Primal Lust

Edited by cymbidia

CAUTION:

This story contains descriptions of physical abuse. If you are offended by fictional stories featuring this kind of topic please do not read this story.

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I sat, my face a passive wall of non-emotion, as she knelt obediently before me. Her eyes were downcast, fulfilling the complete submission promised by her posture. Her bare, unblemished breasts heaved with each ragged breath as she fought to subdue the raging desires I knew were consuming her. I reached down with a single hand and lightly stroked her silky black hair. At my touch I felt her quiver and the thrill of control shot like a hot bolt of lightning up my arm and into my chest.

"Stand" I commanded, my voice harsher than I had intended.

She stood instantly, her eyes riveted on the floor in front of me. Her soft hair fell about her down-turned head to gently veil her thin face as I inspected her; straight black hair, intense eyes, high cheek bones and full soft lips. Exquisite! No other word could describe this docile creature.

My eyes drifted down to her black velvet collar. Its single large diamond stud accented the pale elegance of her slender neck. It was the symbol of our relationship. I owned her and she was mine.

Continuing the inspection, I saw the cute freckles that dotted the creamy flesh of her breasts above her areola. I let my gaze linger on the exaggerated rise and fall of her dark puckered nipples as she breathed excitedly. I continued to explore her nude body with my eyes, studying her firm belly and wide hips, reveling in her splendor.

Her pubic hair was removed, leaving no distraction from her perfect form. She kept herself in excellent shape for me, working at it long hours while we were apart. It was her only job, besides pleasing me, and she did both extremely well. I let my eyes continue down past the treasure between her thighs and contemplated her legs. They were firm and smooth. Shaved bare with no flaws, they seemed to flow down through her knees to rounded full calves and dainty, graceful feet.

"Turn." My voice, more ragged than before, startled her and me alike.

She turned, slowly, knowing what I wanted from months of experience. She was a quick learner, a natural submissive, pliant and giving. She never hesitated or questioned, just obeyed, and my control over her gave me a heady sensation. She would do anything I asked. I knew because I had tested her repeatedly and she had only failed me once, just this once.

I admired her legs from the new angle, a better view of her strong calves, before I let my eyes travel up her body to the soft, full roundness of her creamy white derriere. A freckle at the small of her back drew my eyes up above her exquisite cheeks, and I considered its simplistic beauty for several seconds. Dark brown, nearly black, and perfectly round, it was a single small expression of contrast with the ivory white purity surrounding it.

My breath quickened and I began to feel disconnected from my emotions as I coolly studied my prized possession. I stood and walked around her, my heavy boots clunking loudly on the hard tile floor. She shivered ever so slightly and for the first time I noticed goose bumps on her arms and legs.

"Come." Not permission, a command, and she knew it from the edge in my voice. I strode from the cold room with its impersonal marble tile floor and high vaulted ceiling to a closer, warmer, and far more foreboding place.

My private playroom had wood floors, darker, softer, and warmer than the cold marble of the formal hall. Its walls were finished with a stone facade and fitted with implements of pleasure and pain. A pair of antique stocks sat unused near the center of the room in front of a large soft bed. I stopped in the middle of the room. She quickly took her place two steps behind me and waited while I surveyed my domain. It wasn't really necessary, since I knew each and every toy there by heart, but it was effective for my purposes. I pointedly let my gaze linger on several of the more painful contraptions that graced the walls before pointing to one of them lying on a display stand near the stocks.

The small flogger had eleven long thin strands of leather extending from one end of its leather wrapped handle. Each leather strand ended in a small pellet of lead encased in a velvet pouch. I had never used this particular implement before. It had always been for show, an object of curiosity and threat only.

"Get it." She acted without hesitation, moving silently with a catlike grace to retrieve the flogger. She held it out to me with both hands, submissively bowing her head as she did.

"Kneel." I felt myself becoming more disconnected from the scene, separated from the softer emotions that kept me linked to mundane reality. My already rapid breathing became ragged, and my focus narrowed to her, only her.

She dropped to her knees in front of me. A soft sob forced itself from between her lips before she recovered and regained her silence.

"Failure is rewarded with pain." I said, fighting to control the deep disappointment in my voice. Anger and pride, love and dismay flowed through my veins, a torrent of conflicting emotions both hotter than blood and colder than ice, but I knew them only as a dispassionate viewer. My world consisted only of her.

"You failed me." My voice held an acid tenor I had not intended, and it broke through her stoic silence.

She sobbed openly then, weeping in sorrow, but she did not beg for mercy. Instead she leaned forward and arched her back, wordlessly presenting her flesh in atonement. I raised the flogger and let its weighted ends drag softly from the rounded cleft of her soft bottom up over the small of her back and across her shoulders. My body tightened in reaction to her loveliness and an animalistic growl issued from between my lips.

"Do you have an explanation?" I heard her answer in her thoughts before she spoke. I saw her response before she acted, as if it were being played on a mental screen inside my head. I continued to play the ends of the flogger over her skin as she spoke, my arousal merging with the fury of emotion swelling within me.

"Master, I failed you and I cannot tell you how sorry I am for that. I deserve punishment. I beg you to cleanse me of my failure. Free us both of my wrongdoing, Master, please, so we can go on as before." Sobs shook her body and tears sprang from her down-turned eyes.

I waited silently, watching. I knew I must correct her and a part of me longed for the act to come, but I never hurried the inevitable. Eventually, her emotional storm subsided and she regained her composure, peeking up at me only once before reassuming her submissively quiet posture.

I could not punish her with the implement in my hand. It would be too cruel, too vicious. I shook a little as I brushed it over her exposed back once more and then hooked it into my belt and let it hang by my side.

"Stand." I moved to open the stocks, turning to gesture her into them. When I saw the look of fear in her eyes, I almost stopped, but she had failed me and for that she must be punished. We both knew it.

"Come." The word tore at my soul as I watched the beautiful creature that I loved move forward and willingly place herself in the stocks, trusting and vulnerable. I lowered the heavy plank over her wrists and neck, carefully avoiding the sacred band of velvet as I securely locked the plank in place. I moved around her, inspecting her position and touching her soft skin. Lifting the flogger from my belt I caressed her body with its trailing ends, shoulder to lovely bottom.

Even as detached as I was, I wouldn't use the flogger as its makers intended. Not on my love, no matter how serious her wrongdoing. I reversed my grip, extending the leather bound handle and lightly brushing it along the inside of her thighs, just above her knees.

"Spread your legs." The growl that came from my throat demanded instant obedience. She gave it to me, immediately spreading her legs and exposing her nude sex.

I lifted the flogger, sliding it upward along her tender inner flesh until it touched her pouting nether lips. They spread out over the handle, taking it between them as if by conscious choice. The flogger slid into her and I heard her gasp with abandoned lust.

My empty hand struck her soft bottom so hard that it burned into my forearm and drove her soft shoulders into the hard wood of the stocks. I had not even known I was going to spank her and the impact shocked me as much as it did her. I heard her scream and then she begged me hoarsely to spank her again. Mechanically my hand struck her other cheek. I watched the two handprints go from stark white to a stinging red as I fed another inch of the flogger into her convulsing body.

"Master, punish me now. I beg you, please, I deserve your punishment! Correct me, make me worthy of your love once more." She was pleading for punishment, tears streaming down her face, but her body told of the intense arousal she felt.

"Did I say you could talk, bitch?" The severity of my primal growl startled me and quieted her instantly. We were feeding on each other’s energy, like two soaring eagles locked together in lovemaking and plummeting recklessly toward our deaths.

I shoved the handle two more inches into her body and began to fuck her roughly. I had never treated her so brutally but it was clear that she loved it. The proof was there, between her legs, running in slippery rivers down her thighs. Before she could orgasm I ripped the handle from her and inspected the soaked leather. She moaned and moved her body wantonly, begging wordlessly for more, but I ignored her need.

Her scent on the whip was intoxicating and I was trembling with arousal as I stepped around the side of the stocks and presented the handle to her mouth.

"Lick it." Her tongue flicked out and tasted her own fluids drenching the ominous weapon I held. "Do you like it slut?"

She groaned, her answer a long low breath of need. "Yes Master, I like the way I taste. I love everything you do to me, everything you want me to do, Master."

I could tell that her awkward position in the stocks with her legs spread wide was causing her distress, but she controlled it admirably. A corner of my heart was demanding that I release her, cuddle her, love her, but my obligation as her Master denied me that sweet relief.

"What do you think you deserve for your failure? Should we simply forget it?"

She stilled and her head drooped. "Oh Master, I beg your punishment. Whip me, if you must. Beat me. I failed you badly, failed us both, and must be punished to cleanse myself for you."

Her pleading fed my icy detachment and my soul rose into the air above my body and hers. It wasn't a true out of body experience, but almost. I took position behind and to the right of her vulnerable ass, watching my own actions as if I were a spectator at a macabre play. My hand drew back; I knew I was going to flog her, viciously, cruelly. The flogger came down and I saw horrible red welts rise on her flawless skin. Again and again the flogger rose and descended and I felt...nothing.

My body soared and rejoiced as power flowed through my arm and collected, throbbing and pulsing, in my body's center. But my heart screamed in outrage at my actions, ripping through my mind's indifference and forcing me back from the black edge of damnation. I wrenched control of my body back from the animal I had become and threw the flogger violently to the side.

Blood dripped from small cuts on my precious angels back and bottom but I couldn't attend her just then. A war was going on inside me, and my soul and her life were at stake. I couldn't lose this war, for her sake, for my sake.

Long minutes passed before I once again had the animal inside me caged securely. The woman I loved was sobbing quietly within the cruel embrace of the rough wooden stocks, her hips swinging above weak and unsteady legs.

Quickly releasing her, I pulled her into my arms and held her close, loving her, comforting her. I soon realized she had more pressing needs. Her kisses became passionate and her hands wandered and stroked my body with abandon. I led her to the bed, kissing and touching her tenderly. As gently as I could I tended to the surface cuts and terrible red welts I'd inflicted upon her milky skin and then I pulled her close. I gave her the release she needed, filling her with my seed and bringing her to shuddering climax again and again.

When we were both exhausted we lay holding each other, whispering sweet devotions and basking in our love. We stayed that way for a long time, making love and re-forging the bond that bound us together so tightly.

I have never gone that far again. I never will. Yet it was the most animalisticly erotic experience I have ever had. Those few minutes of wild abandon brought us close in a way I don't fully understand. She believes in me, trusts me. She says she knows I will never really hurt her.

I am not so sure. The animal inside me will always be there, haunting me with the sure knowledge that I might have lost the war that day. If I had, what would have happened? It's not something I can easily think about. It's not something I will ever stop thinking of.