tagBDSMFierce

Fierce

byCathyO1955©

I shake as I watch You, trembling inside, feeling the need for You so deep inside me it frightens me. I close my eyes, taking a deep calming breath. I feel Your confusion at times, Master. I feel it inside me. I know You have ideas about what a Master is, what He should be like. I used to have mine too, these images of an ideal Master in my head. Or an ideal slave.

Those ideas are gone now, a puff of smoke that drifted away in the fire of Your love. A Master to me now is You, simply You. A strong man, capable of such deep emotions, emotions that perfectly match mine. A giving spirit, a gentle heart that sees me with such clarity. As I see You. We hide nothing from each other, even the things we are not so proud of in ourselves. Sins are washed away by the generosity of Your love and mine.

You say I teach You to be a better Master. It is You that teaches me to be a better slave. Teaching me to reach deep into my deepest fantasies, my darkest fears and needs rising to the surface, fresh and clean and wonderful. You accept them as a part of me, these dark feelings. They used to scare me, this need for pain that I have, the things I dreamed about. But the simple easy way that You fulfill these fantasies makes them right, and makes them ours.

You are going away for a while. This is our last night together for a few weeks. Sometimes I don't know how I will survive without You here with me. But I shall, because You will be with me, in my heart, always. I read Your emails, and it calms me. Knowing You are thinking of me as I think of You, every day, every hour. And I do as women have always done; I wait for You to return.

But this night is special. It's a night to show our love, to give a physical manifestation of our love to each other.

"Naked, slave." You say to me, in a voice hoarse with so many emotions; anger, lust, power, passion. I know You feel all these things tonight.

I remove my clothing, exposing once again my naked flesh to You. I lift my arms, and put my hands behind my neck. It lifts my breasts out, and I feel the nipples already puckering and hardening, anticipating Your touch. I feel a pride in my nakedness that was not there before, before I had You. Knowing I am not perfect, but that You love my body, knowing the spirit that resides inside it.

You move behind me, Your clothed body brushing against my nakedness. It reinforces our positions, my place, the naked slave, You the fully dressed Master, in control, taking from me what You need, what You crave, what I want to give. Your hands cup and caress my breasts, and then Your fingers pinch those rosy pink nipples. I groan loudly, unable to suppress the pleasure.

"Anything wrong, slave?"

"No, Master."

"You are mine, slave, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master, I am Yours."

You pinch harder, and I groan again. "Then take My pain, quietly and gratefully, slave."

"Yes, Master, thank You."

You pinch me again, harder this time. Again, I moan, a soft sensual sound that Your body absorbs. "Thank You, Master."

You release me, and sit down in Your chair. I kneel before You, taking my position as Your slave at Your feet. I feel this overwhelming need to touch those feet, to show my devotion, my submission, my love for You. Reaching for Your foot, I lower my head and lift Your foot, never losing eye contact with You, and I make love to Your feet with my lips and tongue. Softly licking, my tongue swirls around each toe, sucking them lightly, running the tip between each toe, then down the arch, up to Your ankle. Every lick shows my devotion, You feel it almost flowing from me to You through that warm soft tongue. It's a humble, loving, slavish gesture, this foot worship of mine. Something I would never dream of doing to or for someone else. But for You, it's so very special.

I feel the words in my head, and I know You hear them somehow, my thoughts as I lick Your feet. I love You, Master. Trust me with Your heart, with Your very soul. Know that I adore You, that I need Your love, that You are a part of me. Feel the strength of my love, the strength of my willing body, flowing from me to You and back again. We draw from each other somehow, strong when the other is weak, then it reverses somehow, the giver becoming the taker. Let me love You, my mind screams. You hear it, and You push Your foot into my wet mouth harder.

I groan softly, and lick harder, my soft tongue rasping over Your skin. The desire for You is growing inside me, like a living, breathing entity, clawing it's way out, demanding attention. Everything I am, everything I feel is in that wet tongue, and You respond.

"Stand up, slave."

You body is shaking with the power of Your emotions, the lust for me like a fire inside You. You quickly put the wrist and ankle cuffs on me, my submission to You deepening as they wrap around me.

You grip my hair, pulling me to You. Almost angrily You shout at me, "Ask for it."

I know You, my Master. I know what You want. I know what You need from me. I lean up and kiss Your soft mouth, pressing my lips against Yours, my love flowing out of me into You. It shows You that I chose You, that I choose each time to submit to You, that I am not a mindless empty woman, who obeys whoever tells her to do something. You have earned my love, my submission, my slavery, Master.

"Whip me, Master. Do with me as You wish. Make me feel I am Your slave."

You lead me to the center of the room, our dungeon, our playroom, a place where dreams come true. You hook my wrist cuffs to the hook in the ceiling, my ankles to the bolts in the floor. My legs are wide apart, my hands above me, and I am helpless. I let that feeling wash over me, knowing that I am utterly safe here with You this way. Every fantasy I have ever had, of being kidnapped, of being abducted, used as a slave, taken against my will, forced to endure the painful pleasures brought to my body, races through my mind as I am bound by You. My whole body shudders as the fantasies flash in front of me. The fantasies that I used to be ashamed of, that I hid from the world, the fantasies I laid at Your feet, knowing You would fulfill each and every one of them.

I close my eyes against the feelings, the intensity of them so strong I would fall to the floor if not bound. I feel Your hands, feel the clamps bite into those tender nipples, and I scream. It's so perfect, so much of what I have dreamed of, I can hardly stand it. The clamps bite into my pussy lips, and I feel You attach weights to each of them.

I feel the weights, tugging at me, pulling my flesh. The pain is an exquisite sensation, releasing the animal chemicals into my blood. The adrenalin fueling my lust, the endorphins crashing through me, taking me higher and higher. You are like a drug, my Master. A wonderful, wicked drug that takes my body to new heights each time we are together.

Your hand slides between my legs, and You rub my dripping wet cunt. There's that word again, Master. I feel my pussy becoming a raging, living beast, a fierce, hungry beast that demands to be fed, to be filled by Your fingers, Your fist, Your cock, Your toys. I feel it clenching, clutching at those thick fingers as You explore me.

"Aroused already, slave?"

"Yes, Master, I am an aroused slut," I moan.

You pinch my throbbing clit hard, cruelly, and I scream, tears filling my eyes.

"Wrong answer, slave, and you know why."

"Your slave queen is aroused, my Master."

I smile up at You bravely, knowing the pain to come. You kiss me lightly on the lips, and my body braces itself for Your torture.

You choose a single tail whip. I quiver as I see it in Your hands, then close my eyes as You move behind me. You begin to whip my upper back. I know You like whipping me there, my back broad and strong, the skin showing the stripes You love to see. I count them out loud, focusing the pain, capturing it, letting it wash over me. As my body jerks at each blow, each strike of the whip, each demonstration of Your love, the weights swing, making my lips and nipples scream in agony.

At twenty You stop.

"Do you know why I whip you?"

"Because You like it, Master. I'm Your slave."

"And what have you done to earn this pain, my slave?"

I think for a moment. So many thoughts, racing in my head. "Because You like to see me suffer for You, to endure the pain for You. Thank You, Master, for that." I feel such a circle of completion in those words. I love the pain, You love giving it to me, we complete the other in our actions.

You move in front of me, and I feel the whip lash across my tender stomach. I scream, and the sound chills You. I know You Master, I know what You are thinking, as You hear me scream for You. That it's too much, that You have gone to far, that You are some wicked beast to hurt me this way. How can I ever tell You that I love this pain of Yours Master, so very much. How can I explain when I don't understand it myself, this love of pain my mind and body have?

"Yes, Master," I scream, telling You the only way my ravaged body can. That one word, Yes, says so much. In that word is my acceptance of Your pain, the permission You need to know it's alright.

It pushes You beyond Your iron control. You strip, and I feel You behind me, gripping me tight. My pussy is so wet and hot, Your rigid cock slips into me easily, almost lifting me off my feet as You drive Yourself into me to the hilt. My pussy clutches at You, wrapping around You like a wet, velvet fist. Your hands come around me, Your clever fingers massage my clit as You drive into me again and again. The weights are still on me, the vicious clamps, and I scream as I start to cum around You. The convulsions of my orgasming pussy are too much, and You join me in this ride to ecstasy. I feel You, pumping Your gift of cum into me, filling me in so many ways. I feel your body a part of mine.

You release me slowly, rubbing sore muscles and tender nipples. We lay on the bed together, Your strong arms around me. Your hands visit each place of pain, tenderly stroking the red marks. I writhe under Your touch, the pain and pleasure blending perfectly.

I feel Your desire for me, still throbbing inside You, reaching out to me. You told me before You never felt about sex the way You do with me. That somehow I give You a rampant sexual energy, a need for my body that is almost insatiable. More, You moan.

I kneel, putting my head down on the bed, offering You my rounded soft bottom, my knees spread wide apart. You kneel next to me, spanking my pale skin, making it a warm pink color, and a heat roars through me. I feel my exposed body in this position, the vulnerability of it. My soaked sex pink and throbbing, my tight rear entrance puckered and also wet. Suddenly, You kneel behind me, and plunge Your face into my cheeks, spreading them with Your hands. I feel Your wet tongue like velvet across me. You dive into me, licking and probing that tight hole with Your loving tongue. You have never done this before, and I am honored by it more than I can ever say. Another acceptance of every part of me.

The pleasure is all encompassing and incredible. Your fingers slide into my wetness as Your tongue dances over me, driving me over the edge yet again. My back bows as the powerful orgasm roars through me. I know this orgasm is a gift from you, a way of showing me how much You love me. I let it wash over me, through me, the jerks of my hips in aftershocks showing You how strong it was.

And yet it's not enough, for either of us.

You keep me on my knees, my bottom exposed and up. But I want more. I quickly get up and grab the cane on the table, and hand it to You, a silent offering. I resume my position on the bed. It's still not enough. You gag me and blindfold me. I feel myself lost in Your possession of me, in Your taking of my willing yielding body.

You stand near me, preparing Yourself for this awesome responsibility. The power to hurt me, the strength to know when to stop, the desire to give me what we both crave.

You arm goes back, and the cane lands its first deadly strike. I scream, and the power of it forces my body down flat on the bed. You hesitate, but hear me telling You, "Yes, Master," screaming it through the gag.

Ten times the cane strikes, ten times I scream as it marks my body. I feel the pain, yet I don't feel it. I am lost in the power of my slavery, in my submission to You.

You stop after the ten strokes, and remove the gag and blindfold. Tears flow from my eyes, and I kiss You, saying, "Thank You, Master. I'm Your slave, whip me, cane me, hurt me, keep me with You forever."

Tears blinding Your own eyes, You again cuff me, binding my wrists to my ankles, my breasts thrust out as I kneel before You. I tremble as I wait.

Five times the cane strikes, me, five times the pain almost unbearable. I struggle in my bonds, taking Your torture, reveling in it. Your hands grip my breasts, massaging them gently. The pain is so sweet I weep.

Again, You strike me. I count, in a hoarse voice, the lust pounding through me. At six my body responds, and without You ever touching my clit, I cum again, so hard I shake with it. Three times You cane my nipples as I explode, screaming Your name. It goes on and on, and only Your touch on my hair brings me back to earth. My eyes are dazed and cloudy, and I struggle to focus on Your beloved face.

"Tell me again." You whisper.

Slowly, my mind searches for the words, my spirit so far above me in passion and love.

"I am Your slave, forever."

Your eyes locked on mine, You penetrate my mouth with Your iron cock, spilling your seed. It's enough, and we collapse in each others arms.

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byCathyO1955© 2 comments/ 26468 views/ 4 favorites

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