A Submissives Revenge Ch 01

~ Past Mars ~

I pulled against the ropes around my wrists; the strands had begun cutting into me. I lay face down on a bed, my face buried into a pillow. I tried to move my legs. If I could pull them together, perhaps I could ward off the cock about to be forced into my rectum. My feet were ties firmly to the footboard posts. I was defenseless against the inevitable.

I had only one final hope. Still muffled by the pillow, I shouted, "Mars."

It got no response. My male assailant began to thrust his cock roughly into me. He slapped me resoundingly across my ass. "Lift up your hips or this is going to hurt even worse." The impact burned my right cheek.

I couldn't help myself. I began to whimper, "Mars. Please, I'm saying Mars."

He didn't stop pushing into me, instead three fingers crammed into my pussy. "This should help. Now lift up your fucking hips."

I was angry. I was being violated and humiliated, yet I had no other choice, I lifted my hips and felt his erection move to its full length inside me. This time I screamed, "Mars, for fuck sake, Mars. Mars. Mars." I was despite to make it stop.

"I can't hear you, bitch. If you want to act like a slut, you have to expect to be treated like one."

"Please, you don't have to do this. Not like this." I couldn't help myself. I began to cry. I was sobbing and begging.

Then I started to cum, a strong one. I stopped my sniveling and began to gasp. His fingers worked away inside my vagina and I felt a shiver overtake me.

"I am a slut. I've fucked other men. I deserve this. Don't stop, Greg."

"You worthless tramp. I knew you were screwing around. Take it." He grabbed my buttocks with both hands on either side and rammed with all of his weight against me.

I could feel him shoot his spunk into my rectum, which felt raw for the intrusion. He pulled out and I could feel traces of his semen still flowing from his cock dribbling on my crack.

"OK, you've gotten what you wanted. All of it. Mars."

"Sorry, Mindy, you still need to pay." I could hear him go out of the room and then return seconds later. A flash of bright light and I knew I was being photographed with his goo streaming down my ass, another picture for his sick private collection, no doubt. Then came the strap across my back. It nearly took the wind out of me. Ten sharp whips with the narrow leather flails. Each was painful and was inflicted with enough force to leave a painful mark that would for be visible days.

I was angry and fought to control my temper. Bad things happened when I couldn't. It was no use. I began to cum once more. My climax was obvious and I knew it would only lead to farther punishment. Another five stokes across my back for my insolence. At last, I was untied.

"Fuck it, Greg. I said the safe word. If you aren't going to go by it, I how can trust you?" My face flushed with anger but I willed my voice to remain clam.

Greg's face presented me with a black stare. "Don't be such a baby, Mindy. You know you wouldn't enjoy it, if I wasn't pushing you past your limits." He kissed me as I sat up next to him.

"I was forced," I said. "You could have hurt me." I wanted him to understand that we had to draw a line somewhere.

"A husband can't force his own wife. Not in this state." His smile seemed cruel and condescending.

"Maybe not legally, but being forced against my will, is still morally force."

He laughed, the bastard actually laughed at me. "And you can't get off without it."

That was true, at least mostly. "Mars" was our agreed safety word. A single syllable that was discernibly different for any sex talk we'd likely have. He was supposed to stop without question whenever I said it. Greg had wantonly dishonored our agreement for his own gratification. I was now at his mercy on our weekend sub/dom sex romps, performing on a high wire without a net.

At that moment, I silently vowed to take revenge and punish him for his violations of my trust. I'd always be an enthusiastic submissive in our relationship but he was becoming increasing domineering and savage. I knew I had to take back some form of control before this got farther out of hand.

I'd always been the compliant participant in my relationship with Greg. He was the first man to recognize it in me. I'd had sexual encounters with other men before we met, but none ever satisfactory. I began to wonder if I might be frigid. Then Greg, on our forth date tied my arms behind my back and forced me to suck him off in our first sexual encounter.

It sounded bizarre, since I knew nothing of the B&D scene, but that was the very first time I was able to cum. A revelation of the missing piece of my sexual needs. His sperm shot into my mouth and as I helplessly swallowed, I came in a blast I didn't believe existed. From then on, I was his to do with as he pleased. I gave myself, body and soul, to his demanding tyranny.

I've been willingly and eagerly bound, whipped, and spanked many times. The domination was like a drug, exactly like a drug. The more I got, the more I wanted and the more it took to get me to the same level of arousal as the previous time.

Six month ago, I lay completely naked bound onto an inclined plywood board in a portion of the basement Greg has converted into a simulated dungeon for our more advanced dominance play sessions. The walls were painted black and dozens of candles provided the only illumination in the chamber. A ring mounted onto the cinderblock that I'd been securely chained to many times for hours on end, remained unused. The flicker of the candles gave the room an eerily macabre yet romantic look.

Greg took one of the candles and held it over me. A single droplet of wax fell onto my breasts. I winced at the hot touch of the paraffin. More drips landed on me and a splatter of small burning drops kissed my tender flesh. A red ring surrounded each drip as it landed. With the candle was inverted so that the flame consumed the shaft more rapidly, a steady stream of red wax rained down upon me. I yelped as a cascade of molten liquid poured over my helpless torso. When one candle was finished, Greg grabbed another and repeated the process.

The small silver rings that went through my pierced nipples became splattered with wax. Greg pulled at each blue captive bead on upper curvature each of the hoop. My areolas became sensitive from the stimulation and I cried out with a familiar mix of pain and exhalation.

The candles were different colors and slowly a rainbow mound of warm wax built across my chest and belly. I watched as my navel filled with the blue candle paraffin and slowly cooled. The pain subsided when I became used to the melted liquid stings and a cover of hardened wax began to protect my sensitive skin.

When only three candles were left to light the dungeon, Greg carefully pried the built up wax off me. A near perfect form of my upper body formed and he placed it on a shelf mounted on the wall. I hoped he'd fuck me now. I was melting with my own desires, but he had more plans for my suffering.

Greg held a large round white candle, that he worked it into my vagina. It hurt going in since the bottom was flat with edges and I tried to move away. I knew such behavior might rate a slap across my thighs, but I couldn't help myself.

Eventually, the candle was inserted inside me to about three quarters of its length. My heart beat faster when I realized what he had next in mind. I heard a match strike and smelled the scent of sulfur. He lit the wick and fire danced near my clit.

"I'll blow out the flame...as soon as I cum," he announced.

"Please stop, this is getting dangerous."

"Oh, are you going to use your safe word to get out of this and prove what a scared little girl you are? Maybe your rather play with dolls than fuck."

Greg had ways of intimidating me into not using our safe word. I'd be shamed for days on end if I did.

"Well, what are you waiting for? You'd better get started with your blowjob, unless you want your cunt scorched."

He placed his cock near my mouth. I moved my head up to begin sucking it. He teased me by pulling it away. Then he laughed and ran it over my lips. Once again, I opened my mouth, only to have it moved out of my restrained grasp. I had to beg to suck the son of a bitch's penis. My vagina was beginning to feel the heat of the candle's flame.

By the time he blew his load in my mouth and assured I'd swallowed every drop, I could feel the flame starting to heat my clitoris. He blew it out with a single puff and I came in a blinding blast moaning in a high pitch girlish voice that said how much I loved my experience.

I was released from the board, only to be chained to the ring on the wall. Greg fucked me with his cock, a rubber dildo and a thinner candle for two more hours. I could feel my clitoris tingle against the surgical steel ring held within its piercing. I was always aware of its presence, originally inserted as constant reminder of my acceptance of my servitude, as my clit began to swell in anticipation; the ring added a devastating sensual stimulation.

I came and came again like a shameless nympho. By the time my arm and leg manacles had been unlocked, I was filthy from laying on a floor mat covering the bare concrete, but too satisfied to feel the mortification I should have.

~ ~ ~ End of Chapter 1 of 3 ~ ~ ~