Submission & Connection
You're standing.
Back to the door. Ankles slightly apart. Wrists cuffed behind you. Blindfolded. A snug plastic chastity cage locked around your cock. Inside you, a vibrating, rotating prostate toy pulses gently--its curved head rolling and pressing against you in slow, steady waves. The sensation is deep. Rhythmic. Designed to make you squirm. The remote lies nearby, waiting for her. Over your ears: noise-canceling headphones. You hear nothing. Just your breath.
You don't know when she'll enter.
You don't know how long you've been waiting.
But you feel it when she does.
A gentle brush of her hand glides across your left shoulder--warm, slow, and unmistakably hers.
Then--
CRACK. CRACK.
Two fast, sharp strikes of the crop land across your ass. Quick. Decisive. You yelp, your whole body flinching.
Her voice lands cool and measured:
"Enough of that noise."
Then, firmly:
"Open your mouth."
You obey without hesitation.
She fits the red ball gag into place. It fills your mouth completely. Her fingers pull the straps tight behind your head, cinching it as tight as it can go. The gag is silent and merciless.
Then--SLAP.
A sharp, deliberate strike across your cheek. Not rage--control. It stills you. Grounds you.
She studies your reaction. Then moves on.
She removes the headphones.
Silence is replaced by tension. Footsteps. Breathing. Presence.
She takes a breath. This doesn't come naturally to her. But she's here. For you. Because she knows--this isn't just kink. This is need.
She walks behind you and fits the collar around your throat. Thick leather. Heavy. She threads the strap through and pulls it snug before buckling it with a click.
She picks up the remote. A single click.
The toy inside you hums harder--then begins to rotate.
It pushes in waves against your prostate. A steady rhythm. Not harsh, just constant. Deep and deliberate.
She watches your body sway slightly, responding to the stimulation.
Then she moves to your chest.
She takes the screw-type nipple suckers--hard plastic cylinders with threaded tops--and places one over each nipple. She tightens them carefully, evenly.
She tightens them until your nipples swell and throb beneath the pressure.
Then she tugs. You groan behind the gag.
When she removes them, it's like fire rushing back through your nerves.
Then--clamps.
She fastens the metal tips onto your engorged nipples. Then adds the weights.
She taps them lightly with the crop.
Tap. Tap.
They sway.
You tense as the motion tugs painfully at already sensitive skin.
She's watching.
Then--vibrator.
She presses it against the front of your chastity cage. The buzzing radiates inward. Dull, muffled, maddening.
You start to climb.
But she's not finished with you.
She moves the vibrator in slow circles, hitting different points. Just when your breath catches--she lifts it away.
Waits.
Then puts it back. Faster. Firmer.
Your legs are shaking. Shoulders tight. Your body is begging--but there's no release.
She whispers, "No."
Then presses it harder.
You moan.
CRACK.
She strikes you again with the crop.
CRACK. Vibrate. CRACK. Vibrate.
Your hips twitch forward with every surge of pleasure--until the vibrator vanishes again.
The silence after is maddening.
You try to catch your breath, but the anticipation builds faster than your recovery.
She turns the vibrator back on--slower this time.
And starts again.
You edge once... twice... three times. Your body begging each time to be allowed release. Your mind blank but for sensation. The denial digs deep now--not just physical, but emotional. It's submission in its rawest form.
And finally--
She stops.
Then, with no words, she reaches out and takes the front D-ring of your collar.
You feel the tug.
She leads you to the bed that way--slowly, firmly, the leather pulling against your throat, guiding you forward until she halts you.
"Get on the bed. Face down. Ass up."
Still blindfolded, you follow. Knees spread. Chest down. Ready.
You feel her hands at your backside.
A shift. A pressure.
She slowly removes the prostate toy from inside you.
Then--cold lube.
And the black-handled dildo pressed gently at your entrance.
"Good boy," she says.
She eases it in--then pulls it out. Again. And again. Each time stretching you just a little more.
It's long--nine inches--and thick enough to challenge you, but smooth. You can feel its full length moving inside you.
Then--all at once--she slams it to the hilt.
You jolt. Body clenched. It's deep. Full. Overwhelming.
