Binding Arbitration Pt. 03

Gentle reader - The (negotiating) tables have turned. You tell me: Something for everyone... or two *entirely different audiences, LOL? Inquiring minds want to know. Drop a Comment and I'll be grateful. Regards,

~P.M.

Disclaimers: Bondage is tricky; best not to get too ambitious unless both top and bottom know what they're doing. The following contains Non-Consent, D/s, bondage, humiliation, corporal discipline, and race-play. Have fun.

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(Previously on Binding Arbitration:)

Once her hands are free, the first thing Vik does is take the cigarette out of her mouth and pass it back to my lips. The second thing is, she starts unbuckling her collar.

Her eyes a little dreamy and looking off past me, she gives a soft little, uplifted sigh... then says:

"Cash."

BINDING ARBITRATION

PART THREE

"CASH," VIK SIGHS, repeating herself while I am untying her left leg. She is sitting kind of side-saddle on the edge of the desk. Slightly twisted to her right, one leg freed and dangling over the edge. The other getting uncinched and unlooped by me.

I heard her the first time. I need to resettle myself a bit - into the state of negotiation, where we seem to be headed, out of the state of fucking we were in moments before. Vik, apparently, has already made the switch, damn her. I don't reply.

She has the collar in her hand, holding it up to her face and regarding it thoughtfully. Cheap leather, a plain black store-bought dog collar with a simple D-ring. Yet so heady to her, judging from her eyes, perhaps because it *is simple and store-bought and meant for a pet... and therefore, degrading to her to have worn it and felt its control. I think I'll give it to her as a souvenir.

Once I'm done untying her leg, freeing her completely, I let the rope twirl and pool impotently to the carpet. I give her a friendly smack on the thigh with the flat of my hand. She doesn't seem to notice; I'm guessing, compared to the lively cropping she suffered earlier, this latest swat was fairly anticlimactic.

Vik presses her palms to the desktop and fairly springs to her feet. Absently, she turns away from me, shaking out the stiffness in her knees, looking out the windows. At her friend and ally - the clear, brilliant sunrise over the Bay...

I take that opportunity to gawk at her body. It occurs to me, since she stripped, this is the first time I am seeing nude-Vik standing. Upright, curvy and sexy, and - in spite or because of the grooved rope-marks patterning her limbs and chest - her body is a breathtaking sight. She is medium height, maybe 5'6" - but now I am thinking, if she were another five or six inches taller, Viktoria James would be a true Amazonian force of nature, before whom no man - even me? - could stand.

Mentally, I compare the sight of the naked and upright Vik with visions of her nudity before - kneeling, crawling, roped-up and balanced on her ass - and I'm hard-pressed to pick a favorite. The dominant in me would waver between which was most vulnerable or humbled... but the man in me, well, he likes what he sees right here.

"Hey, don't forget the mirror over there," I say with a smile.

"Hm?"

"You might want to check out the rope-marks, you know - not to mention those pretty whip-blossoms I left on your backside, before they fade." I add graciously, "The door to the left is the washroom. It may interest you to know, there's a shower in there."

My generosity has an ulterior motive, though: Before we start in on the trivial details of our settlement, I mean to divert her while I re-assume my position of authority, behind the desk in my Captain Kirk chair. Maybe put on a fresh tie. In command, and clothed. Perversely, I have formed a plan: Once she comes back to the desk, she'll assume she can redress, too - but I'll tell her, 'No, Vik, you negotiate in the nude, until you drop your silly 'straight-cash' demand. So, have a seat, counsel.' I know, I know - the game is over, so she isn't obliged to obey, and no doubt she knows it, too. But just to see, you know, what happens.

Seeing Vik moving in the direction of the mirror, I turn to go around my desk - presuming she is taking me up on my hospitality.

I presume wrong.

*CLIK* I feel the steel bite and ratcheting rasp of the handcuff as it snaps onto my left wrist, and the tug of Vik's strong hand pulling my arm back toward her. I respond defensively, swinging around in that direction, right arm leading. Meaning to wrap her up in a bear hug, before she can put the second cuff in play. But she is a blur, ducking, evading my counterattack - her falling weight twisting me off-balance, sideways -

"Hey -!"

Vik has dropped to the floor, and, executing a sort of capoeira move - sweeps her leg horizontally, slamming her shin across the backs of my knees - same time, her weight drags downward on the cuff, and I collapse forward onto my knees -*OOOF!- and my cuffed left wrist is ratcheted to my right ankle - what the fuck! Next, foot to my back, Vik kicks out her leg and body-slams me chest-down into the carpet -*OOOF!- the wind knocked of me, disoriented.

Next, the weight of her heel leaves my back, and I hear her bare footsteps whisper across the carpet. Not quite understanding the half-hogtie position my body is in, I try to get my two unshackled limbs underneath me - get up off the floor, onto my knees - something. Instead, hobbled and disoriented, I just sort of thrash and flop on the carpet like a landed fish.

Not for long, either. She returns a moment later, jamming a knee into my lower back, muscling me back down into the rug. "Uhgghh -!"

"Hold still, bitch!" she warns.

Turning my head, cheek ground into the carpet, I see her crouching beside me, a bare, muscular leg, knee braced on the carpet - a glimpse of her hand picking up her white silk bow tie. Next, I feel her pinning my elbows together, wrapping and tying them up with her own neckwear - like I did earlier to her. I am grunting, physically frustrated, feeling my freedom slipping away from me.

She can't be doing this - is she serious? "Uhnnhh, Vik, now let's -"

"Shut up!"

Knotting the elbow-tie, she leaves me in a functional, though annoyingly awkward, asymmetric sort of hogtie. Elbows tied together, my arms are effectively bound, even with one un-cuffed hand wiggling free. One leg is loose, too, but I can tell, it has no leverage to do anything... well, useful.

So I don't give her the satisfaction of trying. I settle down. I give it another go, "Um, Viktoria -?"

"Didn't I say shut up, Frank?" She gets her strong hands get under my front, and seemingly without effort, rolls me onto my right side. Facing her. Looking up, I see her crouching beside me - still naked, but smiling with self-satisfaction.

"Well," she smirks, "How's that shoe feel, on the other foot?"

"All right, Viktoria, all right," I say, trying to sound composed, but probably failing. "Game's over, don't you think?"

"No," she replies flatly, "I don't think so, Franklin, I really don't..."

"Please, let's be reasonable -"

Without answering, she rises and disappears around my desk. When she comes back, she's got my necktie in one hand and her pale-blue panties in the other - that is, the hand which is working between her legs, sopping up her juicy arousal with her undies. I can see now, the thrill of tying me up has re-fired something in that "hot belly" she was talking about. But I think this fire is something else...

"I warned you," she sneers. "Since you won't shut up, I'll have to do it for you."

"Vik -?"

Leaning in, she grabs my hair with one hand, jerking my head back - with the other, she wads the damp, salty-tasting satin into my open trap. "Wait - mmmmph!" Grasping my jaw in one hand, thumb securing the gag in my mouth, she draws the necktie between my teeth, wraps it twice around my head, and makes a bow in front - knotting it tight.

"Nnn-NNGH!" I complain.

Not wasting any time, she moves on to undoing my belt and fly, yanks my pants and drawers down my thighs, then re-buckles my belt just below my knees... So much for the one free leg, however useless anyway. Next, she pulls up my shirt-tails, exposing my junk. Finally, she shows me the plain, cheap store-bought dog collar - not that - and I feel her circle the leather band around my neck, tight at the throat, and buckle it in back.

All that done, she sits back. Catching her breath, she winks at me. "No, its not over... pet."

Satisfied with herself, she rises to her feet, looking sprightly and self-possessed. I appreciate the irony: This time, it's the naked woman who's standing tall over the clothed, but conquered, male. Again she disappears around my desk. Since I'm immobilized behind it - just a few feet away from my so-called seat of authority - I can't see where she goes or what she does.

But soon enough, I hear it: She is taking a shower. So I wait. Not much else I can do. I would twiddle my thumbs, but at the moment, they can't reach one another.

When she finally returns, a good twenty agonizing minutes later, she is putting on her earrings as she strolls around the corner of my desk. She has redressed. Black pumps on her feet, skirt straight, blouse tucked in, sans bow. Necklace and bangles in place, stockings smoothed up her shapely legs. Makeup refreshed. She even has her glasses back on. Same as it was all day.

Well... not wearing her blazer. Or her panties, come to think of it.

And, tucked under one silk-clad arm, she has my riding-crop. Gracefully, she reclines on the carpeting in front of me, curls her legs under her, one hand propped on the floor. I see her hair is dry, so she must have located the shower caps in the cabinet. Her face is still flushed from the hot brace of the shower, her cheeks and eyes bright. She is smiling, looking relaxed. She lays the whip gently across her lap.

"Nnghh?"

Cheerfully, she picks up where she left off. "No, Franklin, this game's not over until I decide it is. I mean, who's got the final say here, really? The proud, educated, well-dressed black woman who can advocate for her views, articulate meaningful arguments - you know, speak?"

She boops my nose. "Or the hogtied, white boy-toy with someone else's panties in his mouth?"

"Mmphh!" I grunt defiantly.

But my defiance is tempered with admiration: This is an expert taunting. I do it well, I think - taunting - and I've watched pro-Dommes do it very well. But I have trouble recalling one quite so inspired. Makes me wonder whether there was something "else" about Vik that I neglected to pry out of her while I still had her dangling in my ropes...

...Which, frankly, seems like ancient history, at the moment.

"I mean, fair's fair," she goes with an eyebrow cocked, smiling wickedly. "So, hearing no objections -"

Suddenly, she lifts her phone and snaps a close-up of my panty-gagged face. *zz-click.*

"Mmggh!!" No time to react, I try and look angry. But I bet I just look stupid.

Quickly, she pulls back and takes a series of longer views: Me with my shirt-tails yanked up, showing off the collar, dick-pic-naked down to my knees. *zz-click.* My penis chubbed but drooping, looking sticky-wet. A pasty white captive-cock.

I growl into the sticky-wet bundle of shame in my mouth, wanting out of this mess, frustrated I can't bargain for it... and doubting that it's coming anytime soon.

Vik giggles at her phone, scrolling back through her new pics, cackling at some. "Speaking of fair, I hope you recall this little detail of our bargain the way I do. Your words, 'I promise, I won't take blackmail pics.'"

Grinning, she prods playfully at my shoulder. "You dummy, you forgot to get reciprocity! Nothing about me not photographing you."

I growl.

"A lapse in your negotiating skills, Frank," she scolds, twirling the crop in one hand. "You should be sanctioned for that... severely."

I shoot back a look that says, Bring it on.

"Oooh, look at your eyes!" Vik giggles. "Oh, I'm not taking it out of your hide, silly. These pics are worth a lot more to me than a quick, man-whipping thrill. Although we may get to that..."

She laughs mockingly. But I'm not giving her the satisfaction of any more grunts or grumbles of protest. Or futile struggling, for that matter.

Okay, I am stuck. And fucked. Now what?

She wiggles her iPhone in the air. "But what are these worth? Here, now, you're helpless and I can get whatever I want. No, these are worth something more long-term. No, my tied-up, balls-out, blackmailed plaything..."

She fiddles absently with the D-ring at the front of my collar, nodding toward her phone. "With these, pet, I mean to take you for everything..."

... And as she goes on explaining what she means by that, my eyes widen and I fall into a a state of terrified fascination. And despite myself... agonizing arousal.

* * *

"No, pet, this is how it will go for you...

"Labor Day weekend, bright and early Saturday morning, you'll report for duty at my farm. It's up in El Dorado County. Rural, isolated... not really a farm, just a vacation house and a barn on about four acres of wild land. I co-own it with three of my besties. All women of color, by the way, dunno know why I'm bringing that up...

"Anyway, we kind of share the place and take turns using it. This weekend, though, we'll all be there. Of course we will! - My sisters are eager to see me put my naked white slave-pet on his knees and in his place. Trouble picturing it, Franklin? Hm? Well, best start wrapping your head around it, bitch. There are a lot more humiliating pics I can still take...

"Now, me and my sisters will have arrived Friday night, and over dinner and drinks, we'll come to a consensus about what to do with you. That's how everything is with me and my strong sisters, pet. Consensus.

"Knowing my girls, they might just want to have a little fun with you, huh? Tie you up and spank you. Let you stand up to do yardwork on the grounds - I mean, naked, collared and gagged, of course - or miscellaneous chores around the house. Maybe pop out the gag and let you speak, beg forgiveness, answer interrogation... put your mouth to other uses. Give you rest breaks, I dunno, let you sit upright to eat. Get dressed, even - imagine that! - so we can take you out on the town - where of course we'll publicly humiliate you. That's all delicious to me, pet, and if it's what my sisters want, I could be talked into it."

"But me... I've got other ideas about you, pet. Less gentle ones. I'll be advocating for those... and don't forget, I am an accomplished trial advocate."

"Left to me - well, do you really think I'd let you stand upright, rest, speak - dress? Bitch, please! Not me... not you."

She licks her lips. "See, being a male, you're naturally inferior, which means you don't deserve clothes - you deserve naked, kneeling subjugation. But being a white, well... that's just doubly inferior. That means you need to be whipped down, broken, and trained back up like a housebroken pup. Taught to serve, please and obey your brown, female betters.

"That's what Labor Day weekend is all about, puppy-slave, breaking and retraining you. That means, as soon as you arrive - not one minute after seven! - you'll strip 'slave-naked' for me in the driveway, go down on all fours, and lick the boots of your overseer -That's me, pet. The fierce, Black female in charge of retraining your unfortunate, white, male ass.

"The same way whites get no clothes on my farm, you get no opinions, either. That means my second order of business is to gag your mouth. You'll start to feel it right away... how the bit and the muzzle start to dehumanize you. This is just the beginning of that for you, Franklin....

"Third, I'll take charge of your ass - plug your boy-hole with a precious little puppy-tail for you to wag while you crawl. Not only dehumanizing, that plug... but you'll see, having his anus violated and filled makes a man a lot more submissive, and fast.

"Fourth is collaring you, putting you on my leash. That's how you'll spend the long weekend, actually: naked on all fours, plugged, muzzled, collared and leashed.

"You're under my heel now, humbled, completely controlled. You see, pet, I don't need 'cooperation' from any white male I train. I use enforced compliance."

* I hear a low, lustful moan... and I realize it came from my own gagged mouth. Vik shoots me a disapproving look. I notice then, the way she's wearing her glasses while she weaves her own twisted tale - that's not just hot, it somehow makes her look kind of dangerous. *

"You'll crawl at heel on the end of my leash, pet, around the house to the patio out back. There, I'll parade you in the hot sun while my besties enjoy their iced teas in the shade. The heartless pleasure they take in your misery, all the taunts and cat-calls, the degrading names you hear them call you... you'll find that dehumanizing, too.

"And that's how your breaking really starts, slave: with your naked white ass humiliated, controlled and afraid, at the feet of four fine-dressed, beautiful brown sisters.

"Next is a quick - but nasty - buggy-whipping. Understand, I'm not punishing you for anything you've done yet. Just breaking you down a little to start, reinforcing my dominance, making you respect the pain I can inflict.

"Once I've got you whip-striped and compliant, now you're ready to begin formal training. I always start by educating my whites, what's left of their miserable, patriarchal manhood belongs to me. That's what I do, slave: I train white cock to obey.

"Yours, I'll put on display for my besties. Its sole purpose is to please the demanding, judgmental eyes of these beautiful brown ladies with a well-behaved erection at all times. At... all... times. If it fails, you'll be punished... and it does, so you are. Don't worry, though, eventually I'll have your cock trained to obey."

* Fuck me. My balls tingle and my cock is chubbing back up. And Vik sees it, licking her lips, wickedly enjoying how she's getting her way with me... using "words alone." More specifically, threats. *

"Oooh, I see what you're thinking! She can't do that for real, can she? Bitch, I've trained white cocks with half your stamina to show me constant respect! Don't believe me? You'll see...

"I'll tie up your cock and balls with your own shoelaces, keep your erection trapped at my mercy. Plug your boy-cunt with a vibrator, strap it in deep, and play with the settings. Edge you constantly, and deny you every time. Slap your face to refocus you. Crop your defenseless dick 'til it's red as a fire truck.

"Edge and deny you, edge and deny you...

"And in no time, I'll have your wide, disbelieving eyes weeping like a spanked little girl, and your muzzled mouth slobbering and moaning for mercy and release...

"You'll get neither from me." She swivels around and lies on her front, facing me, chin propped up on one hand. "And you'll see, slave, each orgasm you're denied just makes you more and more meek and submissive at my feet. That's you breaking down..."