More

She ties me in a chair, legs bound wide and fixed, mouth gagged. Cold, cruel clamps pinch and stretch my labia. My pussy, once pretty and neat, now gapes obscenely, my secret places exposed.

Fiery clips bite my nipples. They shake and pull as she strikes my breasts with the black leather crop. Stripes blossom on my soft, milky flesh.

"Are you suffering?" she asks, fixing my gaze with hers. I nod jerkily, my body beginning to betray me.

"More," she says simply and reaches down between my useless legs to grasp my swollen clit, no longer hidden and protected in the bed of my soft, sweet lips.

"More," she says and savagely twists my tender bud. I scream through the gag and she watches my eyes cloud with fear, then pain, and back to fear.

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I am bound again. My hands stretch between my legs to my ankles where a rope holds them fast. She has placed me on my knees. My face is pressed to the floor. My rump is high and helpless. I wait in darkness.

I feel her settle next to me. Her hand rests on my straining back. Moments pass and then I feel her warm breath on my neck. "I'm here," she says. "I'm here."

What will come? The whip? A paddle? I am scared of what she might do. Her control is complete.

Her fingers trail down between my cheeks and then suddenly they are in me. My pussy explodes, overwhelmed by the force of the penetration. More fingers, then her knuckles stretch my womb faster than I can adjust. I am full beyond bearing. Containing the pressure is impossible.

As quickly it entered, the hand is gone, leaving me gasping. My body has become a giant hole. Without pausing, she wipes her fingers on my anus, lubricating me with my own dew. Then I feel her penis, that is not a penis, pressing on my dark entrance. Insisting. Forcing. I bear down and try to open my passage to the invader. To avoid the pain, I yield to her.

I feel her hips against my ass. She fucks me slowly and thoroughly, until I have nothing left to give. Even then, she continues taking my limp and exhausted body. I am only a hole. I am only flesh. I am hers to take as she wills. She has proved it to both of us.

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It is a workday, but still I am hers. This morning, she fitted me with plugs and clamps. Only my loose dress hides her marks.

I sit in my morning meeting, struggling for control, but each shift of position drives a plug deeper. It is as if they speak for her. "We are not fooled. This body is no longer yours."

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We are eating dinner at a restaurant. We share a bench, her body trapping me in the booth. "May I please be excused?" I ask meekly. "I would like to use the restroom."

"No," she says, and turns back to her food.

I wait as long as I can while she lingers over her meal. My bladder is bursting, my body and mind completely overwhelmed by the pressure and pain.

Careful to keep my eyes downcast, I beg her in a whisper, "Please!"

She sits back and smiles, clearly enjoying my desperation. "No. Dessert first."

Finally, as I feel my muscles turning to liquid, she pays the check and eases out of the booth. I frantically slide by, much too insistently. I know I've displeased her, but I am beyond thought. I race to the parking lot, thinking only of home.

I am almost to the car when my sphincter gives way, drenching my pants. Tearfully, I wait in the darkness. At last she arrives to unlock the door, but first she stops and directs me to stand. There is no hiding my shame.

"Pants off," she says, opening the trunk, and waits for me to remove my sodden clothes. Then, naked below the waist, I walk to the passenger side and wait for her to unlock the door.

Arriving home, we walk together across the yard and through the front door, past caring whether the darkness hides my nakedness. Once inside, she settles into a chair and directs me to her side.

"Across my knees," she commands and I move into position. A final spark of resistance flares briefly and then fades as she spanks me like a child, methodically slapping my backside until I have surrendered completely. I have been broken. I no longer exist.

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The morning light finds two lovers entwined in white sheets. She takes me in her arms and gently brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Good morning, my love," she says softly. "Did I do it right? Was it what you wanted?"

I kiss her softly and move more deeply into her familiar embrace. "More," I whisper.