The Castle Ch. 01

Story Info
Intense BDSM fantasy
3.5k words
4.06
26.1k
2
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

He gave me strict instructions that day of what I was to wear for the evening ahead; the clothes were all laid out for me when I went upstairs to bath and change.

He had chosen black sheer stockings, black suspenders, a very plain black silk corset with deep red lacing ribbons and a dark red dress made of leather, softened till the long skirt flowed round my ankles like silk emphasising the fitted bodice above. With high black heels I looked in the mirror and found that I looked simple but striking, formal yet decadent.

Whilst we are in the car He pulls from His pocket a dark red leather collar, made to match the dress I am wearing and fastens it around my neck gently, ensuring that it is a close fit.

I have no idea where we are going but when the car turns off the main road through a set of high gates and starts onto a winding track I turn and asked Him for the first time. As I knew He would, He just smiles and tells me to wait. We are driving up a single strip of well maintained tarmac, through dense forest, the road bending and rising all the time.

Although it is some time till sunset the trees around us are so thick and tall that they barely let any sun through to the road and it feels like night has fallen instantaneously. The car continues to climb in between the trees for several minutes until suddenly we came back out into the evening sun and draw up in front of a castle, all rounded curves and turrets constructed of yellow sandstone.

He takes my hand and helps me from the car, as we walk up to the entrance a liveried butler comes to meet us, shaking His hand and bowing formally to me, welcoming us and assuring Him that everything has been organised according to His specifications. He pauses briefly on the threshold and takes from His pocket my leash, clipping it quickly to my collar with the familiar soft snick of metal that always makes my pulse jump and my skin shiver with anticipation. We follow the butler through the entrance and begin to climb the staircase in front of us, as we walk up the stone steps my pace slows whilst I looked around me taking in the view from the stairs down to the cavernous hallway beneath and up to the intricate carved ceiling. A swift jerk on my collar and the slight rattle of the chain of my leash indicate that I was walking too slowly for Him and I hurry to keep up with His strides.

I see the butler turn slightly with a bemused expression, watching us; I am familiar with this particular expression, one that is always used by others watching me being led like a pet.

None of them ever realise how much I love it, they look at me with pity, whether for being under another’s control or behaving like a plaything I can never decide but I always get a thrill of excitement when He holds me on my leash. My head is held higher, my posture upright and proud, because that’s how I feel when He leads me; proud to be His, proud of being completely at His command and secure in the knowledge that I’m the only pet He desires.

We walk down a long corridor with a mirror at the end, as I stare into my reflection I feel a rush of sexual tension run through me; I look so unattainable in the clothes I am wearing, my hair long and loose around my shoulders; yet linked both physically and emotionally to my Master. He is watching us too, with an expression I can’t read on His face – pride, desire, contentment? The butler opens a large set of double wooden doors with a slow heavy creak and stands back to allow us to pass into the room.

It is a dark room except for a roaring log fire in one wall throwing shadows across the twilight, making the gold upholstery on the two chaise longues gleam, the gold leaf on the ceiling shine dully. Once we are inside, the butler bows silently and leaves, closing the doors. He turns to me slowly and smiles telling me how wonderful I look and asking me if I like the room. I tell Him truthfully that it is beautiful and ask how He had managed to find a castle to hire for the evening. He looks at me for a moment, shakes His head almost imperceptibly and doesn’t reply, I take the hint, He doesn’t want to answer questions, I am just meant to relax and enjoy the evening.

He leads me over to the chaise near the fire, turns so I can remove His jacket and sits down, leaning back to look at me from head to toe as I stand before Him. I love it when He looks at me like this, taking in every detail of my body; I watch His face to gauge His approval and His intentions for me. He moves forwards and reaches up to brush my hair back over my shoulders; runs His finger tips down my neck to the curve and swell of my breasts above the soft red leather, He feels me shiver down the length of my body and smiles.

“Take it off pet”

I reach round my back to slide the zip down, the soft leather around my legs sliding gently to the floor followed by the stiffness of the bodice which lies in a heap at my feet. I stand in front of Him wearing the black silk corset and black stockings which form a stark contrast to the pale skin within; He pulls my leash slightly to the right

“Turn around pet”

My heels tap on the stone floor as I move round and sense rather than hear the intake of His breath as I stand with my back facing Him, He tells me to move my hair in front of my shoulders and I feel His gaze moving from the leather collar at my neck down past my shoulder blades, following the line of lacing to my bare arse and the lace at the top of my stockings.

I know that this is one of His favourite views; stiff black fabric against smooth creamy-white skin, the curve of my inner thighs against suspenders and lace. I stand motionless barely breathing, waiting inside for the familiar sting of His palm against my arse cheeks to set me on fire. But it never comes.

Instead there is a soft knock at the door and the butler appears with a tray, pausing only momentarily in his stride to do a double-take at me standing before my Master in stockings, corset and heels, my leash around my neck. The butler moves to pour His drink and then departs without saying a word.

Once the doors are closed again I feel the tension inwardly building as I wait for His touch but He simply moves to get more comfortable in His seat and reaches for His drink.

“Kneel down pet”

I turn to kneel at His feet, my skin shivering slightly as it touches the stone floor I lean my head on His thigh and look up at Him. He smiles and strokes my hair with the chain of my leash still wrapped around His palm.

We sit for some time like this, His eyes travelling across my face and body, mine watching His face for the tell tale change of expression to come over it.

At last He puts His drink down and reaching around my neck unclasps my leash letting it fall to the floor with a loud rattle of chain. He takes my hair gently in His hand and wraps it around His palm, becoming more forceful with each twist, pulling my head back off His thigh so my neck is outstretched before Him.

“How is my pet this evening?”

I tell Him I am craving His touch and He smiles slightly, pulling my hair harder so my head is bent as far as it can go, the sinews on my neck standing out.

He bends forwards to kiss me softly on the lips, His tongue snaking into my mouth before kissing me hard pushing my head back further still, His hand releases my hair to trace down my arm leaving me shivering with anticipation.

Abruptly He stands and pulls me to my feet by my hair, then holding my hand takes me through a set of doors at the far end of the room. This second room is a bedroom, a huge four poster bed dominating the area with yet another fireplace on the opposite wall with flames roaring up the chimney although it’s a warm evening.

He walks me over to the base of the bed, reaches down to the covers and picks up a piece of thick black silk which He ties around my eyes blocking even the tiniest chink of light from my view.

“Give me your hands pet”

I hold them out in front of me wrists crossed as I feel Him tying them together, raising them up so my fingers touch the wood of the bed posts and feeling the sharp tug with each loop and knot. This is the moment when I really know I am meant for this life; I can’t see or move my arms and the senses of touch and sound are heightened to the maximum. I love knowing that He can do whatever He likes to me and it always comes as a surprise; it’s the element of the unknown that I love, coupled with the knowledge that He would never do anything I didn’t enjoy – His pleasure is gained from watching me submit, from watching me rise and fall through the orgasms at His touch.

I hear the heavy scrape of a chair followed by the soft sigh of leather as He sits, I can feel Him just behind me, His face level with the small of my back, His eyes on my body in front of Him. I hear His breathing deepen as He looks at me tied before Him, blindfolded and waiting for His touch; know that His cock is stiffening already as He takes His time enjoying my helplessness and His control.

“Spread your legs wide”

His voice has changed, is deeper and harder and I comply immediately. I hear Him slide from the chair to sit on the floor in between my legs, the fabric of His trousers brushing my ankles. His hands wrap around my heels, moving up the smooth leather onto the sheer rasp of my stockings, they move tortuously slowly, my cunt muscles tightening as they rise up my thigh.

The sensation of His touch changes as He reaches the lace tops of my stockings and I gasp as His hands reach bare skin. Immediately His right hand leaves my thigh and spanks me hard across my arse. I jolt into the wooden bed post with shock and the force of the slap, feeling the blood rushing to the heat on my arse. His hand strokes the same spot gently then returns to my thigh, His thumbs running up the inner sensitive skin to trace the outline curve of my arse. With His left hand He grasps my hip and pulls my arse towards Him, the fingers of His right hand stroking along from my arse to my cunt lips, opening them wide and leaning forward to push the tip of His tongue into me.

I moan and feel my muscles tighten around His hard wet tongue and feel Him smile around my cunt in response to my arousal. I rest my head on the wood in front of me and lean my breasts into the post, pushing my cunt onto His face and moving my hips back and forwards slowly to increase the sensation. His hands grip my thighs like a vice as I feel His tongue driving deeper with more force into me; hear the wetness of my cunt with His tongue inside me; making me shiver with desire, feeling my pulse pounding at my bound wrists.

I feel the familiar rise in my temperature, hear my breathing quicken as I moan and pull against the rope at my wrists, His hand coming around my front to reach down and rub my clit hard as His tongue moves faster and deeper within me. I moan and gasp as I feel the first wave of orgasm coming, moving my cunt above His tongue, fucking His face and knowing He loves it, my nails digging into the wood in front of me, every muscle tightening as I feel His tongue and hands on me keeping the rhythm fast until He hears me gasp and hold my breath, my head stretched back, only my hips moving in time to His tongue as I cum.

He slows and slides both hands up my waist to caress my breasts while He listens to me catch my breath and relax above Him. He stands behind me wraps me up tight in His arms and holds me for a moment, whispering softly in my ear, His mouth at my jaw I can smell my cum on His face.

He moves away and sits again in the chair behind me, the chink of glassware tells me He is having another drink and I know He will be watching me, enjoying my helplessness before Him.

Suddenly from nowhere His hand smacks my arse, hard. I’m taken by surprise and gasp, my hands clenching within the ropes. He runs a finger from my collar down between my shoulder blades gently, as His other palm strikes my arse again. His left hand moves to stroke my hip softly whilst His right continues to spank me; the pressure kept the same, the rhythm steady, not allowing me a chance to catch my breath between strokes.

I lean into the bed post again, outwardly not moving except for the involuntary tensing when His hand makes contact with my skin; inwardly feeling my pulse rising quickly, my breathing intensify, loving the contrast between the soft caress of one hand and the hard sharp sting of the other. The right side of my arse feels like it’s burning now, has been smacked over and over on the same spot, He’s a big man and is strong but He knows my limits and His own, I know I have nothing to fear; I’m there for pleasure alone.

I can feel the rise towards orgasm building inside me, when He alters His stroke and begins to spank with His left hand instead, swift strokes slightly harder than with His right hand which is now softly caressing my inner thighs which tighten around Him with each blow to my arse. It’s the rhythm I love, the complete submission. He determines the speed and the force, He decides when to stop and when to continue, watching me to tell how aroused I’m becoming, He either pushes me on to orgasm or slows me down to tease and make me beg.

I love not knowing what will happen, just knowing that He wants to please me in new ways and gets turned on Himself to unimaginable heights from watching me under His control.

He stops suddenly, gets out of the chair and moves away from me. It’s only now that my arse cheeks begin to register the pain, the skin burning and hot, missing His touch already. I hear Him moving around the room, taking a drink then returning to His seat and leaning forwards to kiss the base of my spine lightly.

I want to beg Him to continue, tell Him that I was only minutes away from cumming, that I need to feel Him on me and with me; but I know that He knows.

I feel His fingers untying the bow at the base of my corset, loosening the ribbons slowly and methodically, feeling my bare back revealed before His eyes inch by inch. When He finally reaches the top He peels it away from my breasts and drops it onto the floor, His hands stroking up my stomach to hold the weight of my breasts, His tongue running lightly up and down my spine, His breath hot on my back. His thumbs and forefingers take my nipples and squeeze them firmly, rolling them and pulling them so they harden instantly beneath His touch, His big hands covering my breasts kneading and rubbing them with His palms whilst His fingers tease my nipples, I thrust my breasts into His hands, the solid wood of the bedpost in my cleavage.

I feel myself tensing to cum almost immediately, my head stretching back, my hips driving my cunt up against the bedpost in front of me, my breath coming in gasps. He laughs quietly and gives my nipples a final twist.

“Not yet”

He moves around me and I feel Him untying my wrists from the bedpost, holding the rope in His hand He pulls gently and leads me across the room, from the increasing heat I know we must be near the fireplace. I hear Him grunt slightly as He stretches up then pulls the rope swiftly, yanking my hands above my head instantly, pulling them higher until I feel like my feet will almost lift of the floor, every muscle stretched upwards as He ties the rope off securely.

I can feel the heat from the fire warming my back and still burning arse, hear Him pacing the floor in front of me, knowing He is watching me, loving the vulnerability in my posture now. I couldn’t hide anything from Him at this moment even if I wanted to, I’m completely on show, not even a wooden post to lean against, hanging suspended from the ceiling, naked apart from stockings and suspenders and blindfold in the centre of the room, my feet barely on the floor.

His footsteps halt in front of me and I feel something trace a line from my chin, down between my breasts across my stomach to my throbbing clit. He flicks my clit swiftly and I realise He has a crop in His hands, the tell tale sting of leather making me jump. He walks slowly around me and delivers half a dozen strokes to my arse, making me moan and pull on my restraints.

He continues to walk around me in slow circles cropping me with random strokes to my nipples, legs and back, not hard enough to bring real pleasure, more of a reminder that He’s there and is just enjoying the view of me.

After several minutes I’m struggling inside with the waiting and am breathless from anticipation when He brings the crop down hard on my left nipple. This time I gasp and flinch, I’ve never known a man as accurate with a crop as He is; He hits the nipple squarely and makes me melt without contact on any other part of my body. It’s a strange combination of touch, the sting of the leather brings tears to my eyes beneath the blindfold, yet the rest of my body is on fire wanting Him to continue, it’s the pleasure/pain theory in one stroke.

As soon as He sees that I’ve recovered from the shock of His blow He delivers another to the right nipple with the same effect; part of me wants to cry with pain and part wants to cry with desire. He continues like this; watching me all the time I am certain, I can feel His eyes on my face, ensuring that I’m loving it, ensuring that He doesn’t go too far and cause pain alone, waiting only briefly between each stroke to assess my reaction.

When He senses that I can’t take much more He pauses running the crop down my stomach slowly and between my legs, flicking it sideways to make me spread my legs wider. I hear Him breathe in deeply for a moment running the crop slowly and gently along my cunt; I can feel it sliding in my juices, spreading them from my arse to my clit, my hips moving involuntarily along the shaft.

He takes another breath in and begins to crop my clit hard; steady, fast, even strokes, the same force each time, hitting exactly the same spot. Within seconds I can’t think of anything except the sensations He’s causing, my clit is throbbing, my pulse pounding, my breath coming in jagged gasps until I come, my head back, pulling against my wrist restraints, my whole body stiffening with each wave of orgasm, feeling my cum running down my inner thighs. I stand before Him shaking and breathless, my body running with sweat, every inch of my skin alive.

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
Share this Story

Similar Stories

Finding Mr. Wright Ch. 01 I watch a late night movie that awakens an interest in BDSM.in BDSM
Unlocking My Inner Anal Slut Ch. 01 First look at Isabelle's and Jake's kinky relationship.in BDSM
The Prison Governor She is the sex slave of wardens at female prison.in BDSM
Nightmare Master Pt. 01 She always wished for the real thing... and then met him.in NonConsent/Reluctance
It's Always the Quiet Ones Pt. 01 A college girl writes stories about a Dom. And he finds out.in BDSM
More Stories