An Exercise in Dominance

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I take, tease and torment you, making you mine.
5.6k words
4.44
136.2k
93

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/27/2022
Created 11/06/2011
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I step quietly into the room, my gaze immediately seeking you out. You have your back to me as you stand at the sink in the kitchen, the running water having masked the sound of my entry. I lick my lips as I allow my eyes to drink you in: your delicious body clad in jeans and a t-shirt. Soft white socks protrude from the cuffs of your pants and your brown hair is pulled up in a messy, spur-of-the-moment bun. Empyrean. That is the only word I can think of to describe you.

I slowly remove my boots, pressing my keys against my hip as I remove them so as not to make any noise. My leather jacket is zipped up, the ride home having been cold, and the zippers make almost no noise as I creep forward. My socked feet make no sound on the floor as I slink toward you, my eyes burning over you with the animal hunger I keep hidden behind my semi-calm veneer.

With smooth, confident movements I sweep one arm around your waist, pulling you back against my body and eliciting startled gasp as the other hand covers your mouth, cutting it off. You struggle for a moment as my teeth graze your ear, but my voice sets you at ease. Mostly. "Relax, my Kitten," I purr, my tongue snaking out to trace the maze of cartilage in your right ear, meandering aimlessly from one ridge to the other. The hand around my waist reaches out to cut off the water in the sink.

I steer you across the carpet towards the bedroom, my hand still covering your mouth as my lips suckle your earlobe; a teaser for what could befall your tasty clit later tonight. I feel your body shiver in my arms. "No talking, pet," I whisper as we reach the bed, "not yet, anyway. You'll be able to do plenty of talking when you're screaming my name.

The hand covering your mouth moves down, gripping your neck as my other hand fumbles with the latch on the trunk we keep at the foot of the bed. I throw back the lid, reaching inside and drawing out a pair of handcuffs, using them to secure your wrists behind your back. I turn you around, my lips ravaging yours in a searing, hungry kiss as I pin your restrained from to the wall opposite the bed. I suckle your lips ravenously, eliciting moans from you as your mouth opens, before I plunge my tongue into you, running it over your own tongue as I taste you.

I pull away, my hand reaching up to fist in your hair. "You're mine," I growl softly, my lips inches from your throat as I pull your hair back, exposing the sensitive skin along your neck. I can see the every motion of your skin as you breathe. As you swallow. My lips press against the center of your throat, my teeth biting softly as I suckle your skin into my mouth. You moan again and I feel your knees tremble. Even through your jeans, I can smell the unmistakable scent of your arousal. It fuels me, my animal lust rising higher and higher as I suckle and bite your neck, leaving countless rings of imprints from my teeth and dark, mottled bruises. Marking you as mine.

With a deep, reverberating growl I push you away for a moment. My arm snakes out, snatching the antique Tibetan dagger from the top of one of my lower bookcases. It slides free of its sheath with a hiss of metal on metal, the curved blade glittering in the lamplight of the bedroom. I see your eyes widen as the point of the blade draws nearer, your reflection broken by the spots of rust which have taken up residence on the ancient weapon.

I pull you close to my body again, the blade rising and pressing against your neck as I hold you close. You can feel not only my heartbeat, beating strong and loud against your back, but my diamond-hard length rubbing against your rear. Slowly, I turn the blade and slide it downwards, teasing the neckline of your t-shirt. You shiver against me, your hands flexing in the cuffs. My teeth sink into the gentle curve where your neck meets your shoulder, and I hear a low, throaty moan escape you. So sexy.

My other hand turns you around, the point of the knife slicing downwards and cutting the shirt cleanly from neck to hem. It falls away, still covering your breasts but leaving your delicious cleavage exposed. Cleavage I could bury my face in and never tire of, licking and kissing and sucking until you...

I shake my head imperceptibly, clearing my thoughts. There will be time for that later. For now, though, I have only one mission. One purpose. I am going to tease you like you have never been teased before. Take you like you have never been taken. Make you mine in every sense of the word and using every trick I have at my disposal. For you, there will be no escape. No release. There will be only pleasure and ache, denial and blistering euphoria. And then, at the end of the night, I will take you again and again until you cannot even vocalize your wishes for me to stop. Until you are driven mad with pleasure. Even then I might not stop. It is only nine, after all. I could take you until the sun rises tomorrow. Twelve hours from now.

I hook the curve of the blade behind the button of your jeans, giving my wrist a quick flip and sending it flying into the wall with a soft click. It bounces under the bed. Lost. I lick my lips as my gaze burns over you, drinking in every mark on your skin, every curve of your body and ever delicious spot I will explore later. My hand reaches up, fisting in your hair as I drag your mouth to mine again, cutting at the shirt and letting it fall to the ground at your feet. Your nipples harden in the cooler air, the breeze coming from the porch window caressing your body with an autumn chill. Goosebumps break out on your delectable skin.

I drag you towards the bed, pushing you down on it as my hands drift to the bucket of bamboo sticks I keep as decoration. I grab two of them, twirling them in my fingers as I kiss you hungrily, pulling you back to your feet as I toss the stalks down on the bed. "Tonight," I growl against your lips. "Tonight you are all mine. Mine to tease and torment. Mine to bring to orgasm... or not. Mine to use for my pleasure if that is my desire. All... Mine..."

I fumble in the chest, withdrawing with a second pair of handcuffs. I lick my lips as I think of a delicious idea, purring as I lead you toward the porch door. Your eyes widen slightly as I turn and push you up against the glass, licking and sucking at your neck. I slowly move down your body, ignoring your breasts for now as I tug at your pants. I growl as they slide down, revealing a pair of pink cotton panties. The antique knife reappears and slices through them at the elastic along your hips. I help you step out of your jeans, tugging off your socks as we go, leaving you completely naked. Exposed.

I pull you forward, my hands clenching against your butt as I hungrily lap at your pussy, my tongue plunging into you and dancing along your inner walls. You gasp, your hands rattling in the cuffs as you instinctively try to move them. I dance my tongue over your clitoris, causing your hips to buck and move, before I lean forward to tickle the sensitive skin between your slit and your anus. I pull back, licking my lips as I rise, my hand once more returning to your hair.

The glass porch door slides open as I quickly kill the lights, masking us from view as I lead you out onto the balcony. The parking lot is still and quiet, lit only by the glow of the two fluorescent streetlamps and the ochre light of the waning moon above us. I unclasp your handcuffs, freeing your wrists as you instinctively try to move back into the safety of the apartment. I growl, tugging you back to me.

My hands grip yours, attaching a cuff to each wrist. I bend you over the railing, stretching your wrists out to opposite sides of the balcony and cuffing them in place, leaving you with your breasts pressed flat against the cold metal of the railing. I knead your rear, spreading it wide and blowing on your puckered rosebud as you bite your lip. I run my hand over your back, purring. "I'm just going inside for a moment," I say. "Try not to make too much noise or the porch light will come on."

Your eyes widen as you look up at the overhead bulb which will completely expose you. You shiver as I step away, returning a moment later. "Oh, and this is to make things interesting..." I slip a vibrator into your slick, juicy folds, turning it on MED. "Don't cum and don't let that fall out. It'll be enough to trigger the light." I give your ass a swat and vanish back into the apartment, leaving you alone on the porch with your arousal. You can hear me bustling around in the bedroom as I set things up, but can't call out to me for fear of setting off the light. You bite your lip to silence the moans that threaten to spill from your lips as the toy works away inside of you, buzzing deliciously.

Someone pulls into the parking lot, parking adjacent to you, and you hold your breath so as not to be noticed. The driver, a woman in her mid-twenties, gets out and walks towards you, talking on her cell phone. She pauses, fumbling in her purse for her keys as you watch her, biting your lip harder and trying to wish her away. She extricates the key ring, taking her sweet time in selecting the key she needs, before unlocking the door and going inside. You let out your breath in a whoosh, relieved.

The toy begins to slide out of you, lubricated by your sopping wet pussy. You let out a quiet moan, clenching around it as you attempt to both hold onto it and your slipping control. It doesn't work. The harder you clench the more it starts slipping. You squirm helplessly as it continues to shift, suspended only by an inch or two within your folds. With a despairing moan, it slides out of your pussy and clatters to the deck. You freeze, holding perfectly still as the porch light above you flickers and comes to life, bathing you in a warm golden glow. Your body is completely visible to anyone who drives in now.

Luckily, I step outside a minute or two later, manually killing the light as I walk forward. "Tsk tsk, naughty Kitty. I told you not to drop this. Now you're going to have to be punished." You feel the felt of the spanking paddle caress your rear. "I am going to give you twenty-five swats," I purr. "If you make any sound at all, I turn on the light for the rest of them. Understood?"

You nod your head wordlessly, shivering. Your pussy is leaking profusely from the toy's stimulation and the anticipation of the paddling. I pick up the toy, holding it out for you to suckle clean, watching as you bathe the device with your lips and tongue. I purr, returning the toy to your pussy. I slide it into you, leaving it on LOW this time as I line up the paddle.

"One...*SWAT*..." I count, bringing the paddle down against you. "Two...*SWAT*... three...*SWAT... four...*SWAT*... five...*SWAT..."

You fight to suppress the rising moans, biting your tongue. The swats echo around you, deafeningly loud to you but you know they are barely audible down in the parking lot. I continue, counting out loud as we crest ten. Then fifteen. I smirk as I hear you gasp at seventeen, though, reaching up and touching the button beneath the light. "Tut tut," I say, smiling. "I hope no one comes home between now and your last eight swats." The light comes on again, revealing you in your spread, nude glory. You close your eyes, moaning in a mixture of arousal, trepidation and humiliation as I resume spanking you. "...eighteen...*SWAT*...nineteen..."

By the time I reach twenty-five, you are writing against the balcony, desperate for relief. I switch off the light, drawing the toy out of you and replacing it with my length. One of my hands curls in your hair as the other covers your mouth, stifling any moaning you were about to do. Your eyes widen as my mouth lowers to your ear. "No cumming, slave," I whisper. "If you cum, you are spending the night tied to the bed, the vibrator dangling between your legs and humming against your pussy lips, while I sleep soundly next to you."

I begin to thrust, my hand still curled in your hair as my thighs slam into your buttocks. You stare helplessly down into the parking lot, praying that nobody is going to find us up here. You bite your lip as I drive into you, my hand curled in your hair. A constant reminder of my presence and my order not to cum. Looking down at you, watching you writhe and gasp, impaled on my length, pushes me over the edge and I fill your pussy with my cream, moaning in pleasure. You sink your teeth into your lip, tasting blood, but manage to prevent yourself from following me.

I kneel down behind you, my tongue delving into your pussy as I scoop out your cream mixed with mine. You writhe and mewl, achingly close to the edge, and I make certain to keep my tongue slow and tantalizing; never enough to make you cum. When you are clean, I stand up and unlock your wrist cuffs, pulling you upright by your hair. "Now then," I purr, "it's time to begin teasing you in earnest."

Your eyes widen as I lead you back into the house by your hair, my firm grip steering you toward the bed. The two bamboo stalks have been bound together in the middle, creating an X on the bed, and there are three rolls of duct tape nearby. You shiver as you see the tape, but I shush you with a series of nibbles along your neck. "No mummification," I assure you.

I push you down on the bed, stretching you out so that your body lies atop the X-Frame I have fashioned for you. Testing the size. I purr when it fits perfectly. I stand you up, bringing the frame with you and propping it against the wall. "Position yourself against it."

Slowly, once your body is in place, I use the tape to wrap your legs from ankle to mid-thigh, holding them firmly against the lower half of the X. The same thing happens from your wrists to your mid-biceps, pinning your body irrevocably against the upper portion. I see you struggle, testing your bonds, and I wait for a moment before wrapping your midsection to the back, going from your waist to just below your breasts.

I lift the whole frame back onto the bed, purring down at you as I straddle your waist. The tip of my length enters your sopping pussy and I can see you trying to thrust, but the tape holds you fast. I purr, smiling evilly down at you as your fingers flex helplessly. "I think I rather like you like this," I whisper, leaning down to kiss you. From beneath the pillows I pull a blindfold, slowly slipping it over your eyes. "And now, let the torment begin..." I whisper as the darkness obscures your vision.

You feel soft, tickling bristles begin to tease and dance around your breasts, avoiding your nipples completely but randomly dancing along the soft skin. I see your chest try to arch into the brushes, but the tape holds you down. You grind your teeth, moaning loudly as I continue to tease you. For the next twenty minutes, I continue the slow, random dance as the phantom brushes vanish and reappear, always on your breasts, never touching your nipples. Your breathing deepens, your skin flushing with arousal as your beautiful pussy starts to leak. I lick my lips, watching you hungrily. My time will come, I know, but for now I am going to just enjoy teasing you.

The unfortunate thing for you, though, is that they tickle. Oh how they tickle. But it's not enough of a tickle to get you to start laughing or giggling. No, it's a far worse kind of tickle. The kind that builds up inside you until you feel like you're going to explode, but no sound comes out; even when the pressure feels like it's going to split your chest apart. I run the little brushes along your breasts, slowly teasing them down along the ridges of your ribs, those gentle ridges which are so terribly sensitive, and along your hipbones. I tease the inside of your thighs, the soft skin just above your mound and swirl them around your navel. You are shaking in your bonds, your pussy drooling helplessly on the sheets, and I show no sign of mercy.

But the one place I never let the brushes go, the one place you wanted me to go long ago, is the glistening mound between your legs. I don't even need to gag you because you are fighting your nonexistent laughter so hard, your body shaking and your teeth clenched tightly. I know that hairbrushes would have made you scream with hysteria if used properly, and I could drive you out of your mind and over the precipice of insanity in under an hour. Instead, I was so thorough—so unhurried and patient—that it was pushing you toward an orgasm which would never come. It was a much slower spiral into gibbering lunacy.

You want to thrash; to flail around and push my hands away. Possibly finish yourself off and give yourself the orgasm you so desperately want. Instead, all you can do is whimper and plead, your words broken and barely audible through the thinly constrained laughter in your lungs. You try to arch your hips, to beg me to use the brushes on your slick nether lips that are tingling so much; demanding attention that will never come. Once or twice, I use the stiff wooden end of the brush to nudge your stiff nipples, teasing the swollen and sensitive buds standing out from your breasts. But it never lasts. Soon, I stop teasing immediately and return to brushing your skin in the teasing, tormenting manner; teasing around those stiff, swollen nubs. They ache so badly...

A brush teases along your waist, tickling so much more than it should, before makes a right angle turn and moves downward. You gasp, almost biting your lip as the brushes bristles stroke slowly over your engorged mound, coming within a hair's breadth of your tingling, slick pussy. You hold your breath instinctively, waves of arousal hammering your body in tidal waves, making your heart pound in your chest. The brush is coming closer now... closer... closer...

A wail of frustration rips from your lips and your exhausted body actually manages a show of struggling as you protest to the teasing. So close! So damned close! You want to scream—to howl like a banshee and shriek with laughter and frustrated arousal until your lungs are empty. You can't pound against the bamboo frame because your arms are restrained so well, and the same goes for your legs. You can't buck your hips, arch your back, or do anything other than just toss your head around frantically. All that frustrated, aroused energy has only one outlet: it feeds into the fire between your legs, making your pussy tingle so much more and drip with the slickness pooling on the sheets.

The object of your desire happens so quickly and is so brief and transitory that by the time your body realizes it, the moment has passed. The smooth handle end of one of the brushes—they feel like toothbrushes—nudges your clit upwards. Once. And then it goes back to tracing an agonizingly slow circle around your engorged, puffy nether lips. You shriek with frustration, your body quaking at the touch to your sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves. What feels like the only one I am bound to give you. You hadn't been ready for it and though the wave of pleasure sweeping through your body was intense, it doesn't conclude anything. In the end, it tingles up your spine and radiates out to your fingers and toes. Finding no release there, it withdraws like a wave on the beach. The dull, tingling feeling of heat in your body seems to become more intense as the pleasure returns to its origin; stoking the raging fire of your desire even higher still while denying your release all the more.

Both toothbrushes stroke either side of your slick opening and, for a few frenetic seconds, the tickling clashes with the heat radiating from your moist core. Your entire body is chaos, feeling like every nerve is under assault and every cell in your body is tingling from fingers to toes. I watch your body jerk as if I've run a current through it, pulling on all the restraints holding you in place as the sensations fade; leaving you with a clitoris throbbing so hard I can almost see it. You are almost sobbing delirious tears; so horny you would give anything for an orgasm... but I just keep tickling; ignoring your whispered, breathless pleas.

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