Angels' Story

ALL WORK IS THE SOLE RIGHTS AND PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR AND ALL RIGHTS RESERVED AND NO REPRODUCTION OR USE IS ALLOWED WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR

Darkness recedes from the Light

The darkness of my soul consumes me

But flees at the Light of her beauty

The joy of her Life

The perfection of her submission

I lose myself in her

In the twinkling of her green eyes

In the look of adoration that adorns her angelic face

In the feel of her soft skin

In the sound of her voice pleading and calling my name

In the heave of her breasts

In the glow of her flawless skin coloured by the markings of her pain

Does my Darkness add to her pain?

Or set her free?

Her Light saves me

In her presence

My Darkness recedes

He arrived home after being gone for two weeks. He heard the dogs barking and playing in the backyard. Odd, he thought, she usually doesn't put them out until after dinner. His curiosity piqued, he entered the small home they shared. He was greeted by a most unexpected and pleasant sight. His angel was in "greeting" pose, kneeling before the door naked with her head bowed and hands clasped behind her back. He smiled, but ignored her and walked right past without acknowledgment. He hung up his suit jacket and removed his shoes. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of Boca noir.

Taking his glass of wine, he returned to the living room. He surveyed her body and stopped in his tracks, mid-drink. He was accustomed to seeing her tattoos and he had spent countless hours tracing them with his fingers, lips, tongue, and riding crop in the eighteen months they had been together. There was something new traced against her flesh. His flesh. Not just anything. His Mark.

Setting his drink aside, he knelt behind her. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the new tattoo. He caught his breath as his hands met her flesh. She sucked in her own breath and shivered at his touch as the goosebumps rose against her warm skin. He traced the shape, delighting in every line, every curve. He bent down and kissed the new mark. His Mark. She exhaled.

"Why?" his voice breaking the silence. "Speak freely."

"To please you, Master. To be yours forever and be marked as yours."

He rose and walked around to stand in front of her. Raising her head, he bent low and grabbed her hair roughly. He kissed her hard, possessively, claiming her with his lips and tongue. "You ARE Mine," he growled into her mouth. He felt her give herself over to him, the familiar release of control. He stood, released her hair, and slowly and deliberately unbuckled his belt and removed it. Grabbing her hair again he forced her face into his crotch. She felt his swollen cock through his dress pants and immediately began mouthing it. So focused on lavishing attention on her Master, she did not notice that he had raised his hands until she felt the crack of the leather belt against her ass. THWACK!

"One, thank you Master," she said as she pulled off for a moment before returning to her service. Then the blows began to come quickly. She could barely keep up with the count, her ministrations forgotten as she called out each number. She felt the kiss of leather along her back, her ass, her sides, her legs. She felt the familiar sting and reveled in the anguish and the clarity of her pain. She felt the welts rise and knew she was reddened and bruised. She rejoiced in his attention and craved more. At twenty-five, the blows suddenly stopped. Her body ached and trembled for more, but she returned to worshiping his now fully swollen cock through his pants. He stopped her and turned his back to her. He began walking to the back of the house and called, "Come slut." She immediately obeyed and crawled as she followed him to their playroom, her knees scraping against the hardwood floor. She hesitated at the doorway, awaiting his invitation to cross into his presence.

He entered the room and walked over to the closet. He removed a hanger and, removing his pants, he hung them in the closet. He removed the rest of his clothes and folded them neatly, setting them aside. She stole glances of him. He knew of course and smirked, but did not castigate her. Naked as she, his cock jutting out from his body, he walked to one of the toy drawers and removed her collar. Approaching her, he bent down and collared her. Suddenly, his hand caught the side of her face and she reeled from the unexpected blow nearly falling over, "Did you have permission to look at me, Toy?"

"No, Sir." she whimpered.

"Worship me," he commanded. Knowing her place, she immediately set about sucking his cock. She licked his head, tasting his pre-cum. She licked him from root to tip, her tongue stud dragging along his length. She took him into her mouth pulling him deep. She lubed him generously with her saliva. She began to fuck him hard, choking on his cock, but not pushing past her gag reflex. Her hands remained behind her back. He grabbed her roughly by the hair, one hand on each side of her head, and began to roughly fuck her mouth.

'You can do this, my angel," he whispered confidently. "We've been working on this. Be my good slut. Swallow me whole. Close your eyes. Breathe through your nose. Relax. Focus on the pleasure you are giving me." He kept repeating his instructions. His voice was clear, measured, confident, spoken barely above a whisper. It had the effect of nearly hypnotizing her and relaxing her into complete subspace. His cock slowly and deliberately pushed into her mouth. He growled as her stud rubbed against him. She felt him push her head down further. His tip entered her throat; his voice continued his instructions in his measured tone. He broke the seal of her throat and slid his length into her. Her lips were pressed against his thigh, he was totally inside her, and she was not gagging! Her realization almost made her choke, but his voice had never let up and his memorizing tone held her in her mindset. He continued to hold her there and she experimented by running her tongue along him. He suddenly released her and she reeled from the sudden emptiness. But it did not last. Suddenly his lips were on hers and his tongue filled her mouth. "Perfect!" was his praise as he released his grip on her head, but not her soul.

He walked over to the toy cabinet and removed her leash and a thick, black cloth. Attaching the leash to her collar, he dragged her to the center of the room. Her knees scrambled to keep up with the force of his pulling. He sat her upright. "Hands in front of you, head upright," came his forthright, simple command. His voice did not lose its demanding, confident tenor. He moved behind her and wrapped her eyes in the black cloth, binding it around her head five times, blocking her view completely. He cinched it tight, the knot cutting into the back of her head. Drowned in darkness, she heard him walk away. He unknotted the rope attached to the hoop in the ceiling and released the slack. Pulling down the rope from the ceiling, he bound her hands tightly. Walking back to the wall, he removed the other end of the rope from wall and gave a gentle tug. Her hands began to rise and he continued to pull. Her arms were now stretched above her head. He pulled harder and her body jerked upwards until she was on her feet. He stopped then and tied the rope to the wall, securing her, stretched out towards the ceiling.

He left her there for nearly ten minutes as he admired her exquisite beauty. Her anticipation shook her body. She awaited his pleasure, not knowing how or what he would do. The tension built and became tangible. Taking a length of silk rope, he walked and stood before her. He began to wrap her tits tightly. She basked in the feel of the rope sliding over her skin, raising her tits up and binding them close together. She felt the blood rush to her nipples as her tits became more and more restricted. He finished his bindings and suddenly attached a clothespin to each nipple. Her breathing became labored. "Please Master..." she begged, barely audible.

"Whatever could my fucktoy want?" he chided.

"Please may I cum for you, Master?" her body wracked with the effort of controlling her impending orgasm.

He waited silently, relishing her struggle. "No." was his simple command. She started to plead again, but caught herself. A hard slap on her tits jolted and refocused her and took the edge off.

"One, thank you Master."

He stepped behind her and roughly kicked her legs apart. Soon, she felt her ankles being locked into cuffs attached to a spreader bar. Once she was securely strapped in with her hands and chest harness attached to the rope from the ceiling, he walked to the wall, untied the rope, and continued to haul her upwards. She hung suspended in the air: blinded, bound, immobile, and aching to cum.

"No need to count," his ominous statement cut through the air. She heard the slap of leather against the wall and she shivered in anticipation as she realized he wielded the cat-o-nine-tails in his strong hands. She felt him trail it along her body. He caressed the back of her legs and ass with it, tension and longing building in her stomach. She prepared herself for the first blow. But he did not strike her. Instead, he stroked the front of her body. She felt the firm press of the leather tails against her aching, wet pussy. He slowly trailed it up her body, each inch of leather that caressed her clit sent shock waves through her body.

"Please Master, may I cum?" she pleaded insistently. He did not answer her but continued to trail the cat-o-nine-tails up her body. She felt his body tense and readied herself. She heard the blow as he struck the straps against the pommel horse. Her body twitched involuntarily.

Then he began. He gave her no warning or warm-up. The strokes fell hard and fast. He began behind her. The leather bit into her legs, wrapped around and grabbed at her wet pussy. Her body jerked and writhed with each blow. She felt the searing pain and took it into her; her Master's love. The blows to her back caused the ropes to bite sharply into her and chafe and burn against her soft, supple skin. She tried to keep count in her head, but lost count after fifty. Her mind grew hazy and her lip bled from biting it. She cried out often and begged to cum. But he remained in silence. His work consumed his thoughts and while he registered her pleas and begging, he merely monitored it to ensure her safety. He cared nothing for her pleasure. Not yet.

He moved to her front and saw the blood trickling down her chin. He stepped forward and licked the blood from her chin and kissed her, sucking on her lip and drawing her blood into himself; blood of my blood. The taste was metallic on his tongue and made him crazy with lust. He regulated his breathing to regain control and stepped back and began to work the cat-o-nine-tails over her front. He paid particular attention to her bound tits, beginning to purple with the restricted blood flow. Each blow caused the clothespins to jiggle, causing her to cry out and beg for release again as her body quivered to maintain her orgasm until her Master released her. He ignored her cries. Soon, the tails bit into stomach, sides, thighs, pussy, legs. Each blow brought more pain, more pleasure. Each blow was a kiss from her Master and said I love you and the gift you have given me.

Her body began to spin with the blows and he reached out to steady her. The mere touch of his hand coursed through her, filling every crevice of her body and soul. His energy, dominance, and control filled her completely and drove away the emptiness. She was his, now and forever, and never would be anyone else's ever again.

He stopped. His breath was labored from his effort. His body was lathered in sweat. He looked at his angel and saw the markings of his love now covering her body. She glowed under a sheen of perspiration. His cock ached and pulsed and threatened to explode just from viewing her incomparable and peerless beauty. He rested for a few moments. He lowered her until her feet touched the ground. He rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her until she could support her own weight. He let out slack from the rope and her arms hung slightly down. He pulled the pommel horse over and bent her body over it. He walked behind her and grabbed her waist.

Taking one finger, he traced her opening from behind. He laid across her back and whispered in her ear as he thrust his magnificent cock into her heavenly warmth that was her pussy. His pussy. "Cum, my fucktoy. Cum for Master, you little worthless cumslut. Good for nothing whore," he whispered roughly into her ear as he bit down on her shoulder. And cum she did. Her cunt spasmed and crushed his cock as he held it deep inside her. Her body convulsed and bucked. She tried to rise up, but was held down by the weight of his body and her bindings. Once her orgasm subsided, he stood up and began to slam into her harshly. His nails dug into her hips. Their bodies slammed together. The sound of their fucking was loud and violent and intense.

"Master, Master..." came her breathless petition, "I need to cum again. PPPlease, Master..." He plowed into her vigorously.

"Now, cunt!" he granted his permission and she exploded. Stars filled her vision and her mind ran over with colours for mere words would not serve her now. "So close..." he cried. He pulled out of her, his cock slick with the juices of her orgasm. He lined the tip of his throbbing erection up to the entrance of her tightest canal. He pushed himself into her ass, felling the tight ring resist him for a moment until her training kicked in and she relaxed. The slickness of her juices lubed the entrance and aided in his invasion of her forbidden passage. He bottomed out in her and reached up and grabbed her collar. He closed his fingers around the collar and tightened it around her neck, cutting off her breath.

Pulling almost out of her ass, his arm pulled back and jerked her head backwards. Slamming into her again causing her head to fling forward. Her mind swirled as the very breath left her. Darkness began to gather at the edge of her vision. The lack of oxygen intensified her pain and experience. His rough fucking of her ass took on this sadistic, controlled but abandoned passion and pattern. His legendary control was quickly fading. Her body ached to feel him explode inside of her and join this union again. Finally, he cried out, "FUCK! Cum for me now! Fuck! Cum now! NOW!" he exploded in her ass as he collapsed on top of her. His cock spasmed as he spent his seed, bottomed out in her tight, tight ass. Her ass cinched tightly around him threatening to squeeze the very life from him. She called out in a puddle of incomprehensible muttering as her own orgasm tore through her body.

They stayed there for a long time. His deflated cock popped from her ass. He rose and stretched. He unlocked her ankles and untied her wrists. He took off her blindfold and spun her to face him. He smiled at her as he pushed her to her knees and nodded to his cock. She crawled over to the attached bathroom and grabbed and wetted a washcloth. Returning to him, she washed his cock, but not before gathering a stream of cum hanging from his tip with her finger and sucking it into her mouth savoring his taste. She then washed him thoroughly and then bathed his cock with her mouth.

He raised her to her feet and said simply, "Cum" as he not so gently removed the clothespins from her nipples shooting clean, purifying pain through her nipples and down into her clit. She came as he wrapped his arms around her and she collapsed against him. After she recovered, he unbound her tits and gathered her into his arms. He carried her to their bed and began to massage her wrists and ankles. He rubbed lotion all over her body as he calmed the welts and redness that covered her comely body. They talked in hushed, intimate tones as they deconstructed the scene. His words of praise and encouragement buoyed her spirit and deepened the intimacy and trust aroused by their play.

Eventually, they drifted off to sleep, her head on her Master's chest, his strong arms wrapped around her.