Sex stories

Sex stories




Submission Ch. 03

N.B: Contains watersports.

*****

The appointment was made. Now I had to struggle through the week that followed like a drug addict desperate for a fix. I couldn't concentrate at work; my notebook filled with crude, adolescent sketches of her hips, her breasts, her pussy suspended over my face.

The evenings were the worst. Then there was nothing to distract me from the interminable waiting; I found my leg bouncing up and down in nervous anticipation of my next submissive treatment as the images of vapid television personalities played across my unfocused eyes.

Several times in the run up to that next appointment I found myself driving down her street. Sometimes I pulled up but left the engine running, gazing at the frosted glass of her front door, wondering what she was doing inside, what painful pleasure she was bestowing on some willing victim like myself. And I felt a pang of jealousy which had me flooring the accelerator and taking me to some bar where no one knew my name.

As I knocked back a bourbon and coke in the confines of a snug which muffled the moronic sound of twenty ignoramuses watching Arsenal V. Man U, I reflected on that strange jealousy. Solitude leads to strange psychoses and obsessions, I have found. One of them, in my case, is etymology.

Jealousy, now used ubiquitously as a substitute for the word 'envy' was originally quite distinct from it. A fear or anxiety over an expected or suspected loss of something close to one's heart.

Was she close to my heart? Yes, it was undeniable. She had opened the door to the living, breathing, sweating world of my fantasy. She had taken my hand (and cock) and led me to take my first steps on that yellow brick road and I knew that now I was irretrievably lost, unable to separate and compartmentalise that sordid world with the bleak reality of my lonely life of before.

But I couldn't be close to her heart. I was just another paying customer, no more significant than the last. How many nights a week did she indulge sad perverts like myself? How many fantasies did she so expertly realise? It was all an act, a performance on which she probably reflected and laughed whilst counting the coins. And yet, and yet...

That widening of the eyes when she regarded my manhood. Those arms draped around my shoulders. That fleeting kiss. That sweet voice which hinted at the real woman behind the mask, "Time to go back to the real world."

Was there any significance? Was I just hoping beyond any hope? How many men had sat in similar surroundings nursing these same thoughts, caught in her web?

I downed the last of my drink and left.

***

When I got home and clicked my on computer, a distraction before bed, I noticed a new email in my inbox. The ID was hers.

'Dear Slave,

Another visit so soon? Clearly you didn't learn your lesson well enough. Obviously, you need stricter instruction. When you visit, bring a change of clothes and an overnight bag. It'll cost extra but I think you need it.

Kiss,

Your Mistress.'

My eyes widened and I didn't realise I was holding my breath until I let it loose in an unconscious sigh of arousal. All night? Was that her plan? It wouldn't be any disruption; I had booked a Friday evening like last time; there was no need to get up and be anywhere the following day, but could I take her ministrations for such a long time? Of course I could. And I would. She was my mistress after all and I lived to serve.

***

It was raining heavily this time when I pulled up across from her abode. I cut the engine and clutched the handle of the leather overnight back sat in the passenger seat. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the known/unknown of my immediate future, and pushed open the driver's door.

The rain fell in thick and heavy drops and I was near soaked by the time I stepped up to her front door and rang the bell. There is no awning over her entrance way and my hair began to be plastered to my forehead as I waited.

I saw her outline slowly approach and realised that she was keeping me waiting on purpose; the teasing torture had already begun. The lock clicked and the door swung open and I gasped involuntarily at the sight of my tormentor.

This time she was clad in the latex catsuit she wore on her homepage and it looked even more alluring in the flesh. The black rubber was polished to a shining finish and extended from neck to toe, clinging to her shapely figure like crude oil dripped over her gorgeous frame, accentuating every curve. A keyhole cut in the chest revealed her shapely cleavage and her black cherry hair hung loose, framing her porcelain face. A zip extended from the bottom rim of the keyhole down her front to disappear between her legs. Her lips were painted a dark wine red and her eyes were shadowed a charcoal black. A pair of long laced boots extended to her knees, the toes of which were a rounded, militaristic style which promised discipline and physical torment. In her hand hung once more the riding crop of before.

"Like what you see?" she purred from the doorway.

"Yes, mistress. You look beautiful... stunning," I replied and grimaced at my attempt at not sounding cheesy failing miserably. Fortunately she passed no comment on this.

"Well, my little drowned rat, I think it's time you came inside." She stepped to one side and gestured with the riding crop.

I stepped into the porch and stole an opportunity to surreptitiously run the backs of my fingers along her latex-clad stomach. Mistress Scarlett never misses a trick however. The riding crop came sailing through the air to swat at my hand and I instinctively retracted my fingers into a protective fist.

"Getting bold, I see," she said, with a laugh in her voice. "You really do need a proper lesson this time."

She shut the door behind me and the lock clicked. I was truly imprisoned in her lair; there was no escape now from what lay ahead.

She walked ahead of me and I followed like a pet desperate for attention. I watched as her hips swung before me, her firm arse cheeks flexing as she stepped across the tiles, the rubber which encased them shining in the dim light of her hallway.

We entered her minimalist living room and she turned to face me.

"You remember the safety word?"

"Yes, Mistress," I answered, a quaver in my voice. The situation had a more solid reality than before by virtue of experience and I felt nervous at the prospect of extended passion and torment.

She stepped up to me and pressed her slick figure against my body, sliding her left hand around my back to rest it on my shoulder. Her rubber-clad body was warm; waves of heat rose from those places where her skin was exposed and I felt a familiar stirring as the reality of her flesh was reinforced.

Her face came close to mine and her lips brushed my own. The dark lipstick had a fruity taste and I tried my utmost to restrain myself from passionately reciprocating her kiss, from consuming her beautiful mouth.

She knelt down and placed the riding crop on the floor, her left hand running down my body as she did so, ending on the front of my trousers. Her fingers caressed and gripped my hardening cock, hidden beneath layers of fabric. With an inhaled hmmm, she rose to her feet and ran her fingers up and over my face to brush my wet hair backwards over my scalp. Her right hand slipped down and took the overnight bag from me.

"I think it's time you undressed," she commanded and walked over to the sofa to place the bag by its side.

"I brought a gift for you," I said as she turned to regard me.

"Oh yes?" She smiled beatifically and my heart fluttered.

"I-in the bag," I stammered and slipped my jacket off.

She unzipped the bag and withdrew my gift: a bottle of finest red wine.

"I guessed you like red wine from before. It's... rather expensive," I muttered and began unbuttoning my shirt.

"Thank you," she said as she held the glass bottle and regarded the label. "I think we can have some fun with this."

I continued to undress as she walked from the room, her heavy boots making contact with the floor with a pleasing parade ground stamping.

I was down to my underwear when she returned with a large wine glass hanging upside down by its stem from her sensual fingers. She placed it on the glass coffee table and retrieved a bottle opener from a bowl.

"I said undressed," she spoke absentmindedly as she worked the corkscrew into the neck of the bottle. "I want you naked immediately."

I slipped my fingers into the waistband of my shorts and obliged. My stiff cock slipped free at the same instant she worked the cork from the bottle with an echoing 'pop'. She giggled and poured a generous measure into the glass upon the table.

She flicked her hair back over one shoulder and, picking up the glass, took a deep gulp of the precious wine. It had cost me a week's pay to purchase and now it ran down her throat; I couldn't think of a better place to put it.

She crossed her left arm underneath her breasts and rested her fingers on her right elbow as she sipped at the wine and regarded my naked form.

"Delicious," she spoke and I wasn't sure whether she was referring to the wine or to myself. She placed the glass back on the coffee table. From the sofa she picked up a familiar collar and leash and approached me.

"Put this on." She held it out.

I wrapped the collar about my throat and felt for the buckle at the back of my neck. I tightened it to a pleasing constriction and let my arms fall to my sides. The room was warm and my rain slicked hair was gradually drying. I felt comfortably naked before my mistress. I wanted to stretch out on her tiled floor and be probed and invaded by her, to give my vulnerable body completely over to her commanding hands.

"On your knees, slave," she ordered and I eagerly obliged, lowering myself to the warm tiles at our feet.

She bent over and retrieved the crop from beside me. Her left hand came forward to take hold of the leash.

"Now for your infraction as you entered, I'm afraid you must receive some punishment. Stick that cute arse up in the air, little boy."

I leant forward and thrust my backside upwards, eagerly providing her with her quarry.

The riding crop came swishing through the air to crack against my flesh. As a stinging pain spread instantly through my backside I grinned with joy. It came sailing again and again to lick the skin of my arse and she laughed as she punished my behind. A full ten strokes were delivered before I was allowed to breathe again and I was left panting from her ministrations for a moment.

"What do you say?" she asked when it was over.

"Thank you, mistress," I answered, desperate to make her happy.

"Good boy. Now, come." She tugged at the leash and I followed her over to the sofa on my hands and knees.

She slid onto the leather sofa, her black catsuit squeaking as it made contact.

"Sit up against the sofa and lay your head back."

Without hesitation, I did as I was told, completely trusting her to administer exactly what I needed. I looked up into her upside down face, her hair hanging about her shoulders as she gazed down into my eyes.

"Open your mouth."

I opened my jaw wide at her command. She immediately spat in my mouth and I felt her warm saliva run over my tongue to pool at the back of my throat.

"Good boy," she spoke with a smile. "Now stay exactly like that and breathe through your nose."

She leant forward and from a silver case retrieved a cigarette which she quickly lit, exhaling a plume of blue/black smoke. She sat back on the sofa with her glass of wine in one hand and the other slipping the cigarette to and from her dark lips.

She took a deep sip of wine and leant forward over me once again. She lowered her face to mine and trickled the wine from her lips into my mouth. My tongue tingled and I felt a desperate need to swallow. Once she had filled me with the rich, red liquid she sat back and continued to smoke.

I was furiously breathing through my nose, willing myself not to swallow, to hold the wine between my cheeks, my mouth open for her judgement.

She lowered the cigarette to hover over my face and tapped the ash into my mouth. The smoke invaded my nose and I held my breath, trying to not cough the wine into her lap.

"Good boy," she purred from above. "You're my ashtray now."

She took another drag and flicked the ash into the pool of wine in my mouth where it sizzled. This continued for several minutes with her giggling as she flicked the dead cinders into her human ashtray.

Finally, she leant forward and stubbed the cigarette out in a traditional ashtray upon the coffee table. Her hand came down to stroke my cheek.

"Now, be a good boy and swallow it all up," she commanded.

I closed my eyes and drank the warm wine, laden with ash, down and exhaled as the liquid warmed my insides. She slid down and off the edge of the sofa to come to rest on my right leg. The latex of her suit smoothly slid onto my skin and her weight was pleasing on my thigh. Her hand came down to firmly grip my erection. She spat in my face and gripped my cheeks with her free hand.

"You're such a trashy little slut," she hissed in my face viciously. "You couldn't keep away from me. I'm going to have fun breaking you in even further. You need to be extremely punished for how disgusting you truly are."

Her hand withdrew and came back across my cheek in a harsh slap. I let loose an involuntary squeal at the sudden pain but no sooner had this violence registered in my fevered brain when she struck me again, her palm impacting my skin with a vicious slap which echoed in the sparse living room.

She laughed and spat in my face. Gently wiping her spit across my now pink cheek she spoke more gently.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you slut?"

I nodded and licked at the saliva which was running over my top lip. She slapped me again and took hold of my face roughly with her fingers.

"I can't hear you!" She shouted in my face, her breath rich with wine and smoke.

"Yes, Mistress," I whimpered.

"Good boy," she responded and began to slide her hand up and down my engorged length. "You know, I like this catsuit a lot. It makes me feel empowered. You can see me and yet you can't. My skin is inside, out of sight, whilst my curves are all on show."

She let go of my cock and stood before me.

"However," she continued as she took hold of the leash at my neck once more, "It gets very hot. My skin can't breathe and I get very sweaty inside."

She turned so her backside hovered inches from my face. Her hand came round to her lower back and took hold of the metal zip that hung there.

"I want you to lick the sweat out of my arse."

Her fingers slid the zip down and the latex parted to reveal her round backside. She unzipped the catsuit to down between her legs so that her arse cheeks and bald pussy lips were exposed, glistening with sweat. She leant forward to reveal more of herself.

"There, that's better," she purred and tugged at the leash, pulling my head towards her exposed flesh. "Now lick my arse, little boy."

Her skin smelt of talcum and rubber and I eagerly pushed my face between her arse cheeks. I slipped my tongue out of my mouth and began to lick at her damp skin. Her hand came back, took hold of my hair and pulled my face deeper into her arse. I worked my tongue up and down the crack of her backside, greedily licking up her salty sweat. Then I darted my tongue into her arsehole, feeling the tight constriction of skin part around the tip. The heat of her insides made the end of my tongue tingle as I pushed it deeper inside my mistress's arse, bringing my hands up to clutch her thighs as I did so to afford myself further penetration.

"Oh, you dirty little cunt," she groaned and pushed her arse back, encouraging my probing tongue. "Yeah, you like licking my arsehole, don't you? You know you're just buying yourself further punishment? That's right, you know you have to do exactly what I say and I didn't ask you to stick your tongue up my arse, only to lick it. However, your slave tongue feels good so I'll let you continue for now. You'll get repaid for your presumption, I assure you."

Taking a firm grip of my head, she began to slide her wet arse crack on my face, rubbing her backside over my mouth and lips. I felt her fingers slide into her pussy beneath my chin and heard her moan as she began to touch herself whilst I licked at her behind.

"Yeah," she breathed, "lick my fucking arse you little cunt. I'm going to cum all over these fingers and then you're going to lick them dry."

I continued to furiously lick up and down her crack, sliding the tip of my tongue over her arsehole as she frigged her pussy. She was moaning loudly now, deep and primal sounds which built in length and intensity. Her fingers worked aggressively at her clit, her nails sometimes scratching at my chin as I worked my mouth into her arse.

Then her moans built to a furious scream and she backed her body forcibly onto me, pushing me back on to the tiles, my mouth smothered by her flesh as she came hard on my face.

"Yes, yes, yes," she yelped and rubbed her pussy on my face vigorously, wiping her juices over my mouth and nose, as she rode out her orgasm with my head as her saddle. I couldn't breathe but I didn't care as the silky smooth, boiling skin of her pussy lips was wiped over my face.

Her hands found my cock and she slid forward, finally allowing me air. I gulped at it, my vision swimming from lack of oxygen as I felt her lips wrap around my length. She lay on top of me, greedily sucking at my cock as I panted for breath, her wet pussy laying on my chest.

She withdrew my cock from her mouth and began to pump it in her hand.

"Hmmm, I like this cock." She smacked her lips. "I think it's juuuuust right. I think I want to feel this cock inside me tonight."

My heart skipped a beat; had I heard her correctly?

"I think I want my insides stretched around your length." She continued to masturbate me and I groaned as I felt my excitement building at the base of my balls.

"But first." She let go of me. "First, we need to address your worrying lack of respect for your mistress's wishes."

She planted a heavy boot on the tiles on either side of my head and lifted herself up to stand over me. Taking hold of the zip which now hung above her pussy, she closed the gap which exposed her holes and took hold of my leash.

"Get on your hands and knees."

I obeyed swiftly, my head brushing the tightly bound boot laces on her shins as I manoeuvred myself into position at her feet.

She stepped over to the table and poured herself another glass of wine. Returning to my side with the glass in hand she sat down on my back. I grunted as I took her weight and she crossed her legs, increasing the burden on my back. She giggled and took a big gulp of wine. Her free hand came down to stroke my lower back.

"I think I could get used to this," she said between sips of wine. "Ashtray, chair, toilet... you have so many uses."

"I hope I satisfy you in all, Mistress," I said, my teeth gritted beneath her. She is not heavy but I am not a strong man and years of toiling behind a desk does not adequately prepare one to be human furniture.

"Did I say you could speak?" Her voice held a tone of menace.

"No, mistress, I'm sorry."

"That's better. But yes, you do satisfy me. A great deal. I like to humiliate you. There are not many so willing for degradation as you. It's fun."

I felt my heart warm, despite the pain of my burden. So I was more than just another customer after all. Or was she just saying that for my benefit? Despite her power over me in that moment, I held the real power. I was the one who was paying, after all. I could end the scenario at any time and she would oblige. It was, all of it, artifice- a role play where I only imagined I was at her mercy.
For the first time, I questioned whether it would it ever be good enough, real enough. Was I just fooling myself? Trying to fill a hole in my life that could never be truly filled with imaginary, ethereal fantasy? Who was this woman? Who was she really? Beneath the rubber and the punishment was she really as strong and independent as she seemed?

Above me, she had finished her wine. Placing the glass down on the table she stood up and my back was relieved of the pressure of supporting her. She pulled me to my feet with the leash and led me over to the stairs which I knew led to her dungeon.

It was cooler down there and my flesh pricked with gooseflesh as she led me to a rack to retrieve leather cuffs. She slipped them onto my wrists and tightened them before retrieving further cuffs, this time for my ankles. I looked down at her as she knelt before me, fastening the cuffs, and gazed longingly at her deep cleavage which showed, slick with sweat, through the keyhole cut into the front of her catsuit.

She stood up and led me to a large wooden frame in an X shape which stood in the middle of the room.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked and gestured to the frame.

"Um... no... Mistress," I answered pathetically.

"This is a Saint Andrew's cross," she told me, "So named as it resembles the cross on which Saint Andrew was martyred. It is an excellent device on which a submissive can be suitably punished for their wicked ways. Now, step up to it and spread your limbs to match its shape, facing the cross."

I did so and Mistress Scarlett fastened my ankle and wrists to the spread beams of the cross. I pulled against my restraints and discovered there was no play; I was absolutely at her mercy. I heard her boots stepping away from me, over to a rack to retrieve some instrument of torture no doubt.

"I have here a flogger and you will count, out loud, the times it licks your skin, do you understand?"

I took a breath, steeling myself for the onslaught. "Yes, Mistress."

The myriad tails of the flogger split the air and struck my back. My skin erupted into a fire of passion.

"One," I counted between gritted teeth.

The leather tongues of the flogger whipped me again.

"Two."

The fire intensified and my engorged shaft painfully pressed up against the crossed wooden beams. Again and again the flogger struck my skin and each time the called count became higher pitched as I strained my muscles against her violence.

Finally, number ten was reached and I slumped in my restraints with respite from the pain. As I panted I felt her fingers between my thighs, running over the tight skin of my sack and moving forward to caress my cock.

"Hmmm, yeah, beaten and whipped, just like how I like you," she purred in my ear. "But not humiliated enough, I think."

Her fingers ran up and into the crack of my arse where the tips flitted over my exposed hole.

"A little dry for what I have in store."

I felt her move behind me and was surprised when I felt her face press between my arse cheeks. I jumped involuntarily as her warm tongue probed at my behind, the wet tip working around and into my hole. Her hand came up and gripped my cock firmly.

"Yeah," she hissed behind me between laps at my backside, "This is what you like, isn't it? You like your mistress licking your arse. Well, enjoy it while you can; I'm only prepping you for what's next."

She pumped my cock in her hand whilst she licked at my hole and I was ready to shoot my load over the tiled floor. But then she stopped, withdrawing her face and hand suddenly, leaving me panting and desperate for more.

"I think you're ready now, little boy. Time for you to lose any last remaining innocence."

I was left, slowly bringing my breathing under control and, with nothing to see, my eyes closed as I waited for her next assault.

I heard her steps and then felt it at my arsehole. Without the benefit of sight, the pleasure and expectation was enhanced as I perceived a thick, rubbery probe press against the tight constriction of skin. She pressed her slinky body up against my back and I felt her breasts cushioned against me.

"Needs a little more lubrication," she murmured in my ear.

Her left hand slid up to my throat and took hold of my jaw.

"Open wide," she hissed.

I gaped my jaw and snapped my eyes open to regard a thick, black rubber dildo approach my face clutched in her right hand. She thrust it into my mouth.

"Suck on that cock, little boy; make it all wet!"

I wrapped my lips around the rubber cock and allowed her to slide it in and out of my mouth, her left hand around my throat. I am not homosexual but the feeling of violation by this depraved woman turned me on more than I'd ever been. I greedily sucked at the rubber member, eager to obey her instructions. She forced it to the back of my throat and I coughed and spluttered as its tip tickled my gag reflex. She did not stop at my discomfort, however, rather she continued throat fucking me with the long black dildo as I coughed spit over its length, her fingers clutched tightly around it.

Finally, she slid the ersatz cock from my throat and I gasped for air, retching saliva. Without pause or comment she returned it to my behind and began to force it inside of me. I groaned loudly as my arsehole constricted around the foreign invader but she would not give me any reprieve, any chance to prepare.

"Relax your hole or this is going to hurt, slave."

I took a deep breath through my nose and willed myself to relax my muscles. My hole felt pained at the violation and I gritted my teeth as I waited for her to reach the point where it would slide more easily into me, for the pleasure of the invasion to begin.

"Yeah, fucked up the arse like a little whore; that's what you want, isn't it?" She hissed in my ear, her hand tightly clutched around my throat. Saliva ran from my mouth and over my chin as I let her abuse my arse.

The dildo pushed up further and further, starting to slide more easily into me and I moaned a deep bass groan, reduced as I was to a mere piece of flesh open to her domination. The end of the cock thrust deep and tickled my insides, producing an electric stimulation which pulsed outwards to my extremities, the shocking sensation of which made me shudder.

She withdrew the dildo almost completely and then plunged it back into me, slowly. Her mouth was against my right cheek and she hissed abuse in my ear as she began to fuck me with her torturous device.

"Yeah, deeper this time. A big black cock nice and deep in your arse, you little cunt. How does it feel?"

"Urhh... good, Mistress," I whimpered, "It feels good."

She increased the speed, sliding the massive length in and out of my backside and I heard an uncontrollable and unending groan emanating from my strangled throat.

"Yeah," she jeered, "It'll hurt after too. Little anal virgin's going to have a little red hole when I'm done fucking you."

Suddenly the cock was withdrawn. I panted for air as her hand left my throat and struggled to focus with my vision blurred by passion as she unclipped my restraints.

"Wh...? What...?"

Her hand came sailing through the air and slapped my face hard. I clutched at my burning skin in shock.

"Shut your dirty little mouth, cunt! Now bend over the bench."

She motioned to the leather padded bench I remembered from my last visit and I immediately lay my body lengthways across it. She stepped over and took my wrists to attach them to the forward restraints.

I looked at myself in the mirror in front as she stepped over to yet another rack of tools. My face dripped with sweat and her saliva; my cheeks were flushed pink and her hand print shone redly from where she had struck me. I was a dishevelled and degraded mess.

She walked up behind me and my eyes opened wide as I regarded her new accessory. Around her waist was buckled a black strap-on and her fingers massaged lubricant onto its length as she grinned mischievously at my reflection.

"Spread your legs," she commanded but I hesitated to obey. She let go of the fake member at her crotch and placed her hands on her hips with a frown. "What? You pussying out? Don't you want me to fuck you? Isn't this what you want? To be my degraded little anal whore?"

I swallowed but was still inhibited. Presenting myself to her to physically fuck me with her body automatically had me pressing my thighs together in protection. But why? She was right after all, that was what I wanted: an escape from the masculine world of my work, my life, from the fake front I had always had to put up in polite company so no one would know my shameful desire. I wanted her to continue to dominate me, to take my body and my soul into her rough embrace.

I exhaled a sigh of resignation and parted my legs.

She giggled and stepped up behind me. Taking the strap-on in her hand she guided it to the sore entrance at my backside.

"I thought so," she laughed triumphantly. "You know you want this. You know you want to be my little anal whore."

She thrust the fake cock into me and I grunted at the rough penetration.

"What are you?" she yelled and spat on my back as she began to fuck me, her latex clad hips pistoning back and forth.

"Uh... I'm your... little anal... whore," I managed to grunt as she fucked me from behind.

Her hands fell upon my back and she kneaded my flesh as she thrust the cock in and out. Her fingernails dug into my skin and she scored deep red tracks which had me yelping in delicious pain.

The feeling was indescribable: part pain, part pleasure. I felt my insides stretching around her violating probe and my cock felt ready to explode. I wanted to beg her for release, for her to relieve the pressure in my balls but I knew this would only result in more teasing. I forced myself to keep my eyes open as I winced from the pain and watched her in the mirror, laughing as she fucked me. Her tits shone through the keyhole in her top and I wanted to bury my face in their embrace.

Finally, after what seemed an age of violation, she withdrew and, getting on her knees she thrust her face into my backside, licking at my arsehole and balls. Her hand came up and roughly took hold of my cock which she began to milk whilst she ran her tongue in and out of my arse.

"Oh fuck..." I breathed. I couldn't help it; my arousal had reached heights I never knew could exist and I was desperate to cum.

She let go of my member and spanked my arse harshly; a sharp cracking slap to my behind which had me screaming with surprise. Then her hand came down upon my skin again and again until I was sure she had a placed a deep red handprint on my arse cheek.

"You little cunt, you never learn your lessons, do you?" She shouted at me, the index finger of her left hand deep in my arse. "Time to be my little toilet slave; that'll shut you up."

She got up and unclipped my restraints from the bench. Grabbing me by my leash she pulled me roughly onto the floor and led me over to the throne in the corner. I lay my head down on the leather pillow that sat beneath the open seat. The plastic funnel of before was noticeably missing this time, and I prepared myself for a more messy deluge than previously.

Placing a foot either side of my shoulders, Mistress Scarlett unzipped the crotch of her catsuit once more, exposing her glistening bald pussy. She sat down above my face and the latex parted to reveal her delicious hole framed by silken labia.

"I want my pussy cleaned as I piss, and I want you to wank for me whilst you do so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied and raised my head off of the pillow as I realised the reason for the missing funnel. Eagerly I began to lap at her cunt, taking my cock in my hand and starting to masturbate. She tasted salty and creamy with sweat and juice and I groaned as I pushed my face as far into her vagina as I could manage.

"Yeah, lick my pussy my little piss slave. Wank that cock, you dirty little cunt. No cumming though, remember? You're not allowed to cum until I say so. Are you ready for my piss?"

"Uh-huh," I replied, muffled by her flesh.

"Good boy."

My tongue was lapping at the inside of her pussy when a jet of hot pee sprayed onto my chin and I eagerly widened my mouth to catch her water. It soon filled my waiting maw and began to overflow my cheeks. I swallowed quickly, savouring the salty bitter taste of her piss before opening up for more. I was furiously masturbating by now and groaning with heavenly ecstasy as my mistress used me as her toilet, her piss running over my face and over my chest.

The jet subsided and I took deep breaths as I continued to jerk myself off. She got up from the seat and turned so she could look down at me.

"Hmmm, good boy, good piss slave. You want some more?" She purred down at me, her finger running over her wet pussy lips.

"Yes Mistress, I want all you have."

She giggled and, placing the fingers of both hands around her pussy, she directed a fresh stream of piss onto my chest and face. I spluttered as I continued to pleasure myself and felt my excitement grow as I was completely humiliated by this woman.

She stepped backwards and squatted over my pelvis. One hand groping her latex clad breasts, she began to piss over my cock. The sensation of her warm water showering over my masturbating cock was so intense I had to slow my pumping in order not to shoot my load right there and then into her pissing pussy. My engorged length shone in the dim light of her dungeon as she relieved herself over it; my hand was slick with her pee.

"Oh, such a pretty sight," she breathed as her stream subsided. "Such a big cock covered in my piss. I think I want it. I think I want you to slide that big wet cock into my pussy."

My heart tightened in my chest but I didn't have much time to contemplate this turn of events because she slapped away my hand and lowered herself onto me, pulling me forth from under the throne so my head rested on the cold tiles of the floor.

The warmth of her insides engulfed my cock and I hardened further (I didn't think it possible) as she slid my entire length into her pussy. She spread her knees either side of my waist and placed her hands upon my chest. Then she began to ride my cock, slowly at first but increasing in speed and ferocity.

She moaned deeply and I let loose grunts of pleasure as my sore cock was bathed in her pussy juice and massaged by her muscles. Her hands ran up over my collar bone and into my hair as she lowered her chest onto mine, her ample breasts squashing against me, the latex which encased them becoming slippery with her water on my skin.

She lowered her face to mine and began to kiss me, wet passionate kisses which included licks across my mouth. Her fingers gripped my wet hair and she hissed at me through gritted teeth as she roughly rode my cock.

"Yeah... yeah! I've wanted that big cock in me all night. I'm going to ride it until I cum. Don't you go cumming inside me, little slave, you understand?"

I nodded and she slapped me and spat in my face. I opened my mouth wide and she spat into it again, bouncing up and down on my cock.

I raised my hands and placed them on her hips, feeling her writhing body as she rode me. She slapped me again but I didn't care; I needed to feel her body to remind myself she was real. I ran my hands over the slippery latex of her catsuit and took hold of her breasts, squeezing them hard. She continued to spit in my face but let me grope her as she brought herself to a screaming orgasm on my cock. She rode out the waves of ecstasy, aggressively thrusting her pelvis back and forth on my dick, her fingers digging into my chest.

Her eyes were closed as she breathed a sigh of release and stopped riding. She bit her lip and looked down at me, panting beneath her. Our eyes met for a moment and then she giggled and slipped me from out of her insides. She slid forward and brought her dripping pussy to my face.

"Eat my cunt," she ordered and forced herself onto my mouth.

I greedily licked at her lips, running my tongue over her boiling clitoris, feeling triumphant as she wriggled and winced with sensitivity as I did so.

Her hands came down, gripped the top of my head and pulled my face into her flesh. My nose was embedded at the opening of her labia, my mouth deep in her hole, and I couldn't breathe. But I didn't care. She rubbed herself on my mouth, wiping her pussy juice on my lips and tongue, and I felt my vision blur with lack of oxygen.

At last she withdrew and let me breathe. I gasped for air, laying my head back on the hard tiles as I desperately recovered from her treatment. Meanwhile, my tormentor had got to her feet and retrieved another device of torture from a corner shelf.

She approached me with two nipple clamps attached to metal rings. Without warning she sat on my face and my cry of surprise was muffled by her wet arsehole on my mouth. I felt her fingers tease and flick at my nipples and then the sharp piercing pain as she attached the clamps. She rubbed her arse on my face as she did so and I heard her moan with delight as she furthered my punishment.

Then she lifted from me and I found my tongue extruded; I was now giving over completely and unconsciously to the sensory overdose I was being given.

She shuffled on her knees down to my feet and swung about to face me. The clamps were sending waves of sharp pain across the skin of my chest and I felt cold and clammy, covered with a sheen of sweat and her piss. I gazed at her in lust and admiration, open and expectant for whatever may lay ahead.

From behind her back she brought forth a black rubber dildo and she parted my legs with her free arm so that I was wide open to receive. She bent forward and I groaned deeply as her tongue probed at my arsehole. She lapped like a cat and smothered my hole with her saliva, readying me for violation.

Then the ersatz cock was slid into me and I lifted my pelvis, my engorged cock wiggling as I afforded her greater and deeper access to my insides. With all the widening and stretching of before, along with the lubrication of her mouth, the dildo slid smoothly into my behind and I couldn't help but breathe, "Yes", as I surrendered further to her domination.

I had closed my eyes to focus on the sensation of her penetration but I opened them now to regard her lifting her free hand to her chest and taking hold of the second zip which dangled in front of her cleavage. As she began to slide the cock back and forth, she simultaneously drew down the zip, allowing her large breasts to emerge from their rubber confines. They were slick with sweat and her nipples were erect with passion as she pulled back the latex fabric of her suit to frame her chest. She ran her fingers over her breasts, tracing their form and tweaking her nipples before she brought her hand down to meet the one forcing the dildo into me. Her fingers found the end cap and, with a slight twist, she activated an electronic vibration which sent shivers of pleasure into my body.

I groaned with surprise and laughed with delight as the thick probe began to buzz within me but this only brought another spitting attack from my mistress, the saliva sharply splashing onto my nose and eyes. I blinked, clearing my vision of her fluid, and regarded her hand move once more, this time to take hold my cock.

She began to steadily work my member in her hand as she slid the vibrating dildo back and forth into my arse. Her fingers were wrapped around my length, gripping me in a vise-like embrace as she masturbated me in rhythm with her violation of my backside.

"Do you want to cum?" she asked me in a tone of mockery.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied through gritted teeth, trying to hold back the inevitable explosion by will-power alone.

"Yeah? You want to cum all over these big tits?"
"Yes, Mistress. I want to cum everywhere."

"Yeah, I bet you do. But you've got to beg me. Beg me like a dog."

I moaned but prepared myself. The speed she was working me was a little too slow for the result I wanted, needed, and I was desperate for her to finish me, to give me the release that occupied every fibre of my being.

"Please, mistress, please let me cum."

"That's better." The speed increased. "Louder though. Beg me!"

"Please... PLEASE!"

Her hand built up speed, she thrust the buzzing dildo deep inside me, her fingers pressing it home, and, a few seconds later, with a screaming, salivating shout of ferocity, I felt my spunk rush along the length of my cock and escape to shoot in thick strings over her chest. Once, twice I shot a load of cum onto her gleaming breasts and then she directed my cock away from herself so that I continued to explode all over my own chest. I felt ribbons of sperm shoot over my skin to land on my collar, my face, beyond to the tiles above.

"Open your mouth," she commanded and I did so without question as the waves of bliss racked my soul. I felt gobs of spunk land across my lips and the salty, creamy fluid ran across my tongue. I felt sordid and depraved, an animal of lust and turpitude, a beast fit only for her use.

I was in love.

At last, I finished. The last few drops of my passion fell to my crotch and I stopped yelling my release for the stone walls to hear.

She let go of my cock and slid her half-naked form up my body, the vibrator still embedded within me. Her fingers, running with my spunk slipped into my mouth and she ordered me to suck them dry. I obeyed, no longer inhibited by any restraint or reservation or sense of dignity. I licked my cum from her digits and asked for more.

She withdrew her fingers and slapped my cheek.

"Greedy little slave," she reprimanded.

She got to her feet and I regarded her arse cheeks, revealed by the parted latex, as she retrieved a blindfold from a nearby rack. She bent forward and the last I saw of her for many hours was her perfect cleavage spilling forth from her unzipped catsuit as she fastened the blindfold around my head.

In the blackness I felt her hands take my wrists and she guided me, as I slid on my back, back over to the throne with its, now wet, leather pillow. She clipped my wrists to restraints that were fastened at it base before sliding the vibrating dildo from my behind.

"Now you can rest, covered in your dirty mess," I heard her voice purr from above. "I will return when I need to pee during the night and you will serve your mistress at these times by drinking every drop you are given. Do you understand?"

I confirmed that I did and felt my now flaccid cock beginning to stir with fresh arousal.

I heard the stomp of her heavy boots on the stairs and knew that I was alone in darkness, alone in her dungeon, completely open to further abuse.

I couldn't wait.

submission  

Mar 3, 2018 in bdsm

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