Arms Up

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A story of erotic torture.
2.2k words
4.36
30.7k
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I kneel at Your feet, content to be close and feeling safe and warm in my place. But I feel a tension in You that transfers to me. There is a need in You tonight, my Master. I feel it. A need for me that quivers through Your body, a tightness in Your body I can feel. I wait, wondering what You will ask of me tonight. We are in our special room, our dungeon as it were. A room completely cut off from the rest of the world. No phone, no tv, a stereo for music only. The lighting can be controlled at a touch; either glaring bright, for the times You want to see everything, or soft and dim for a more romantic subdued feeling.

The lights are dim now, our dinner over, the evening ahead of us. I feel the sweet anticipation rippling through my body. Our nights together are always new, always different. As we learn more about each other, our limits, our needs, our desires, our play grows and matures. You have found the strength within Yourself to give me what I need, what I crave. And my submission, my slavery to You, shows new depth each time. My endurance for the sweet pain seems boundless. My willingness to serve You, to show You my devotion, an ever growing fever in me, a sweet hot fire that burns in my soul.

And You accept my offerings, my body, my heart, my spirit, my very soul in that room we share. As I accept Yours; Your dominance, Your commands, Your desires, Your cruelty and exquisite torture. It frightens You at times, this cruel streak within You. I see You struggling with it sometimes, knowing I want more, always more, yet reluctant to unleash that beast that lurks within You. I see You tremble with it, sometimes giving in to it briefly, other times closing it off, not allowing it to come out.

I see You struggling with it now, Master. I feel it, emanating from You like a beacon, calling to me. And my body prepares itself for Your fierce possession once again. It's like a switch goes on inside me, a source of power and strength only powered by Your love and passion, by Your implements of pain and pleasure. My focus narrows, seeing, feeling only You, and my trembling body.

But You want, need my surrender, Master. You must know that it is offered willingly, in trust and love. Our trust complete, full and rich, it wraps around us like a cloak. You look at me, and nod slightly. I rise from my position at Your feet, and move to the table of toys and tools. I ponder each one, carefully selecting the ones I feel You need to use on me tonight.

I pick up the nipple clamps, the steel ones, the chain connecting them, the second chain that runs up to hook onto my leather collar. The collar is new, heavy red leather, rings in the front and back, a shiny buckle in the front. The weight of it around my neck is a strong reminder of my slavery. You placed it on me when we came into the room tonight. Lovingly wrapping it around my neck and buckling it. A physical token of my ownership. I love it.

I kneel before You, offering You the clamps and chains. I lift the soft silks off my body, exposing my bare breasts, the pink nipples already erect and hard, waiting for You. As You take the clamps from me with a smile, I cup my breasts and offer them to You. A wicked smile comes over Your face, and I know You are pleased. I gasp as Your fingers pinch my nipples hard, tugging on them, twisting them. You slide the first clamp on my right nipple, and tighten it. It squeezes down on my tender nipple. I groan. You attach the other clamp on my left nipple, then tug slightly on the chain. It pulls my nipples out, the pain sharp and sudden. Again that cruel smile.

You run the chain up and hook it onto my collar. "You look quite lovely, My slave."

"Thank You, my Master. Decorate my body as You wish, please Sir."

I take deep breaths, feeling the clamps gripping my nipples so tightly. You watch me, then tug on the chain again and then again. My body follows the chain, my back arching as I thrust out my chest to ease the pain. I wish I could explain to You how it feels, when You hurt me like this. When You hurt me deliberately, with care and skill. My body throbs with the completeness of it. And craves more.

Once again I rise, going to the table. I pick up a thick butt plug, and some lubricant. I kneel before You, again offering You the plug and the bottle. You nod, and take them from me. I turn, and put my head on the floor, my hands reaching back to spread my cheeks apart. Such a blatant sexual offering of that part of my body. I quiver as Your fingers rub over it, feeling the heat, the tightness of it. You pour the cool gel on me, and some on the plug. You gently work it inside me, pushing it until it is in completely. My body clenches around it, and I groan with the pleasure. Your hand playfully swats my bare bottom, and I rise again.

Going back to the table, I feel the plug in me, the chains swinging slightly as I walk, the clamps gripping my nipples tightly. I pick up a gag, contemplating it. We don't use them often, but tonight I want every part of my body possible to feel Your implements. I kneel, again offering it, and You lean forward and place it in my mouth. You fasten it behind my head, and my mouth and power of speech is at Your mercy now. We stare at each other, the trust passing back and forth between us. You don't need words to tell You how I feel, what I need, what I crave, when it is enough.

You motion with Your head for me to return to the table. I rise gracefully, proud in my nudity with You, a previously unknown feeling. You call me Your slave queen, and I feel it; proud, regal, strong. I pick up the vibrating egg with the remote control. I tremble as I look at it, remembering how it feels deep inside me, the vibrations coming at Your whim, not mine. Many times I have worn it to dinner with You, the control discretely in Your suit pocket. All evening You are content to drive me slowly crazy with desire. I get so wet inside I have to wear panties to keep it inside me.

Taking my place before You, I offer You the egg and control unit. I lay back on the floor, spreading my legs wide apart, my knees up, offering You my pussy. It makes me feel so wanton, this spreading, Your eyes watching my now wet sex. I watch You lube up the egg carefully, and You lean forward to tickle my pussy lips with Your knowing fingers. "Spread Your lips for me, My slave," You tell me.

My hands obediently drop to my shaven sex, spreading the full soft lips, exposing the inner darker pink lips. You slowly slide the egg in, pushing it up into me with Your fingers until it is snuggled up in me. I maintain my position, waiting. You sit back in Your chair, watching me. I can feel the egg pushing against the plug in my ass. Your turn it on, and I groan loudly, the sensation so wonderful.

You smile, and torment me for a few long moments, the vibrations spreading through my whole lower abdomen. My hands run up and down my silky inner thighs, holding them open for You. You love me to do this, I know. To display myself proudly for You, offering my feminine willing body. Now my mouth, my ass, my pussy are filled with Your tools, my nipples tightly clamped. My focus shifts from one to the other, until I am lost. My eyes flutter shut, and I give in to the sensations.

You turn the egg off, and again I groan in frustration. Sometimes I think You enjoy this the most, don't You Master? Bringing me to the edge, then taking me back down, up, down, so close, the orgasm shimmering inside me, ready to burst like molten fire. You offer Your hand, and I close my legs and reach for You. You pull me to my feet and bring me to the center of the room. Only Your eyes lift to the chains and rings hanging from the ceiling. I know what I am to do.

I lift my arms, gripping the rings tightly. Your will is what keeps my hands there. You enjoy this, knowing I could let go at any time, yet knowing in Your heart I won't, not until You tell me to. It pulls my breasts up, the clamps tightening. I shiver all over. You stand before me, and take a small weight from Your pocket. You hook it to the chain, and it pulls my nipples more. The pain is incredible, and I growl low in my throat. You stand there, admiring Your work, Your art, and smile as You watch me absorb the pain.

You walk all around me, loving me displayed this way. You can approach me from any side, touch any part of my body at will. I keep my eyes straight ahead, waiting. You move to the table, and pick up a red satin blindfold. You wrap it around my eyes and the soft darkness surrounds me. Your hands explore my vulnerable surrendered body, touching my arms, my legs, my stomach, my bottom. I would know Your touch anywhere, I think. Or Your scent.

I feel myself once again slipping under Your spell, Master. I feel the chemicals of arousal and pain in my body, rushing through me as my body waits and prepares. Prepares for the gift of Your dominance, Your control, Your cruelty, Your brutal but loving touch. I hear Your booted footsteps moving away, hesitating, then moving back towards me. "Are you ready, my beloved slave?" You ask quietly. I jump, and nod, unable to speak.

You trail the strands of the flogger along my back and cheeks. You pass the leather strands under my nose, and I smell the rich leather scent. I drop deeper into my submission. The strands are heavy, made of deer skin, soft, supple, deadly. Slowly You begin the flogging. The pressure increasing steadily, the strands whipping across my body, sometimes wrapping around me. My hands are griping the rings tightly, almost lifting myself off the floor at times. The strands hit my back, my buttocks, my upper thighs. Red streaks appear on my pale skin. I take deep breaths, letting the pain rule my body. Absorbing it, welcoming it, craving it. And You give it, endlessly, lovingly, Your strength tested as mine is as You continue. You turn on the egg, and I harshly groan against the gag.

Your hands slide down my body, feeling the heat of my skin from the flogger. I tremble, feeling the orgasm building quickly now with the egg vibrating deep inside me. You turn it off. I groan. "Not yet, my precious, not yet."

You begin again, harder this time, letting the blows build in intensity. My skin is bright red now, on fire it seems. The muscles in my arms are throbbing from gripping the rings so tightly. My nipples are screaming with the pain of the clamps. I feel the plug deep in my ass. As I clench against the blows, I feel it more. Your turn on the egg, and continue the blows. You watch me, watch my body, knowing it only will take a word from You and I will go careening into the heavens.

"Now, my slave, CUM NOW," You shout at me, knowing You have to to reach me, so deep am I in my submission now. The orgasm hits. Your arms go around me, one hand cupping my throbbing mound as I cum, my hips thrusting blindly, an animal sound ripped from me even the gag can't stop. As it slowly fades, You hold me against You, then reach up to remove the gag. I take deep gulping breaths, my whole body shaking. Your hands cup my breasts, and then remove the clamps. I scream as the blood rushes into them. Those hands massage them gently, soothing the ache.

You reach up and pry my fingers loose from the rings, rubbing them, relieving the cramping. As my arms lower, You massage my shoulders, feeling the tight muscles. You lead me to Your chair, and drape me over Your lap. You gently pull the plug from me, making me moan softly. Your fingers probe in me, removing the soaked egg. My body trembles with aftershocks. You cradle me in Your lap, soothing me with gentle hands. I quiver and tremble for long moments, returning from my journey of submission. " I love You, Master," I whisper, clinging to You in my weakness.

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
Don

Your thrusting chest is a sight to behold....mmmm

BarbaraBarbaraover 13 years ago
Surrendering to orgasmic Nirvana, under either Female or Male ownership?

Noting your matrimonial status, have you accepted 'Oral/Anal' pleasures on reasonably equal terms?

Whether true account or not, individual reactions to pain/pleasure inflicted by responsible masters, varies widely! -Men too, enjoy sexual control by their life partners! Former subs regain self-respect, challenging a naked master to accept equal 'public ownership' humiliation chores, if they expected to continue displaying their female partners' sexually explicit reactions to strangers? -If they accept a limited 'CFNM' style relationship, your 'BDSM' lifestyle choices can be improved then flourish accordingly. Whats good for controlling male partners is equally satisfying to their submissive women, in the longer term?

Now an Octgenarian Mistress, I can give oral pleasures as well as receive them!

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