Vignettes of Sir's Toy

This story contains: captivity, maledom x femsub, breath play/drowning, noncon/dubcon, edging, denial, very light blood, pitch darkness, bondage, implied brainwashing/dehumanization, nonconsensual drugging, public sex/lack of privacy, and pleasure-pain.

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Sir's cock pounded into his toy's pussy. The toy was pressed up against the cool glass of the window, her stomach twisting at the thought that anyone could look up at any time and see her drooling onto the glass while she was split open on Sir's cock. But Sir's toy knew resistance against him was futile, and that her body would always be on display for anyone Sir wished. And with the friction and the pounding and the cold of the glass against her hot skin, that knot in her belly was curling deeper into burning arousal as Sir drove into his toy harder.

Sir's toy was being stretched at a painful angle from behind, Sir's cock sliding deep and hard into his toy's cervix. Sir's toy ground back into Sir anyways, knowing what was expected of her and not wanting to see Sir's anger. Even so, the toy's desire coursed through her body, each stabbing thrust driving her higher into need and desperation. Forgetting her resolve to please, Sir's toy let out a little gasp, causing Sir to reach around and pinch his toy's nipples hard, and then lift her breasts to mash them into the icy window.

Sir's toy was beginning to clench and writhe around Sir's cock. A rush of pleasure made her forget the window and the street, and even one of Sir's hands closing firmly around his toy's neck and the other digging into her clit barely registered against the overarching desire. Sir's toy was panting and whining deliriously, when Sir pulled out suddenly and sprayed his toy's ass and the window with cum as she sagged against it, shaking with the pressure of an unreleased orgasm. Then, Sir took his quivering toy by the hair and held her down against the glass to clean it off.

***

Sir kept his toy in a large, open suite ringed with walls of windows. These held hundreds of diamond panes of clear, smooth glass kept together in a web of metal grille. If the panes had opened, Sir's toy would have been able to fit little more than an arm or leg through. They did not open.

The windows looked down on the streets below, but not so far down that someone on the ground couldn't look up and see Sir's toy easily in any place in the room. If Sir's toy wanted the small comfort of a solid wall at her back, she could perhaps huddle in the bathtub next to the windows in the little tiled bathing alcove in the corner. This held the tub, a sink, a toilet and shower. Two of the walls were the same uncovered windows to the street, and the third a divider of solid glass that kept water from splashing into the rest of the room. Through it, Sir's toy would be visible from anywhere in the room as she bathed.

Behind the fourth, solid wall, was a second alcove. Sir's toy could have sat in here as well, if she wanted to. But she did not want to. This alcove had unfinished brick on two sides, and a cold concrete floor. An enormous wooden X lay against the back wall, and all manner of shackles and hooks and chain studded the bricks. Here were displayed whips and paddles and ropes and benches and all of Sir's favorite tools for punishment and pain. The third wall-- the same wall of windows as everywhere else-- here had a kind of heavy shade that Sir's toy could neither see, nor have reached if she did see it, but which Sir could roll down with a remote if he wished to leave his toy in pitch darkness. The fourth wall was a thick curtain that separated the punishment room from the rest of the suite.

At night, Sir's toy could feel that curtain hanging only feet from where she slept. Even closed, it did not hide from her mind the terrible knowledge of all the things behind it. And all day, no matter what she did or where she went in the room, Sir's toy could not escape that curtain's red gaze on her back, always.

***

Sir's toy burned awake from sleep with Sir's cock searing into her unprepared pussy. It was dark, but the smell of Sir's musk and the feel of his hands on his toy's body were unmistakable. Sir's toy had cried out, as she often did when she was awoken this way, and Sir responded by leaning forward to bite down on his toy's tender nipple. This made Sir's toy want to scream again, but she fought to hold it in as the sensation bloomed into pain and pleasure across her torso.

Sir took his toy simply and firmly, without ceremony. Sweat pooled around them into the bedsheets, and the sound of their bodies thumping together mingled with the soft creaking of the bed frame against Sir's immense force. Sir's toy felt moisture start to spread between her legs as her body groggily responded to Sir's fervent thrusting. As warm delight spread up her body, Sir's toy began to clench rythmically around Sir, craving more sensation and pleasure.

Finally, Sir allowed his toy come on his cock in a quick, short burst of warmth that spread over her pelvis, before unloading his own orgasm into her pussy and collapsing heavily on top of his toy. Sir's toy drifted contentedly back to sleep under the crushing weight and overpowering scent of Sir's chest on top of her. The toy awoke hours later, alone, with Sir's cum dried between her legs.

***

Even without the curtain that lingered on the edges of her consciousness, everything in the room was carefully designed for Sir's use, and a constant reminder to his toy that she would be used as he pleased.

The bed had tall, decorative posts at every corner to which rope could be easily affixed. Next to the bed was a chest of cushions and blankets to be laid on the floor if Sir wished to use his toy in positions that were difficult on the bed, or if he simply wanted to see his toy writhing on the floor. The couch was a one-armed chaise so Sir's toy could be bent and fucked in many positions-- over the arm or the sloped back, or laid across the open end-- and the coffee table was sturdy enough for a body to be tied down on.

In one corner a hammock hung suspended from a bar, which looked decorative enough but for which Sir could devise all kinds of devilish uses. Even the chair at the little dining table had removable cushions and patterns of holes in woven into the seat, through which could be fed all sorts of dildos or vibrators or plugs. Some days Sir's toy would wake to find a new arrangement affixed to the chair and know that she was expected to sit on it for her meals. She had learned quickly that Sir would always know if his toy ate elsewhere, or refused to eat.

The room must have been cleaned and arranged while Sir's toy slept. She had wondered, in the beginning, if there were not often drugs in her food. Sir's toy would sleep at odd times, and heavily, but dreaming restlessly of Sir's cock or the red curtain or her wet pussy. And small things in the room would change or move about while she slept, without her waking.

Except for exactly two occasions when Sir had brought a guest, Sir's toy saw no one but Sir; and the little people on the street below. Sometimes, she forgot there was anyone else in the world besides Sir. And sometimes, when Sir would disappear for long stretches, Sir's toy forgot there was anyone in the world at all.

***

Warm water swirled between Sir's toy's thighs in the bathtub. Sir leaned over her, running up and down his toy's body with a washcloth. When the roughness of the cloth grazed over the toy's nipples or between her legs, she couldn't help but twitch up towards Sir's touch, mewling. Sir had been gone for days and days and his toy had been on edge the entire time, longing for release at his hands or in his mouth or on his cock. Now, Sir's toy was so sensitive her whole body thrummed with every touch. Forgetting everything but the desire, Sir's toy arched and tipped her head back. But Sir only gave a low chuckle and caught her head with a gentle hand, caressing along the back of his toy's neck while he took her parted lips in his own.

Finished with the washcloth, Sir lifted his toy out of the bath as delicately as if she were made of the glass that surrounded them. Sir's toy felt weightless in his arms and leaned giddily into him, forgetting that she dripped water onto his chest.

Sir toweled his toy off carefully, paying special attention to her breasts and ass and pussy and thighs. His every touch sent tingles up and down a burning line from his toy's chest to her clit. Sir's toy gasped and swayed, leaning against Sir to stay upright. He caught her carefully, and lifted her again, carrying her across the room to the bed.

***

Sir liked his toy needy and wet, and forbade her from cumming without his permission. He would always know if she had, or if she had even gotten close. Sir's toy would have once thought that she could never be distracted from her predicament by desire, captive as she was. But quickly, the toy had come to be constantly desperate and on the edge, and in Sir's absence she had little to do but sit, dripping, in different places in the room and think about her hard nipples or Sir's hard cock, or her wet pussy, or the bite of the tools in the punishment room, or any of the number of things Sir could do to his toy when he returned.

Sir's toy was never permitted leave the room on her own. Very occasionally, the toy had been blindfolded and taken to be used in Sir's own bedroom; or a few times, in rooms she never even saw through the blindfold. On the rare times she had been kept for the night in Sir's room, Sir's toy had slept naked on the floor beside his bed. Sometimes the toy slept on the floor in the usual room as well, if Sir wanted to sleep in the bed there and use his toy in the morning. If Sir ever wished to share a bed with his toy, it was never his own. But Sir's toy had on occasion been allowed to sleep with him in the usual bed, bound next to Sir or crushed in his arms.

It was these occasions that made Sir's toy sure she must be drugged at other times. Because in Sir's presence the toy could never sleep but only only toss and turn on the floor, or lie awake with Sir's cock against her ass or sliding between her legs, for hours and hours until finally she was fucked awake from the eventual, inevitable exhaustion by Sir for his use in the morning.

***

On the bed, Sir lifted his toy's legs back and up over his forearms. Sir's toy was trembling with need; after days alone without coming, and then Sir's teasing ministrations in the bath.

Teasing more, Sir began to trace up the inside of his toy's thigh with his teeth. Sir's toy felt him move achingly slowly towards her swollen pussy until she thought she would burst. Then, finally, he attacked his toy's pussy with his lips and tongue, sucking so fiercely that the toy's vision exploded into white. Sir's toy gripped him with her legs as she burst into the orgasm that had been building for days. It lasted for minutes, fireworks lighting behind her eyes as Sir's toy squealed and shook.

When it was finished, and she was achingly sensitive, Sir never took his lips off his toy, making her come violently again and again until Sir's toy lost consciousness, bucking into the sheets.

***

There was no closet or clothing in the room where Sir's toy was kept. Chests and drawers held only Sir's collections of dildos and vibrators, or canes and whips, or lubricants and creams and other things for Sir's use. There was a little tray in the shower area with soaps and scents for Sir's toy to bathe with. And candles sat on every surface for Sir to light and use on or in his toy's body. But Sir's toy was Sir's possession and had no possessions of her own.

In the mornings-- or whenever it was that Sir's toy awoke-- there would be fresh clothing hanging on the back of the door. Mostly, Sir's toy wore only a light, see-through shift. But sometimes there was nothing but lingerie, or a harness, and once or twice there had been the extraordinary luxury of a robe or a little dress. Sometimes there was nothing at all, and then Sir's toy would spend the day aware of every brush of air or fabric against her pussy and nipples.

It was impossible to predict by this whether Sir would appear or not, to see his toy in the clothes he had provided. Sometimes, Sir's toy would spend hours bound up in an elaborate harness-- even one that kept her stuffed with plugs or toys-- only for Sir never to appear. Other times she would be wearing one of the usual shifts and Sir would charge in to tear it off of his toy.

Sir was like this, sometimes using his toy almost constantly, several times a day, every day, even for hours on end. Other times, Sir would vanish for huge stretches, leaving his toy to sleep restlessly and to grow and grow in her need. Even Sir's presence was not necessarily a guarantee of relief: sometimes he would torment his toy's body and then leave her in desperation without release. Sir's toy was his to use and he did so as he pleased.

***

The concrete of the punishment room floor bit cruelly into the knees of Sir's toy. The toy's ankles were bound up against her thighs so her knees bore most of her weight. The rest of the toy's body was bent over a low beam like a tiny sawhorse that pressed into her ribcage behind her breasts, pushing them forward sp they bulged against the stinging rows of clothespins that stood out from the tender flesh of her nipples and chest. The toy's arms were bound behind her back and hung taut from the ceiling, burning her shoulders and elbows but keeping her body steady.

Sir had caned his toy so hard tonight that blood spots prickled on her cheeks, and the toy's bound heels dug into the welted flesh of her ass mercilessly. Tears and sweat and cane marks streaked her body. An enormous, rock-hard dildo stretched her pussy to the point of splitting pain, and a second stretched her ass.

Sir's toy could no longer remember if she was being punished, or if Sir had simply wanted or needed to hurt his toy for his own reasons. Sometimes she never found out. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was Sir and the toy was his toy and she would take whatever pain he gave her because she was his toy and she was there to be used by him.

Then she remembered nothing at all, as Sir peeled the clothespins off in lines of blinding pain; and then a vibrator taped across her clitoris rumbled to life just low enough that Sir knew his toy would never come; and then there was only pitch darkness and the interminable torment of pussy and knees and shoulders and wrists and breasts and ass.

After a time that could have been minutes or hours or a day, the vibrations stopped and the toy felt Sir's gentle hand on her back. And then she wept with joy and love that her Sir had been there the whole time, even through the darkness and the pain and the punishment and the torment, to watch his toy and keep her safe.

***

The faucets in the little bathing room had no temperature controls. Most of the time the water was comfortably warm. But sometimes, it would turn icy cold or scalding hot for the entire day. If Sir was there, he would sit in an armchair across the room and watch through the glass as his toy flinched and twitched in and out of the spray. When he wasn't there, Sir must have enjoyed knowing that his toy was doing it anyways, because it happened even then.

One time, early on, Sir's toy had tried filling the tub with water and waiting for it to come to room temperature. That night, Sir had stormed in and fucked his toy's ass over the edge of the tub, holding her face-down in hot water until she nearly drowned. Since then, Sir's toy knew to dance in and out of the shower whenever it froze or boiled. But sometimes she thought about repeating the experiment again, just for the wonderful, deadly burn of lungs and face and ass as Sir ruined his toy.

***

Sir's toy was bound to the chaise: legs spread wide over the backrest, pussy in the air, head and shoulders down among the cushions. For all that the position was uncomfortable, the toy was already drippingly and achingly on the edge.

She didn't remember how many days in a row Sir had visited his toy. She had lost count; it felt like weeks that Sir's toy had been edged by him-- sometimes what seemed like a dozen times a day-- again and again without release. Sir had been using his toy in every way possible: fucking her pussy and ass and throat, edging her with hands and mouth and vibrations, stuffing his toy and emptying his toy and tormenting his toy with pain and pleasure; but never letting her come.

For days, Sir's toy had worn eyes glazed over with vacant need. She had dripped and drooled, wept and begged, and been punished for it and then praised and then punished again when denial made her so crazy that she forgot she was Sir's toy.

Now, Sir's toy was feverish against the chaise cushions. A long, lit candle jutted out of her pussy into the air, and Sir bent over his toy's head with his cock, fucking her face where it hung off the edge of the seat at an awkward angle.

The position made Sir's toy cough and gag and lurch around him, her eyes bulging and body humming. If Sir had been able to make his toy eat food today, Sir's toy might have vomited. But as it was, there was nothing to come out but spit and desire. Every thrust of Sir's cock made the candle sputter and spill, dropping hot wax over his toy's pussy and thighs and stomach. The burns would make Sir's toy writhe and twitch, spilling wax all over again, and making her throat close tightly around Sir in surprise and pain and desperate, devastating pleasure.

Sir's toy knew nothing except that she needed to come. Not even that she was Sir's toy, but only that she needed to come with this cock in her mouth and this wax searing her skin.

Sir freed one hand from bracing himself, and fucked the base of the candle into his toy a handful of times. The toy wept and groaned around his cock, her body screaming towards climax. Then Sir's thumb circled into the toys clit, dragging her sharply along the splitting edge. Days and days of denial burbled up through her body and she was about to erupt with it.

And then Sir took away his hand and unloaded his cum into her throat and it spilled out of her and the edge swooped away and she was again an ocean of vacant, howling need.

That night Sir's toy thrashed on the floor at the foot of the bed, hands and feet bound to keep her from fucking herself, while her pussy clenched uselessly around the thin, hard edge of the candle, unable to find relief.

***

One day, Sir's toy stirred from her usual fog of arousal and longing to realise that she had not seen Sir in a very long time. Distantly, a far-off part of her that had once been able to consider things other than Sir's punishments or pleasure, coiled and uncoiled into something like a worry.

The room continued to be cleaned while Sir's toy slept. Clothing appeared. Food still slid under the little hatch in the door. Somebody knew Sir's toy was there. But what would they do with her if Sir never returned?

Surely the toy had been a person once, before she had been Sir's toy. She must have had a life before Sir. But Sir's toy couldn't remember it. Couldn't imagine a world that was worth living in without Sir.

The toy even went and peered around the curtain, looking at all of Sir's things that had once seemed so cruel and terrible, wondering if maybe she could find something to punish herself for then she would be a good toy and it would somehow bring Sir back to her. But Sir's toy couldn't think of any punishment worse than being without Sir, and so Sir's toy could only lay down on the floor and think of Sir and cry.

And when the door finally opened, and Sir's shape appeared within it, The toy leapt up and ran across the room and flung Sir's toy into Sir's arms. And Sir held his toy and whispered sweetly into his toy's hair, and Sir's toy wept with joy that there was Sir and there was his toy; even as Sir held his toy firmly and carried his toy nimbly and took his toy lightly across the room to disappear behind the red curtain.