She kneels patiently, naked; her wrists cuffed behind her back. With her head bowed as instructed, she feels the drool collect in her mouth and does her best to swallow it back but to no avail. He stands in front of her just watching her fight her submission, knowing how hard she finds the anticipation, but smiling internally at how wet he knows it makes her. A tendril of saliva leaks from the corner of her mouth and pools on the floor in front of her and she flushes bright red, hating that she is reduced to this for him. Hating the smug expression she knows is on his face as he wordless watches his girl - his pet - struggle through this embarrassment for no other reason than because he felt like it. Finally he speaks, his words startling her after the prolonged silence that has gone before.
"Look at the mess you're making on my floor, pet."
A whimper escapes her throat, already thick with lust and arousal. He reaches forward and grabs a fistfull of hair yanking her head up painfully before shoving it back down roughly so her eyeline is fixed on the puddle she has made on the floor.
"Just LOOK at it, slut. What sort of a girl makes a mess like that?"
She moans into her gag by way of response, although she knows that it was a rhetorical question. Not that he would have been able to understand her incoherent whimperings anyway.
"A slut, that's who. A filthy little whore. MY filthy little whore. Isn't that right, Pet?"
She nods, tears of humiliation pricking her eyes as the fist in her hair twists cruelly around the roots to emphasise the final word in his sentence.
"Good girl. Now, can you tell me what filthy little whores like to do best?"
He releases her hair and she falls back to her heels, again whimpering at both the pain searing through her scalp, and the humiliation that being degraded like this causes her. She tries to speak but the gag muffles any coherent sounds. He leans in to her and roughly places a hand on her exposed throat as he whispers "I didn't quite catch that, Pet..."
She gives up any pretence of trying to form sentences and just groans at him, her eyes now staring fixedly into his as she tries to communicate through the medium of telepathy, wordlessly begging him to touch her, use her, pleasure himself using her body, fill her, fuck her... something - ANYTHING - but this prolonged anticipation.
"You want to fuck? Is that it? Are you trying to tell me that you need to be filled? Is that what dirty little sluts like?" he asks, again rhetorically. She moans and nods. "Well Pet, today I have a surprise for you. You WILL fuck, and you WILL come, and you will love every filthy fucking minute of it. Is that clear?"
As if he needed to tell her to enjoy it! She nods in earnest as he moves a hand to her exposed breast, pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers. Another whimper - God she loves how he touches her.
"Stand up."
He helps her to her feet, and walks her over to dining room where he lifts her up onto his large mahogany table. He pushes her knees wide and stares openly at her cunt, now saturated with a desperate need. He moves his hand down and touches her gently, before thrusting two fingers roughly inside her, eliciting a grunt as her hips rotate up to meet his hand. He fucks her for just a few short seconds before removing his fingers, now drenched in her juices, causing her to whimper with frustration.
"Soon Pet. Soon."
He lifts his fingers to her face and smears her wetness across her cheek before wiping them under her nose so that she can't help but to smell herself.
"Slut."
She grunts in reply, still frustrated and desperately aroused, as he walks around her and pushes her down against the table. He lifts her arms above her head and secures them there before moving back between her legs. He takes her left ankle and secures it to one of the legs of the table, then repeats this with the other. She struggles to test the restraints, and finding that she can genuinely not close her legs or free her wrists excited her all the more. He smiles down at her and begins to rub her cunt with the palm of his hand, dipping his fingers inside of her making her grunt and writhe as best she can as she tries fucking his fingers.
"Now, this surprise.... "
And suddenly everything stops. He walks toward her head and bends down to whisper into her ear. Tells her that she is a slut - HIS slut - and as such he is so proud of her that he can't defend keeping her all to himself...
His words shock her to the core and she finds herself thrashing about in her bonds and shouting out behind the gag as he continues explaining what is about to happen to her in terrifying detail.
"But before this happens Pet; before I allow you to be shown off as mine and whore yourself out to anyone I tell you to, you will submit to me completely by begging me to do this. To allow you to embrace the whore you are inside. If you do not beg me for this, I will do it anyway but I will let them use all your holes, and believe me they WILL use all of them. If you beg, I may be kinder to you."
She thrashes wildly around in her bonds, shaking her head violently as tears stream openly down her face and pool behind her neck. She does not want this. They had talked about it before but only in terms of fantasy; never anything solid. And now, bound naked to his table, legs spread open displaying her aching, soaked cunt for anyone and everyone to see, she realises too late that he has upped the ante. He whispers directly into her ear but she barely hears the soothing words, instead trying to make sense in her scrambled mind of what it was he had just told her. She is still writhing and sobbing, but is suddenly once again aware of her cunt and how much it aches for him. Surely it's more important to please him, than to cling desperately onto the idea that she isn't like this, that she doesn't secretly want this. Crave it. Need it.
She stops thrashing, unsure whether it's through sheer exhaustion or the beginning of her acceptance of his will, his desire. He reaches around her head and unbuckles her gag, removing it from her mouth. She lies still, eyes locked on his, hoping - praying - that he can read the terror and dismay that has totally overwhelmed her. Any moment now, she thinks, he will laugh and tell her that it was a joke, a test of her will. She looks deep into his eyes and waits, her breathing approaching something near normal once more, her struggling completely abating. Any minute now...
"That's better, Pet." he says calmly, not taking his eyes off hers, and, knowing how hard she finds being unable to communicate with him verbally, allows her permission to speak.
