Playing with Perspective Pt. 03

Surrender, a short story, by His pet sarah

I'm kneeling quietly, patiently, obediently beside His chair. My body is still tender, and shaking slightly, but I'm trying to hold myself as still as I can for Him. My face is flushed with arousal, betraying my physical state, and yet my mind feels utterly at peace, and in balance. He has already rewarded me generously for the tasks I performed well for Him, and He has justly punished me for the ones where I disappointed Him. What more do I need?

He already knows me better than I know myself. He watches over me. He teaches me. He cares for me. He hurts me but would never harm me. My trust in Him feels complete. I've abandoned my own expectations for now. What decision could be easier? He exceeds my expectations every time anyway. I don't need to guess what might happen. I don't need to hope that events between us take a path I imagined. I don't have to remind Him what I prefer, or what I dislike; what I find difficult, or what makes my heart sing. I don't have to know anything at all to still feel safe, comfortable, submissive and horny. I can leave the details up to Him.

This is not meant to imply that I've suddenly become passive. I am not a silent passenger watching the scenery pass by. I am craving His approval! I am aching for His touch! I am eager to please Him! In every moment between us, my mind and my body are fully engaged, focused on His presence, hanging on His every word, ready to do as He asks.

What this does imply is that I've finally abandoned the checklists. I'm finished reading the how-to books. I'm no longer hung up on the conventions, and the clichés. I'm not interested in other people's stories, only in our own. The one we are creating together.

That's why I'm kneeling quietly, patiently, obediently beside His chair. Waiting for Him, because only He knows what comes next. That is exactly how it should be.

* * *

"Twen-dy!"

As the room faded back into silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of her heavy breathing, I released my hold and gently allowed her to slide off my legs and down onto her knees. She was smiling dazedly, at least as much as she could with her lips and teeth still holding tight to her punishment. She had made it! I was more impressed with that success than I was disappointed in a lost opportunity to torment her any further -- as much as both of us would have probably enjoyed it.

I could tell she was flying on endorphins now. She was moving more easily, as though the rope at her crotch had become an accepted part of her, and she sat her ass back on the heels of her boots without even wincing. Her eyes were wild and wide, make-up smudged, and her hair was in tousled disarray; but she didn't seem to care. She did briefly touch her cheeks, still radiant with heat, glowing a distressed shade of red that matched her ass quite closely. But I could see the colour starting to fade, which told me the flush was mostly from when her head had been hanging upside down, and not from any extreme reaction or embarrassment. Twenty hard spanks (plus a few extra) was hardly a severe test, but it was enough for her first time.

"Would you like to get rid of those nasty little panties?" I asked her teasingly, and she nodded so urgently it caused them to flap in front of her face.

"Yes, Christopher!" she pleaded through clenched teeth, looking every bit like a faithful pet in that moment. Not an iota of self-consciousness left, totally caught up in the moment, fully embracing her own part in this. A more foolish or bratty girl might have let the panties go right then and there, falling into another trap I had tried to set. But she held on, waiting for my command. I was going to have to come up with more clever tricks before this night was over!

"You are a such a good girl for showing me that you know the difference between a question and a command," I remarked proudly. I wanted her to feel the praise she rightly deserved, while also understanding just how fine a line she was still walking, and how careful and attentive I expected her to be. It wasn't time for her to relax yet.

"You can stay down on your knees for the moment, except that I would like you to clasp your hands behind your back for me."

She shifted into a slightly more stable position before reaching behind herself. I watched carefully as she brought her hands together, her spine straightening further, her shoulders rolling back, her arms making just a slight 'V' shape downwards. She seemed flexible enough, and it didn't look like the position would cause her too much discomfort. I left her in place like that, giving her a few seconds to limber up naturally, while I obtained another bundle of rope from the bedroom. I also tucked another important item into my trousers. Then I knelt down and bound her hands quickly and firmly behind her, before she had any time to realize she was crossing a new point of no return.

I wasn't rough with her, and I didn't force her wrists tightly together. I let them sit apart a few inches while I wrapped the rope several times around the outsides, in neat parallel lines. I knew the extra gap would relieve some strain on her arms and back, while I figured out her true endurance for this. I brought the lines down and under, adding a few wraps around the ropes between her wrists before tying it all off, which tightened the loops inescapably and eliminated any loose ends. Then I stepped around in front of her, unzipped my pants, pulled my painfully erect cock out past my briefs, and let it hang expectantly above her face.

"I think it's time for you to thank me for everything I've done so far. Bring those pretty red lips up and at the ready."

I watched as she brought her face forward, raising herself up on her knees in an attempt to place her mouth higher than my cock, which was reaching more up than out in rigid attention. With her hands bound, this was an awkward and unfamiliar move and she wobbled unsteadily, but I purposely did nothing to help her when she fell against me slightly. Rocking back up again, she managed to find her balance and was able to place her mouth right where I wanted. Her eyes tilted to look up at me obediently, and I locked my gaze with hers. And it was only then, as she opened wide and took me in, that the panties at long last fell to the floor.

I interrupted almost immediately. "Now stop right there. Don't move a muscle until I tell you. I want to appreciate this moment. It's been a long time coming." She froze, my cock a few inches inside her mouth, lips stretched wide around me. Staying perfectly still would be difficult to manage, and while she tried, I could enjoy the small movements of her mouth creating suction on my cock to keep herself steady. She was holding on quite well, but It was about to get much harder.

I reached into the right pocket of my pants and found the remote control that was hidden there. Without revealing its presence, I felt my way to the 'On' button and pressed it once to activate the lowest setting. Her body quaked with shock as she felt the entirely forgotten vibrator jolt to life inside of her, head jerking forward involuntarily so that she barely kept herself from choking on me.

This time I did provide a little assistance, grabbing the hair at the back of her head and holding her in place. "I told you not to move, my pet!" I admonished. This was met with a pitiful whimper.

"Good. Now, would you like to learn how to give me a proper blow job?"

* * *

My response was unintelligible, but he knew what I was trying to say.

Whether I would remember any of these instructions in the future was another matter. The overpowering effect of his hand gripped in my hair was more than enough on its own to capsize my brain. Of course, that had been true from the first time he took hold of me in the hotel lobby, but now the back of my head was only one of many ways in which he had claimed me, each vying for the right to be the one that overwhelmed me. My wrists straining. My ass clenching. My mouth stretching. My clit aching. My legs trembling. My pussy throbbing. The effects of my predicament were mounting quickly. I clutched desperately at his words when he spoke again, trying to keep myself afloat.

"I want you to understand that my power is very deeply connected to my erection. Your primary task as my submissive is to keep stoking that fire, not to put it out. Now start moving, slow and steady, and as you do that, I want you to visualize your will, and your devotion, flowing out of you and into me."

Why even pretend there was any free will left to give up? I was just happy to be allowed to return some of his attention. Even without my hands to use, I was confident I could give him the care he was expecting. I knew my way around a blowjob, and felt over-prepared because I had been imagining this moment for such a long time already.

Eagerly, I raised up as high as I could on my knees and began bobbing up and down, engulfing him with my mouth and circling my tongue enthusiastically around his shaft. I wanted to show him that I wouldn't hold back, and was ready to do whatever it took to please him.

"No! What did I just tell you? Slow and steady. Show me your obedience, not your technique. I don't care what you think you know already. Let all of that go, and just do what I say."

Chastened, I immediately adjusted my pace as he ordered. I pushed my mouth down onto him again and then very slowly pulled back, allowing my saliva to build and my lips to glide more seductively upwards. Closing my eyes, I let myself be entranced by his thickness, his heat, the throb of his pulse against my tongue as I found the rhythm he desired. After a short while, I slithered right up to the tip of his cock where I lingered briefly, lips trembling. I opened my eyes again and glanced upwards at him for his approval, before turning my attention down again as I took the next plunge.

"Much better. Next time up you can swirl your tongue around the head a few times, not too hard. Then come off and turn your face up to me."

I did as I was told and felt his body jerk sharply in response. Mmmm, such a strong reaction! I understood that he was letting me see how sensitive the tip of his cock was, and how delicate I needed to be with it. Grateful and fully compliant, I let my mouth slip off the end of his cock gently and wetly. There was a strand of clear liquid hanging between him and my lips as I pulled back, and more leaked out as I watched him twitch. After I tilted my head back for him, he let his shaft slap and bounce against my right cheek so that I was smeared with wetness. Goddamn I liked how that made me feel! Wanton. Shameless. Made to serve.

"Yes, this is how I like my cock to be maintained. Hard, twitching, dripping. Hungry and lusting, sometimes close to the edge, but rarely over. Now, take me a bit deeper if you can. Keep your eyes locked on mine as you do."

I moved even more slowly this time, teasingly trying to extend the next stroke. My eyelids fluttered helplessly as I fought to maintain eye contact while taking him into the very back of my mouth, and holding him there. It was immensely difficult to keep my eyes on his gaze as I did, and I was acutely aware that it was intensifying my own suffering. But it allowed me to see clearly in his face how it was my attitude, my surrender, that was driving his arousal far more than any specific action. By following his instructions precisely, pleasing him in that way, deepening my submission to him, increasing my own acceptance, I suddenly began to feel the uninhibited flow of power he had told me visualize.

"Good girl. You should know that I don't particularly care for the sound of gagging. Only go as far as you are comfortable. I have little interest in testing that limit, we can leave it to the porn sites."

I would have done whatever he told me to, but I was happy to hear his stance on it. I went down deeply on him a few more times, showing how much I could take without pushing it, and I could see he was pleased with that. He kept his hand in my hair, guiding my head, and I felt utterly owned and controlled but never forced. Not quite what I had expected, I suppose, but in a good way. It had never really occurred to me that the idea of limits cut in both directions. We had been very deliberate over the past several weeks in making sure he knew all of my boundaries, and here I was realizing, with a small measure of shame, that I still had plenty to learn about his own tastes. I could put that shame to use right away: as a means to keep my focus locked on him, and as motivation to remember these lessons afterwards.

And then he clicked the vibrator up another notch, and my inner monologue crumbled all over again.

"Another reward for good behaviour. One last piece of advice, though: even without hands, don't forget my balls. My meticulous grooming efforts should never go to waste!"

He smirked at me, clearly relishing the sound of my helpless moaning. It was impossible to ignore the relentless buzzing inside me, and I was ramping up into another soul-rending orgasm. I tried to act on his instructions, but with my mouth off his shaft and trying to move underneath, there was nothing for me to balance against and I needed to fully support myself with my thighs at a demanding angle. My legs immediately began to fail me, and all I managed to do was fall backwards onto my heels weakly.

I tried to stay there and wiggle forward to reach my face up under his sack, but he would not allow it. He shook his head at me in mock disappointment, still smiling. "I can see we need to work on your strength and endurance. I will grant you a reprieve, but it's going to cost you something."

I looked up at him wincingly.

"Your permission to cum has been revoked until further notice."

And then he reached into his pocket and pressed the fucking button again.

* * *

She looked, for just a moment, like she might actually burst into tears.

I didn't want to overreact to that, but I was fully prepared to adapt based on what I saw develop next. A few tears were a natural release of tension and a perfectly normal reaction. Any more than that, and I wouldn't take chances with her physical and emotional state. Not for a first time. Neither of us really knew going in how she was ultimately going to react, and there was no real cost in taking a time-out if she needed it. But I wanted to preserve the momentum if I could, so I needed to seek out other non-verbal cues that would tell me her precise state of mind, maybe even before she knew it herself.

I watched her facial expression harden a bit, as she braced herself against the current predicament and pushed her mind away from the overwhelming sensations. I watched her clench and then loosen her thighs, experimenting to find a position that reduced the impact of the vibrations inside her. I watched the heaving in her chest gradually ease and become rhythmic again as she regained control of her breathing. I watched her raise her head in search of my gaze, shifting focus away from herself and back on to me again. Through all of this, I saw resilience. I saw determination. I saw acceptance.

I also saw one more tear run down her cheek. From raw effort, more than raw emotion. Nothing more.

I reached out and swept up the droplet with my finger and mimed slipping it into a pocket, like a tiny keepsake from our adventure. With the same hand, I turned the vibrator back down to the lowest setting, to acknowledge and reward her for her self-discipline. I was glad I didn't need to change course, so I was perfectly happy to help her endure. Of course, any gift from me comes with at least some small price. I took two steps back, grabbed hold of my belt buckle, and in a single motion yanked the leather strap theatrically out from my pants with a loud snap.

The look in her eyes was my reward here. There were so many different things I could be intending to do with a belt in my hand, and all of those ideas flashed across her face in an instant. What she didn't expect was for me to just slip the end of the belt back through the buckle, and place the closed loop down over her head. I narrowed it firmly around her neck and, still gripping the other end like a leash, I left her on her knees and pulled her brusquely in the direction of the bedroom.

It was a struggle for her, with her wrists tied and her legs tired. She didn't have far to go across the carpeted floor, but she could only make lurching progress several inches at a time, and my insistent tugging kept her from stopping to rest until we were beside the bed. I allowed her to sit back on her heels again, and hung the belt strap down her spine so there was a slight but constant weight tugging on her throat. I slipped my shoes off and pushed them away against a wall, and then let her watch me as I began undoing buttons on my shirt slowly and deliberately. Once the sleeves were loose and my chest was partially exposed, I stopped and gestured to her. "This should be one of your jobs, pet."

"Yes please, Christopher!" Her expression was eager, but a tilt of the head and wiggle of arms behind her back was a confession that she wasn't quite sure how to proceed. I sat down on the edge of the bed, lifted one socked foot, and brought it to her mouth pointedly. She grimaced, but took the hint and held the end of the sock with her teeth as I pulled my foot down. A few yanks and it was off, and then the other one followed soon after, obedience well tested once again.

I stood up again, and helped her to her feet so she could reach the buttons on my shirt more easily with her mouth. I figured this task would be nearly impossible, and was looking forward to watching her struggle. To my surprise, she managed to get the first one undone almost immediately. She clearly had a technique in mind, something she must have tried before, but the next button was not nearly as cooperative, and the vibrator was very effectively ruining her focus. Eventually she moaned bitterly and was forced to give up, giving me the satisfaction I wanted.

"I'm sorry, Christopher, I can't do it," she admitted, looking suitably remorseful.

I clicked my tongue in teasing disappointment and finished the last two buttons for her, then offered her each cuff to hold with her teeth so I could pull my arms out. As the shirt fell to the ground, I turned her so she was facing away from me, giving her only the briefest glance of my broad, mostly hairless chest. Then I stepped in behind her so that her bound hands were pressed right up against my crotch.

"Now the pants," I instructed, and she moaned excitedly and began feeling for the clasp.

I indulged her while she pretended that she couldn't find it right away, exploring with her fingers and fondling my cock still hanging half out through the fly. Eventually I cleared my throat in warning, and moments later the pants were sliding down my legs. My briefs were not far behind. I stepped out of them and pressed myself against her ass, allowing her to hold me while I reached around and began to undo the rope that was still embedded in her crotch. As the knot came open and the pressure was released, she cried out in a mix of anguish and relief and fell back against me. I held her steady with an arm across her chest, while my other hand reached down and caught the vibrating egg as it got expelled involuntarily. Before I turned it off, I pressed it against her clit until she shrieked and spasmed, still managing to hold herself off from a total meltdown.

Tossing the sodden rope and vibe aside, I walked her toward the bed and pushed her upper body down from the waist so that her legs were spread and her face was pressed into the sheets. With this lovely view below me I was reminded of the plug still in her ass, and I reached down and tugged at it roughly. Her hips bucked in response, and I held my shaft in position, ready to plunge myself deep inside her. To my dismay, I realized that our relative heights along with the height of the bed were not going to make a perfect match. In order to thoroughly fuck her this way, I would be forced to keep my legs bent for the entire duration. I probably had the strength for it, but discomfort wasn't something I felt was my role to endure, as had already been well established.