You tell me to stand still in front of you; the thick, black rope is in your hands. You proceed to roughly, wind the rope round both my breasts, pulling it tightly until they ache and are left standing to attention in front of me. The handcuffs jingle as you secure my hands behind my back. The order to kneel on the bed can only be obeyed and I desperately wiggle into position, the lack of hands hindering my process slightly, making you impatient. You push my shoulders down forcing my head onto the pillows and I raise my bottom instinctively, spreading my legs open at the same time; I know by now what is expected of me and what is next to come.
You force your fingers into my anus and I groan with the heady erotic feeling as you stretch me wide open and ready for your entry. I can feel your cock as it pushes it way, deep inside me, stretching me further. When it is fully inserted, you stop and slap my arse, hard.
"You better not dare to come!" You growl.
I answer with a whimper, "I won't Sir."
Taking up the slack from the breast bondage, you start to pump your cock viciously hard and fast into my arse, riding me like a naked slavish pony. The rope pulls at my breasts, scraping my tender, engorged nipples across the sheets.
"Fuck me, you dirty slut," You shout.
I start to push my arse onto your cock, as you pull at the ropes controlling the rhythm. The ropes tighten round my breasts further, making me cry out with combined pleasure and pain. Suddenly, you let go of the ropes and yank my head up by my hair. White, hot pain shoots through my scalp as you lift me up to whisper in my ear,
"What are you?" You ask.
"I am your dirty whore and slut Sir."
Satisfied, you release me and withdraw your cock from my arse. I am now positioned on knees with my back against the cool wall; you are holding me up by one hand tangled in my hair, and slapping one of my tied breasts with the other. The red, hot pain that surges through my breast makes me swoon and you pull my head back up with my hair. You swap over and start to rhythmically slap my other breast. The pain begins to diminish as I start to float away into the blackness.
My mantra plays in my head, "Please my Master, please my Master."
I am fully aware that this is an exercise in obedience and punishment for my bad attitude with you earlier. My head flops forward onto your chest when you let my hair go and I ache for the cuddle of reassurance. You give me a brief embrace and then instruct me to lie down my back. Even though I long for a more substantial cuddle, I silently obey.