My stilettos click sharply on the hard stone slabs as I walk toward the ultramodern house. All glass and metal and sharp, clean lines, the house sits at the edge of a bluff overlooking the ocean below. The lush grounds belie the arid setting surrounding it, and a warm wind makes my skimpy mini dress cling to my thighs and hard nipples. When I reach the entry porch, I pause and take a moment to reflect on how I got here.
Years ago I had a lucrative career as a sexual submissive, and then later a dominatrix. When I married my husband I gave all that up, and our sex life since then has been beyond exciting. We explore the world of bondage, both together and with others, and all of our sessions are satisfying. But a small part of me is still addicted to the thrill of being dominated and controlled by strangers without my husband present, a dark desire felt deep in the core of my being. There is a trusted website I use to satisfy this urge, and I reached out a few days ago to arrange this session. Now I am standing here, alone and barely dressed, and I feel my heart begin to race.
As instructed, I reach into my bag and pull out the blindfold, a black sleeping mask. Fitting it over my eyes until the world goes dark, I take a deep breath and reach for the doorbell. I hear the sound of heels approaching from inside, then the door opens and I wait, my heart still pounding in my chest.
"Hold out your hands." Her voice is throaty and demanding.
When I do, the padded handcuffs click shut around my wrists. The woman pulls me inside, then guides me to a set of stairs and holds onto me as we go up the steps. At the top we move around a corner, and I hear her open a door. I feel a breeze as we move into the room, but I perceive no light through the blindfold. She guides me a few steps forward, then stops.
"You are my slave. You will do everything I say, and you will not speak unless I ask you a question. Do you understand?"
"Yes mistress," I whisper. A shiver passes through my body.
"Kneel here."
She helps me onto a low padded stool, and I settle upright on my knees with my legs slightly apart. She pulls my bound hands high above my head and fastens the cuffs, my arms stretched straight up, the dress riding high up my bare thighs. The position is not uncomfortable, but I am acutely aware of how vulnerable and exposed my body is, and I shiver again. I already feel the excitement building somewhere deep in my groin, and I lick my lips and try and stifle a moan.
I wait for her to touch me somewhere, but I only hear her move about the room. Perhaps she is readying the toys she will use on me. The cool breeze causes my nipples to pucker and tighten, and I feel goosebumps on my skin. I take slow and steady breaths to calm my nerves.
As soon as I sense the domme in front of me, I feel her fingers on my legs. She strokes my thigh with both hands, up and down, slowly, almost lovingly. Then she moves to the other leg and does the same, touching my skin with feather light caresses. When her hands move to the ties at my thong, I think she is going to take it off, but her hands continue up my body under the dress, stroking my sides, my ribs, my lower back. She cups my breasts tenderly, fingering the hard nipples, and I luxuriate in her tender touch. When she reaches down with one hand and cups my thong, I push into her, a small gasp escaping my lips.
Then she is untying the thin straps holding up my dress. She reaches up and strokes my upraised arms before slowly pulling the dress down over my breasts and past my hips. When it falls to my knees I raise them just enough for her to pull the dress over my outstretched calves and heels. Then she removes my shoes and runs her fingers along the bottoms of my feet, and I am conscious of how totally helpless I am.
Her hands move back to the thong, but instead of removing it she tugs the strings up so that it is tight against my already wet pussy and deep into my ass crack. When she touches my clit through the thin fabric my mouth opens and my breathing quickens. Her finger quickly slides inside the thong and rubs my slippery bud, and I start to pant, almost cumming on the spot. She continues to finger me, my body moving in tune with her strokes, close to the edge, the orgasm rising inexorably. Just as I am about to cum she pulls her hand away, and I groan softly.
"Not yet, slave." The menace in her voice is palpable.
I listen to her move around the room again, and I am suddenly filled with trepidation. I try and prepare for the pain I know will come, but the blow to the bottom of my foot catches me off guard. I scream, and scream again when the other foot is whipped. Then she repeatedly smacks my ass cheeks, first one, then the other, and I grit my teeth as I try and settle into the rhythm of the blows. But the domme brings the crop down on the soles of my feet again, and I cry out in agony at the searing pain, like nothing I have ever felt before. I gasp and try and catch my breath, but all I can do is moan.
Then I feel her move the crop slowly around my breasts, touching them lightly, the teasing a cruel prelude to the torment I am sure will follow. I squeeze my eyes shut behind the blindfold as the domme begins to slap the crop against my breasts. Her touch is measured, calculated, and she avoids the nipples at first, but still I find it hard to breathe. There is a long pause, and I steel myself for the blows to come. And then she slaps the crop against my erect nipples, slowly and softly at first, then faster and harder, blow after blow, the pain piling up in waves, intense and excruciating.
But just as I start to slide into subspace, the blows stop, and I feel one hand on my ass and the other down inside my thong again. The domme pushes two fingers into my wet hole and finger fucks me while rubbing my clit with the heel of her thumb. The searing pain in my nipples quickly subsides to a dull ache as the pleasure in my pussy takes over, and I push against her hand. I expect to be edged again, but she keeps stroking my clit with her thumb and my arousal continues to build. Then she pulls her fingers out of my pussy and fingers my needy bud, stroking it hard and fast, covering it with my juices. My mouth opens wide, and I barely have time to pant before the orgasm comes on me with a rush. I cry out again and again, my body shaking as intense waves of pleasure wash through me. I can't believe how quickly she has made me cum.
As my body calms I feel her untie the strings of the thong, and before I know it she roughly shoves it into my mouth. It is sopping wet and I try not to gag, but fear once again niggles at the corners of my consciousness.
Then she removes the blindfold, and I blink into the sudden light. When my eyes adjust, I am looking out a wall of glass to the ocean beyond. Open windows on the sidewalls let in a breeze tinged with the smell of salt. When I tilt my head up I see a huge wooden beam running across the room, with a metal hook at the center securing my handcuffs. I glance down and see the small round stool that I am kneeling on.
I am gazing out the window and trying to steady my breathing when the domme walks into my view. She is stunning. Her dark brown eyes and full lips are framed by the long black hair which hangs down and covers her bare breasts. A red corset wraps her waist and sets off her bare pussy below. Her long slender legs end in shiny black boots which come up to her knees. But as beautiful as she is, I can only stare at the short whip in her right hand, and I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper.
I hear her heels click on the hard floor as she moves in front of me.
"Open your eyes and spread those beautiful legs of yours."
I groan and move my knees farther apart. When I open my eyes she stares back at me with a grin. I flinch when she touches the whip to my dripping pussy, stroking my lips lightly with the cold leather. Then she caresses my poor abused nipples the same way, and I shudder. The fear I feel is mixed with the ripple of excitement that flickers somewhere deep inside me, my need a raw ache that I can't deny.
And then she flicks the whip repeatedly against the inside of my thigh, and I yell past the thong in my mouth. She looks into my eyes, then swings the whip even harder against my other thigh. I grit my teeth and moan, the pain sudden and sharp. Then she moves out of my view, and I try and prepare for what comes next. The next strike comes on my ass, then another and another, the lashes raining down. Before I can settle into the rhythm, there is a pause, and then she is whipping the backs of my thighs, first one, then the other. When she brings the whip down on my bare back, I groan, my breath ragged. She continues to whip me everywhere, alternating between ass and legs and back. My body is on fire, and I slump in my bonds and sink into the pain.
When she pauses again I think it is over, but then she whips the sole of each foot once, and I scream at the excruciating pain. Once again my mind begins to disassociate from my poor tortured body, but then I am dimly aware of her back in front of me. I look at her with frightened half-closed eyes.
She kneels next to the bench, her long dark hair mostly covering her face inches from my pussy. She reaches around and grabs my ass, pulling me to her. When she starts to lick my juices and nibble on my pussy lips, I groan loudly and push into her. Her hands come up, holding my thighs apart, then she pushes three fingers deep into my sopping cunt. I groan again, my body overwhelmed by the whiplash of pain and pleasure I am experiencing. Her tongue moves to my swollen clit, her fingers still in me, and the orgasm wells up inside me. She licks me up and down, then side to side, and I start to pant and shake. When she digs her fingernails deep into my sore ass and circles my slippery bud with her tongue, hard and fast, I am quickly over the edge, screaming and shaking, my body once again out of control.
When I finally stop cumming and look down, she smiles up at me demurely, then stands and pulls the thong out of my mouth. She moves out of my view and I gaze at the ocean through the window, my breathing still ragged, my body trembling. When she walks back in front of me, she holds the nipple clamps close to my face.
"Have you had your nipples clamped before?"
"Yes," I whisper.
"Did you enjoy it?"
"No," I answer, then hesitate. She looks closely at me.
"Well, I am definitely going to enjoy it."
I squeeze my eyes shut as she clamps first one nipple, then the other. The sudden pain shoots straight to my groin, and I moan loudly. The clover clamps are connected by a short chain, and when she tugs on the chain the clamps bite harder into my already sore nubs. She reaches down with one hand and briefly strokes my clit while pulling on the chain with the other, teasing and tormenting me. The simultaneous sensations are almost too much to bear, and I'm not sure how much more I can take. My safe word floats at the edge of my mind.
