back. I felt her again but now firmly touching her sphincter, massaging it as she shuddered and buckled in response. Her blush returned instantly. Uncertainty and strain presenting themselves in her moans.

I pressed the wet plug against her rectum and pushed.

It entered quickly, completely because her position was perfect for penetration and she resisted not in the least.

Her arousal peaked, it shot upward together with the plug as it entered her.

‘Gooood girl, I am so proud.’

‘Go ahead, feel this.’ I started tapping the plug in tune with the rhythm of her fingers. Again she responded, her moans now becoming uncontrolled and accumulating into a crescendo that could end only in ... Her cries distinctly marked the final seconds off her path to her first climax. I pushed the plug in deep and as she gave in I again started to rhythmically thrust the plug into her, forcefully with a high frequency. She let out a long, long loud cry of passionate relief as her pussy squirted out a hot pool of her liquids with gushing force between her labia and fingers. Her fingers slowed down, out of her control, I now controlled her orgasm and took as long as I could in maintaining it. She shivered and searched for support by gripping the deckchair while her orgasm took over all her muscles and filled her with more simmering, intense magic bubbles that a case of champagne could, speeding through her  as though her insides were caught in a hurricane.

‘Oooh Master.’

She cried.

This was going fine, just fine. I wasn’t satisfied, but getting there most certainly.

As I released my grip on her arm she sagged forward and stood on all fours, trembling, moaning still, leaking her scented lubrication, her pussy still slowly convulsing, her ass sucking the plug slowly in and releasing it again, over and over again. Her smell was strong but pure and

I rubbed my dick through my pants; hard and tender it was responding, throbbing to the point of releasing all of the contents of my balls, crying out to enter her hard and deep.

I could barely resist groaning how I would enjoy fucking her, owning her, forming her.

She was too good to be true. Beautiful, young, horny and soon inhibited only by my will, impressionable. I could tell she would be unable to resist me all together when the night would be over.

Oh how I would spoil this lustful little pretty minx so she could me.

All the love I was capable off was I going to bestow on her and have her serve me anyway that pleased me body and mind.

All that she could ask for I would give and all the more would I enjoy her grateful submission to me only.

My pretty little subject.

Still her buttocks were trembling. The moaning now had given to plain panting. She had started to become aware again of her surroundings.

‘That’s my girl ana.’

‘Just stay there while I admire your beautiful body.’

I poured myself another glass and enjoyed the cold bubbles expelling my thirst, lubricating my very dry throat while I sat on the side of the deckchair. Time for my last move before the final…

‘Did you like that ana?’

A groan escaped her. ‘Yes Master Cane.’, she said with a tone of understatement.

‘Seems that you like following my orders a lot ana.’

‘Put on your shoes for being such a good girl and present yourself before me ana.’

Still unsteadily she came up and took her position in front of me. A sigh, another one and her physical pose was perfect. The plug following her every move and responding accordingly, all the way.

She had started to regain her breath but her nipples seemed to have hardened for all eternity now and her labia were beautifully swollen a touch darker pink then they were before, her shiny pink clitoris peeking its pretty head from its nest now deeper in between them... She seemed just a touch uncomfortable, her breathing sometimes halted, the arch in her back released for just a moment. She was most certainly making an effort to hold back, something.

I decided it was time to make my move now. All the champagne clearly must have prepared her by now…

‘Anything you need ana?’

‘Yés… Master Cane.’ ‘Master.. Cane… I.. I need… to pee… Master Cane… very much Master… Cane.’ Again her body flexed at exactly the time she spoke out the very word.

‘Oh my.’ ‘How unthoughtful of me, ana girl.’

‘Off course you must, after all this excitement and effort, the wine.’

‘Go ahead and stand on the table then ana dear.’

I saw the thoughts stiffening her body, for only a second.

‘Mast…?’

‘You heard me girl, what are you waiting for!?’

Uncertainty again determining her composure she turned towards the table and stepped onto it using a chair, taking care to limit the length of her steps.

‘Present yourself, feet apart.’ Oh how her discomfort showed. Her bodily urge must have been strong already by then, her response to my dominance was wonderfully fragile. My dick grew ever more impatient. Luckily I was wearing sturdy jeans or I would have stained myself.

I placed the champagne bucket between her feet…

‘Go ahead ana girl, you know how to do this, just squat and go ahead.’

Shivering now she stood there, frozen… Unable to speak. I knew from our writing-days that her fascination for acts such as this, her fetish was strong and all consuming, rivalled only by her apprehension to give into them; that she would never be able to resist any order I gave her after doing this before me, would surrender, submit and become my subject for all time.

‘Look at me girl!’

Her desperate gaze slowly turned to my cold eyes.’

‘Squat and do your business.’

She sighed, whimpered, flashed her eyes at the heavens before returning them to me. Her body slowly trembled as if she were already crying, slowly, in total despair.

‘I warn you girl, that I will whip you until midnight before I dispose of your sorry ass if you do not do this for me.’ ‘What need have I for such an ungrateful, unwilling, spoiled harlot?’ ‘What slave do you think you are, questioning me?’ I made sure she saw the riding crop I held. Her body was beautiful, the firm tanned flesh of her hard young thighs and calves emphasized by the petite heels she war wearing. I made an effort not to observe too much of her for sake of my tortured erection.

Again she looked at the sky. She squatted with a moan and returned her gaze to mine. Determined but as of yet unable to comply. I used the crop to force her in a higher squat that would be harder to hold and at the same time would make relaxing all the more difficult.

Soon her thighs began to tremble and spasm from strain. I enjoyed every second of the fight between her mind and mine, her mind and body. She whimpered, straining to hold her position and calling back the reflex that made it impossible for her to release in my presence just yet. Oh what beauty I saw in her eyes: anger, more than one plea for mercy and help, determination, and finally submission shone brightly from them as they filled with water and she let out a deep moan, mouth open as she relieved herself of her discomfort. Gently at first but soon forcefully foaming she emptied her bladder in the bucket before me, thighs spasming, nipples hard, moaning  uninhibited and wanting.

‘Gooood girl ana.’ ‘Very good girl.’

‘Now, dry yourself, that’s right lick your fingers, I know you’ve wanted to for a long long time, then take your place on the deckchair and present me your asshole for a loooong, long deep and hard fuck, virgin girl.’

‘We’ve earned that much.’

You scream, lift your hands to your face, then cross them over your breasts, you turn, step back and turn again, unable to choose where to run.

I walk in circles around you, too fast for mere man or woman to see, touching you, first just a bit of hair pulling, prodding once, pushing twice, pinching...

you go frantic, cry out, cry, no words, just cries. I decide it is enough.

I grab your breast, squeezing hard, one, the other. I feel your crotch.., warm; one place the heat has not abandoned.

Your ass too I want to feel, possess. I want all of you and will take it. You suspect this now, you know evasion and resistance will be futile.

Oh how I love the fear that so brings the proper heat to a woman's blood. It will be so much better the better you struggle, the more fear I put into you the more I will gain from your use.

You are easily tripped and fall to the ground. I turn you around, groping, squeezing. more screams, how beautiful a voice for screaming you have until is smother it with a firm grip on your throat.
I will remember you, you're so very pleasing to have, I will return.
I am in between your legs and my hips thrust forward as all the rain and time stops.

I enter you deeply, you were never before so full, nor will you be after if not filled by me. A sharp, unimaginable pain only to introduce before unimaginable pleasure, immediately missed ever after, if not for my return to take you again.

back and forth, back and forth, hard and deep, slow then fast. All too soon your cries and whining stops.

You women are all the same. Your crying has gone, not that is was of my interest any longer. I feel you convulse. I feel your hot nectar dripping down my balls as I massage your cunt as it never was before, the friction is enormous and because it is so good you will never dry up. It will not be long before you'll start to ride yourself against me uninhibited, willingly, and hot. Already you moan with delight.

I turn you around, tighter I want you. You press back your hips and spread your buttocks so as that I can enter you from behind without the use of my hands... Now we are fucking. I straddle your body whole, you grip my wrists as I ride you. I thrust deep into you, the pain of stretching you to the limit surpassed only by the sensations my hot thick pumping rod releases so deep within you. You rub your clit while I twist and pull your nipples. No need for me to thrust any longer, you are doing it all by yourself now, just the way I like it.

I feel now and again a small spasm shoots through you violently... More and more of these come, finally taking over control over your body completely. No matter. I grab your hips and thrust and thrust again as you start coming, coming again and again. More I fuck you, in all your holes, exploiting powers I have you could not even dream of, to please you and help you please me. More you come, and more, thanking me, pledging me ownership of your being spontaneously, until slowly you run out of steam and fall unconscious copiously leaking your juices and mine. Mere mortal.

Unsteadily still you hurry to the table more clumsily than gracious as I try so hard to teach you, the plug rearing its pretty head deep inside your comfort zone, forcing an uncomfortable moan from you with each tiny step. You bend forward, place your elbows on the table, titties prettily and firm hanging free.

?

?Spread those legs bitch.?

?I expect you to show me your gratitude for my patience and teachings, by thanking me for every single stroke in proper form.? ?Understood??

?Yes Sir, this slave understands?, your voice trembling as I like it.

You whole body shivers as I rub the cane and practice my swing a few times, close enough for you to hear and feel it cutting through the air.

?Give me that ass.?

You arch your back, hesitant but full and clench the table, knuckles whitening.

?Look at me.?

Slowly and uncertain as the little girl you once were you flash those baby-blues at me.

I trace the arch of your back with the cane, my gaze fixed to yours. I rub your cheeks with the cane, contemplating my first move. A few practice swings before I hit you full force, the swing originating from my elbow, where your thighs meet your buttocks and where you?ll not be able to sit tomorrow. You can not suppress a small yelp, teeth clenched as the cane calls out a long read welt to adorn your succulent flesh, perfectly symmetrical, perpendicular to your spine, just below your cheeks. Your eyes watering immediately in response.

You exhale in a reflex, swallow two, three times and moan long before you are able to mumble:

?This.. worthless promiscuous minx is of no use to you but.. forever? grateful for your precious teachings my Master?, while the full burn of my stroke slowly takes hold in you buttocks, to stay.

?I guess that?s a start.?

Next I shift my attention, subsequently to each individual cheek, marking them with short fiery red welts from the tip of the cane, whilst you slowly get a hold of yourself as you feel power shifting totally, unconditionally to me and finally surrender completely to me through surrender to your own nature. After ten strokes you?re in your place, where I want you. All doubt is gone you are enjoying this tremendously as the flow of your sexe so delicately shows. Your voice becomes more powerful and you make an effort to be even more poetic than I instructed you, thanking me twice, three times for some strokes. Twenty more crossings, adorning you with a nice striped pattern before I start to carefully cane your pussy and the plug. Tears are streaming now, down to your nipples, as you swallow more than once after every stroke before being able to state your gratitude. You no longer hold back your cries, but holler freely, uninhibited, just as I like it. I finish you off by shifting my attention to your thighs, expanding your striped markings all the way to just above your knees.

After the last stroke you are striped, bright and thick red, panting, crying and salivating as you utter your last words of appreciation.

?Good.? ?Time for some further education.?

?Stand still.?

I grab your hair and pull your head back to make you accept the ball gag. You show no resistance whatsoever.

?Head down now girl.? ?Hold on, this might hurt??

I press upon the plug, firmly pushing it deep into you with one hand, while I spread you with the other. I grab the plug, twist it and withdraw it a little, fuck you with it in fast shallow thrusts. After some twenty seconds I pull and watch with delight as your clenching sphincter is forced to give to the pressure and I slowly, slowly retrieve the plug from your sucking rectum, taking care to take my time in pulling it beyond the widest point, leaving it in there, at the edge for a full minute as you groan uncomfortably.

?What a wonderful sight.? ?Mmmmh.? ?What a wonderful, beautiful body you have for so cheap a whore.? With a sucking sound I pull back completely. A small ?plop? and a gush of air sound from your dilated, gaping butthole, rhythmically contracting as a mouth gasping for air. I place the plug on the table, rich with your juices and scent and immediately enter another one into your still convulsing, gaping hole. I see you are covertly eyeing the plug on the table with your nostrils flared in your perverse, uninhibited, high arousal. Now for the metal plug. Eight inches long, four inches wide, heavy as it is made of metal, soon it stretches your ass to the limit, but not enough. I spit upon it, rub it between your pussylips and press again, now forcing it upon, into you. You yelp again as you feel I am splitting you in two, impaling you to the point of rupture. You buckle but your ass gives and in a second I ram it home, all eight inches deep within you. You knees give as you sigh, cry and sag to the table trembling uncontrollably all over your body?

?No pain, no gain little girl.? ?You think this gets you points, wait till you?ll beg me for receiving my fist.?

You step from under the shower dripping, humming contently. Although it is difficult for you to reach orgasm all alone, this does not stop you from masturbating often, even though you know this goes against the instructions we agreed upon. Your body damp, clean and still tingling exquisitely you reach for a towel and rub yourself dry giving much attention to your o so sensitive nipples and endlessly rubbing between your legs and buttocks, never succeeding fully in drying yourself there. With a frivolous sigh you commence to brush your hair.

The shower prevented you from hearing me entering the house which, in turn, provided me with the opportunity to saviour the sounds of your manic pleasure-play. I could have blown my whistle to summon you, but preferred to prepare for a different ‘surprise’ all together, savouring your ignorant bliss for now. I poured myself a glass of chilled white wine and waited.

You scrutinize your hairlines with the handheld mirror; all soft and bald and perfect, all for me. You spray your pink parts, as instructed, with your favourite perfume and carefully rub it in using your middle finger to deliver it deeply in both holes which is easy as you are already (again) soaking. You clench all the muscles in your lower abdomen as you feel the heat rise deep into your sphincter as you withdraw. A heat surge blooms within your vagina and rectum, your urethra, awakens your clitoris, makes your labia swell, bloom and blush and draws all of your conscience towards the sensations deep within them.

You sigh ten, twenty times to regain some control as you start to flow even more copiously and use the towel to dam the flow over your creamy thighs.

Your cunt has opened itself as a soft shiny dark pink flower, begging frantically to be incubated, oozing its inviting clear warm nectar. You set your feet apart to allow for some cool dry air and to minimize friction that could arouse you even further. You think of what the night might bring, smile.

Next you massage the warm oil into your skin. Carefully placed on the heater before entering the shower it is now warm, almost hot as it enters your skin and leaves you shiny, smooth and scented, beautiful, just the way I like you. You massage your breasts, rub your nipples firmly and resist their siren call to indulge. Careful attention you pay to your labia, feeling your own warm slippery discharge mix with the oil. You spread your lips to expose your clit and peehole and gently massage them until you shudder suddenly as contractions start sending delightful, seductive sensations begging for enhancing confirmation through your whole body. Your nipples react and blush, erecting themselves, a warm pulse of your nectar again oozes out of you. Mixed with your own fluids you enter your slippery, oily middle finger into your ass, wriggle it for the regulatory three seconds and exhale moaning as you gaze into your own eyes in the mirror and feel your heart begin to pound frantically. You bite your lip as you are drawn in a mix of overpowering arousal and regret and close your eyes to enjoy the little ‘afterglow’. You know, with substantial effort, to mentally detach yourself from the physical impact resulting from this action, prescribed by my instructions, before the sensations summoned by it lure you into a vicious circle of sheer continuous, gluttonous and overwhelming masturbation. You sigh and look at the clock; five minutes still, you think. Your heartbeat steps up again. You step into the heels I ordered for you; four inches high, a single strap over your foot, just above the toes and made completely of transparent material. You straighten your back, sigh, give yourself a stern look in the mirror and set down the stairs, the cooler air emphasizing your nudity, heels pertly clicking with every step…

Tension grips you as you approach the last steps of the stairway a complicated mix of fear and excitement overpowers you, arousal disappears and is replaced by anxious anticipation and unspoken wishes to find the ability to comply, withstand, perform, gain approval and its sweet rewards.

The second you step into the room:

‘Over here, you little minx!’

You startle, caught in a blaze of candlelight and for a second look straight at me, sitting comfortably in the leather chair, positioned so that I have a clear view of the rooms centre. Slowly you become aware of my finger pointing you to step close in front of me for presentation and inspection. Still unable to breath you take a step in my direction looking for balance, suddenly unable to parade on those heels, clumsily and ungainly taking the spot I want you to take. Only then do you remember to lower your gaze as you assume the position, shoulder bent defensively, huddling, small.

‘Well well, let’s have a look shall we?’

‘Present yourself properly for inspection girl! You do still know how to do that do you?’

In a wink you straighten yourself, titties forward, ass back, hands behind your head, eyes lowered.

You feel my warm breath upon your belly as I lean forward and rise. Slowly my eyes explore every detail of your trembling body.

‘Nervous, are you?’

‘I would be too if I were you, knowing what the standard order regarding masturbation are and how you’ve just violated them shamelessly, knowing what the consequences could be.’ My face is close to yours, you feel my breath upon it.

God, you look beautiful, so fuckable, my member is already hard for you. Slowly I feel your armpits and determine they are smooth. I can resist, for now, having a go at those tasty pert titties and slowly sink back into the chair to scrutinize your pubic area; no stubs, good. Ever closer my face comes to your body, I inhale and can clearly recognize your scent through that of the lavender oil…

‘Turn around slut.’

In a split second you do, totally attuned to my commands now.

‘Bend’.

As you lower your body the flowers of your sexe and anus are exposed to me, hairless, smooth and oily.., just the way I want them. I place my hands on your buttocks and spread them further, watching the tiny rose between them pucker in reflex. With my thumb I softly massage her and watch her relax and pucker intermittently. Next I spread your labia and inhale deeply to saviour your smell. Your whole pussy glistens with your crystal clear pubic perfume as my eye traces the drops that slowly crawl to your clit. Gently I trace my fingers in between the inner and outer labia, feel and hear your response; again your body tightens and your breath arrests. Your pussy opens for me, relaxes and offers me a clear look inside your hole. I slowly trace my middle finger upwards, caress the soft spot between your pussy and anus and proceed further up to massage your own juices into your enthusiastically responsive ass; relaxing and pouting as I slide my finger deep inside it. You moan…

‘You little bitch.’ I say as I hook my finger and wriggle it to explore your ass. ‘Fondling, touching what is mine, while I am in the house.’ ‘You sure need to learn a lot more, the hard way.’ ‘I am sure we agree, don’t we?’ ‘Answer me!’

‘Uh, yes Sir, oh’.

‘Good’.

I withdraw my finger.

‘Suck this.’ You turn around and drop to your knees to oblige, suck my finger hard, moaning until I grab your hair and pull you away.

‘Turn around, present me your ass for access, now!’

Within a second you’re bending over again, ass towards me spreading your cheeks wide, distorting the perfect shape of that tight hole into a pouting oval.

I spit upon it, once, twice.

‘Whore’. ‘This is for whores, take it’, I say as you feel the smooth, hard tip of a silicone jacketed, metal butt plug forcing itself upon you. Twisting and pressing, slowly fucking you harder and softer, I drive it up your ass.

‘Make no mistake, you are going to accept this thing and like it too.’ ‘And that’ll be just for starters.’

A full four minutes it takes you to adjust and relax as the five inch long, three inch wide rubber plug is slowly forced upon you. After that, suddenly, your sphincter reacts as the widest part has entered. It contracts forcefully and sucks the remaining inches of length into your ass in a matter of two seconds. Again your breath arrests and I hear you moan with discomfort.

‘That’s my girl.’ I chuckle. ‘I knew you’d like this, you little whore’ I say in a mocking voice as I slap your ass hard. Five minutes I slap your ass until it is red and finally you can not suppress yelping as I place each stroke.

‘Turn around.’

‘Straighten up girl, assume the position!’

Slowly, you straighten and rise and feel your cheeks hugging the plug, drawing it even deeper into you, only then experiencing its full effect.

‘My glass is empty and there’s no more wine in the decanter as well.’

‘Fill it for me girl’, I say as I place the crystal receptacle on the floor in front of you, between your feet.

‘Don’t spill a drop, remember now.’

Whimpering you take a small step forward that results in the plug moving slowly, once in and then out of your stretched ass.

‘Feet apart I want to be able to see clearly.’

You place your feet apart, take a deep unsure breath and squat, thighs trembling as you desperately seek balance. It is hard to relax, impossible and harder every second. Your whole body trembles, tits shaking as you finally let go of a hot amber stream, whizzing its way gurgling into the decanter steaming and splattering it. You let out a long moan, unable to suppress it as the contractions necessary for relieving yourself cause your rectum to massage the plug in an out of you, five, six, seven times. The sound starts doubtful, uncertain, voicing a primary reflex but shifts soon to the explicit, perverse and longing. Your hips buckle uncontrollably as you give in to the excitement and a spasm fires your back to arch and arch again as if it were a long single tail whip. The powerful stream of your amber essence touches the edge of the decanter, spraying your thighs and the floor, my shoes.

‘How very burlesque.’

‘How tasteful, feminine, demure and classy a little whore you are.’

‘Pissing here in front of me, shamelessly, relishing in it explicitly.’ ‘Fouling yourself and me.’ ‘Doesn’t matter, you’ll soon compensate for this too.’ ‘Its still good that we got rid of that while we are only at the beginning of your session.’

‘Get up’, as you straighten up, thighs trembling with effort, the rest of your body locked in the gripping intensity of the moment, the plug again is pulled into your rectum to its deepest by your tight, lovingly clenching sphincter.

‘Turn around!’ ‘Bend over’. ‘Spread.’

With my handkerchief I dry your thighs slowly catching every last golden drop trying to escape.

‘Now, I find it is time for you to bend over that table there, for 50 strokes of the cane.’

‘Just for you to show me how motivated you are to please me.’

The candle in your hand is short, its flame flickers as the draft pushes itself around you howling, fondling your dress, whipping up your hair, pressing the thin lace close to your skin in front then aft, revealing your figure, those hard creamy thighs, your firm breasts adorned in figurative flowers, heaving, trembling with every hesitant step, nipples clearly showing hard, reacting to both the cold of the air as to your growing arousal and anticipation, lustful hunger intermittently. The light plays upon the rings you wear only for him, to express his possession of you and provide him with ease of control over your body.

You talk to yourself feverishly. Try to calm yourself, protecting the flame with your hand, peering into the darkness panting. Slowly the walls recede and open up into a dark cavern. You are now lost completely and feel for the walls, wandering ever further from comfort and the entrance, lost, trembling now, whimpering as you feel your saturated panties surrendering to the copious flow you produce. In seconds your thighs are sticky and wet, the heat of your lust cooling rapidly in the nights air. Your aroma, blended with the smell of the flame enters your nostrils as you cry out when the flame dies. You startle and drop the candle.

Your arms spread wide, feeling in front of you and to your sides you take a step. The sound of your delicate heels echoes through the hall. Another step. Another echo. You freeze, listen. Unsure whether you’re hearing what it is you think or are loosing your mind. You shift, turn. You scream as you think to know for sure you hear a footstep. You call out, no answer.

Desperate you cry for help as you spin around grasping, clawing for a handhold when he seizes your arms from behind; an iron grip fixes you while a cotton bag is placed over your head. With a single swoop you are over his shoulder, his one hand around your thighs, the other easily fixing your wrists together. You wriggle and resist, he laughs.

‘Come now girl, time to provide what you owe me, so much want to give only me.’

His hand strokes your inner thigh and he presses his strong fingers against the crotch off your panties in a circular gesture, separating your hot swollen lips, pressing higher up as you lay there helplessly with your bottom high. You feel your wetness renewing, he does, you know he does.

You enter a large room, a four poster bed in the centre, a fireplace lit, its lights storming through the room filling it with demonic patterns of shade and flame, reflecting in a crystal chandelier in low, dusky tones of red and orange. You see he’s naked only when he throws you on the bed and immediately your eyes sink to behold the state of his lust. Your breath arrests as the size of his potency is revealed for you. You lay silent, motionless as he shreds the front of your dress and splits it, removes your panties with a single pull and grabs you ankles. Immediately he is deep within you, growling with satisfaction and in a coarse voice pledging you that he will take a long time to be satisfied. Pressing your legs wide and high above your head he starts to fuck you hard and deep, only his feet and the grasp of your legs supporting him, his flat belly slapping against your swollen clit, your hard breasts lazily shivering and trembling to his rhythm, you grab hold of the satin sheets and try to gain some support for meeting his frantic thrusts. Fifteen minutes, twenty pass as you come and come again, gushing your clear musky fluid to the point of foaming, pleading helplessly for him to use you more, ever more, never to leave him. He calls you names. You don’t mind, you don’t mind whatever he does. You’re his, to please him, whatever it takes, you know you’ll do it. Your body eventually going limp and paralyzed in contrast to the eternal rigidity he penetrates you with. Suddenly he draws back, grabs your hair and gropes under your slippery ass to flip you over to the side. WIth a single movement he removes the wet cloth of your shredded dress. Pulling your hair and groping under you, grabbing your breast, pulling hard on your nipple and commanding you to present your ass to him. You struggle to maintain the right position, desperate to receive him again as you do even deeper than before. He uses your hair and nipples to enforce his rhythm upon you and you love it. You come, he mocks you, again calling you names and commenting on your performance and tightness. Ten minutes pass, fifteen. You moan, whimper, raw and abused, in rhythm to his trusts. Again he retreats. He lets go of your hair and with both hands slaps your ass cheeks, takes your buttocks into his hands and spreads them wide, spits in between them and presses his pulsating purple dickhead to your ass. In one firm, slow unrelenting trust he enters your ass until his belly rests against you pelvis. Again he groans, laughs as you whimper and moan upon being fully impaled on his sex. Slowly he starts to move back and forth in and out. Half an hour long he fucks you in the ass, deep, slow, deep fast, deep slow, deep fast, slapping your ass until it is bright red.

Again you come.

In the end he retreats and shoots his copious hot bitter load over your body, your ass and back, your thighs, ass and pussy lips, calling you names you deserve, Smearing the remaining drops in your face and forcing you to suck him clean, leaving you, unconscious, drunk, alone, imprisoned, in his power.