A smile creeps across your face. Normally you would suppress it; knowing it would upset him, but you know he can't see your face with it buried in this pillow. The pillow is in a table, your table. It is a sturdy table, standing exactly 3 inches higher than you waist. You know because he measured you before he built it. It has two depressions along the surface; one holds the pillow in which your face is buried; the other is for your breasts. The depression is deep enough that being tied face down for hours is never painful, but it is not deep enough to be comfortable.
You love this table. It is the only piece in his expansive dungeon built specifically for you. Very few other women would fit on this table the way you do, and even if he found one he would still know it was built for you.
Your smile widens as you feel the familiar leather of his favorite cope caress you exposed ass. You squirm against your bonds and whimper loudly into your pillow. You can almost feel the fabric of his pants stretch against this growing erection. You cunt moistens at the thought of it entering you. Some of your greatest orgasms have been while tied to this table, your chest and arms stretching the length and tied to the legs on the far side, the balls of your feet barely reaching the cold, latex covered concrete floor, your legs spread and bound to the legs of the table. You feel your clit engorge at the memories of those orgasms and the knowledge that this one will top them all. You hear the reason why breathing hard in front of you.
She is beautiful. She is a lithe little thing with big doe eyes and a tight little body. A true submissive. Not like you. You like your power; you use your power; you prove you have it by giving it away. She has no power and wants no power. She has been waiting for someone to take and take her you did.
You meet in in the sex you work in. She had come in to buy a toy. She wandered aimlessly in front of the giant wall of dildos and vibrators for fifteen minutes before you decided she needed help. You went through the normal battery of questions to find out want she was looking for to no avail. To each question she gave a vague answer to each suggestion she gave a response like, "If you think I'd like that," or, "Is that what you'd get?" in that meek voice of hers.
Finally you decided to change tactics.
"What is the greatest orgasm you have ever had?"
You could not believe the shade of scarlet her face turned.
With her eyes on your shoes she finally stammers, "Umm....I uhh..had this boyfriend once...well he wasn't really my boyfriend, but we uhh did stuff. And well.. I umm...while we were doing....stuff and I umm accidently....ummmm....kinda...bit him...down there."
"And that got you off?" you ask with a raised eyebrow.
"OH! NO!" she proclaimed, "It's what happened next."
"Well, what happened?"
"It's kinda embarrassing."
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I've heard and done almost anything you can think of."
Her eyes leave the floor for the first time as she looks into your face with a mixture of fear and excitement. She quickly surveys the empty store before returning her gaze to the floor.
"So I bit him and he kinda yelped in pain. He grabbed my hair and threw me to the floor. He yelled at me and called me names. I tried to say I was sorry, but he said that wasn't good enough. That I needed to be taught a lesson, that I needed a spanking. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and he grabbed me and pulled me over his lap. I don't remember how many times he spanked me. I lost count. But I had two....umm.... you know...orgasms."
"You get off from being spanked?" you ask disbelievingly.
She looks crushed. "yes," she almost whispers.
"Good for you." Her eyes light up as she looks up at you.
"Really?" she asks imploringly.
"Yeah, I wish I could. I just get really wet when someone spanks me. You want to know a secret?" you ask.
"What?" she asks nervously.
"Your story got me pretty wet too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. So what happened to this boy of yours? Why don't you get him to spank you?"
