Authors: Lila Dubois
“You’re very aroused, Leona.”
“Please, Master. Please.”
“Please fuck you? Not yet. I wonder if you’re particularly
responsive to anal stimulus, if you’re more masochistic than I suspected and
it’s the pain that’s causing this response, or if it’s the domination—the fact
that I forced you to accept this—that is eliciting such a strong reaction.”
I didn’t have an answer for him. All I knew was that I was
humming with need.
“You’re lovely, Leona. Lovely and far more than I could have
hoped for. I cannot wait any longer to use you.”
Master Clay withdrew his fingers from my ass. I breathed a
sigh of both relief and disappointment.
“Leona, look at me.”
I raised my head, my tired neck muscles straining. He held
up a slim glass plug.
“I’m going to plug your ass. This is a small plug, the same
one you will use on yourself tomorrow. It will not hurt as much as my fingers.”
He poured lube on the tip, then lowered it between my legs.
The glass was cold as it pressed against me. I clenched but the smooth,
slippery glass slid in easily. I felt the widest part enter me, my body closing
around the neck.
Master Clay rose and stripped off his glove, throwing it to
the floor. His blue eyes seemed to burn from within as he circled around to my
head. For the first time I wondered if he wasn’t as controlled as he seemed.
He was carrying a crop and I wondered vaguely where he’d
kept that, but in the next moment I couldn’t think about anything except what
he was about to do. Master Clay unfastened his pants. He didn’t push them off,
didn’t take off his shirt. All he did was pull out his cock, which was long and
thin—the longest cock I’d ever seen.
“Open your mouth.”
I was looking at him upside down, my head perfectly level
with his cock. Surely he didn’t mean that he wanted me to give him a blowjob
like this? I started to say something but he jammed his cock against my lips.
“Open,” he barked.
I opened my mouth, my head falling back. His cock slid past
my lips. There was no time to get used to it, no way to control his pace or
thrust with my hands. Master Clay’s cock slid along my tongue, pushing against
my throat. I started to gag.
Crack.
The crop struck the inside of my thigh. I hadn’t seen it
coming and I jerked in my restraints. He struck me again on my other thigh.
“Swallow,” he demanded. “In this position you should be able
to take my cock into your throat.”
I tried to swallow around the head of his cock but it was
hard. He pulled back and I sucked in a breath just in time for him to thrust in
again. This time he held himself in place. My neck ached and I couldn’t breathe.
Just as I started to panic he pulled back.
Master Clay withdrew his cock, then dropped to a crouch,
meeting my eyes. It was disconcerting to look at him like this from an upside-down
position. “Leona, you’re disappointing me. When your Master gives you an
opportunity to pleasure him your only focus should be on doing so. You’re more
worried about your own discomfort than about pleasing me.”
I looked to the side. “I’m sorry, Master Clay.”
“You have one more opportunity. I am willing to offer you instruction
and correction, but you need to prove to me that when I’m using you you’re
focused on giving me pleasure.”
“I just got scared, Master.”
He rose to his feet. His cock waved above my face. Straining
my tired neck muscles, I caught the tip in my mouth.
“Good,” he said, matching the word by stroking my nipple
with the tip of the crop.
Again he thrust in, the head of his cock sliding down my
throat. I gagged, panicked and struggled to take a deep breath. His balls were
dangling above my forehead and the fabric of his slacks brushed my face. I was
overwhelmed.
“Leona, focus.”
Crack, crack, crack.
The crop struck my inner thighs.
Tears sprang to my eyes. If he would just go slow, give me a chance to get used
to this I’d be okay.
But Master Clay didn’t slow down. He withdrew just enough
for me to draw a deep breath, but then he pushed back in again. This time I
tried to relax and let it happen, but couldn’t stop myself from gagging. His
cock pressed deep, past my gag reflex. I could feel him filling my mouth and
throat. He was so deep that his balls rested on my face.
The tip of the crop stroked my nipples. I forced myself to
stay calm until he pulled out enough for me to take a breath. Sooner than I
liked he was thrusting in once more. This time when I didn’t struggle the tip
of the crop rubbed my clit.
I moaned around his cock. The stimulation muted the
discomfort of being face-fucked.
“That’s right. When you’re obedient you are rewarded with
pleasure. Now ask yourself, are you doing everything you can to pleasure me?”
The next time Master Clay pulled back I circled the head of
his cock with my tongue.
“Very good.” His voice was deeper than it had been before.
There was the jingle of chain and then my right arm was
free. I started to reach for his cock but he stopped me, pushing my hand away.
“Put two fingers on your clit. When I thrust in you may
stimulate yourself. When I pull out you must stop. I want to see your fingers
lifted off your pussy. If you get close to orgasm, remove your hand from your
pussy and pinch your right nipple. Do you understand? Thumbs up for yes.”
I gave him a thumbs-up, then dropped my hand to my pussy. I
was wet and slippery—more so than I ever had been before. My pussy lips felt
fat and swollen, as did my clit.
As he thrust in I stroked myself. I swallowed against his
cock, trying to keep him inside me so I could keep rubbing. Every pass of my
fingers was pure bliss.
He withdrew and I raised my hand. When he didn’t thrust back
in right away I sucked on the head of his cock, trying to draw him back in.
Master Clay started fucking my mouth in earnest then—his
rhythm was faster, the strokes no longer as deep. I took advantage of every
second, toying with myself until I was dancing on the edge. When I knew that
the next bit of stimulation would push me over I reluctantly lifted my hand
away, pinching my nipple with wet fingers.
For a long moment I thought Master Clay hadn’t noticed, but
then the tip of the crop rubbed my clit. My legs strained against the bonds as
I tried to arch into the pleasure. He rocked into me, bracing himself by
grabbing my left breast and squeezing. I realized he was about to come. His
cock twitched and I struggled to swallow. He raised the crop and struck my
clit. Pain exploded followed immediately by pleasure. The cropping had pushed
me over the edge. The orgasm that had been building for what seemed like hours
crashed over me, ripping me apart from the inside out. I started to choke but
Master Clay withdrew from my mouth and then lifted my head, which forced me to
swallow.
I realized these things only vaguely. I was too caught up in
the pleasure. As my body throbbed and clenched I became aware of the egg and
the plug, which now each felt huge. The vibrating of the egg was almost
painful, it caused such acute feelings of pleasure.
I didn’t realize I was still pinching my nipple until Master
Clay pulled my hand away, forcing it back into position and holding it there as
I finished coming.
He reattached the wrist restraint and then tilted the cross
up. I sagged, letting my head fall forward to relieve my tired neck muscles.
The egg was still vibrating away inside me, and I didn’t know if I wanted it to
stop or if I wanted more—more vibrations, something bigger filling me.
I didn’t realize I was crying until Master Clay wiped my
cheeks with his fingers.
“That was lovely, Leona.”
“Thank you, Master Clay.” My voice was raw.
His fingers explored my pussy and sensation shot through me.
“No! No more!”
“No more?” He raised one brow, then very deliberately
stroked my clit.
I moaned, my upper body falling forward.
“That’s not a decision you make when you submit to me. I’m
aware that you’re exceptionally sensitive right now. I’m aware that any touch
to your clit would border on painful, but what did we discuss earlier?”
Each touch made me jump. It felt as if my clit were a raw,
exposed nerve. “That…that you might want to hurt me.”
“Your voice is raw. Would you like a drink of water?”
“Yes, please.”
“There’s a price.”
I whimpered, but I was thrilled by his words.
“Either you wear a clit and nipple clamps for the rest of
the evening or you go into the stocks for a spanking.”
This time both options made me shiver with want. I started
to say that I’d prefer the clamps—the idea of nipple clamps thrilled me—but I
stopped myself. Instead I met his gaze and said, “Whatever would please you
more, Master.”
Master Clay’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Very good, Leona.
Into the stocks with you. But I think some nipple clamps are still called for.”
I could use a safe word or at least say “yellow” and asked
to slow everything down. But I didn’t want to do that. As much as he scared me,
as tired as I now was, Master Clay had also showed me that BDSM was exactly
what I wanted, what I needed. No vanilla sex with a stupid college frat boy
would ever make me feel the way he just did.
I hadn’t seen the stocks when I first walked in because they
were in shadow. When I came out of the bathroom Master Clay went to a panel on
the wall and adjusted the lights. Once he did I could see it—a waist-high
structure made of wood. He lifted off the upper bar and motioned for me to get
in place. I balked.
There were three semicircular indentations—a larger one in
the middle and two others each about a foot and a half away from the center.
“Leona, place your neck in the center cutout and your wrists
in each of the others.”
“Master,” I whispered, letting my feelings show in my voice.
I was reluctant to do what he ordered but reluctant to completely defy him.
“Leona, the spanking I planned is for our mutual enjoyment.
Do not make it turn into true punishment. If I were forced to punish you on
your first time I doubt you would ever come back. Or that you would ever seek
out a master again.”
There was cool warning in his words and I shivered.
I lowered my neck reluctantly into the semicircular opening,
then placed my wrists in the matching spots. The inside of the cutouts were
padded with leather. That plus the collar and wrist cuffs meant that I was
fairly comfortable. At least this time my neck was bending forward instead of
back.
Master Clay fitted the upper piece into place and then
bolted it closed. I heard the clunk of wood pegs. The posture belt I still wore
meant that I had to keep my back flat, which thrust my ass up and out. I was
sure that wasn’t by chance.
The stocks acted as a blinder, preventing me from seeing
anything that was happening to my body, and I was left staring at a cage in the
far corner and trying not to imagine myself locked inside it. The plug was
still firmly embedded within me, but Master Clay had removed the egg before
releasing me from the St. Andrew’s Cross. Now he stroked the curve of my ass,
his hand firm and warm.
When he grabbed the base of the plug I clenched. As scared
as I had been to have the plug inserted I was now reluctant to have it removed.
The constant stimulation it provided help me stay in the right mindset, had
helped me lower my head into the stocks. Without the plug I think my body would
have shut down, rejecting any more stimulation.
“Relax while I pull it out.”
I did my best but Master Clay had to tug it a few times
before it pulled free of my body.
Master Clay reached under me, lifting and squeezing my
breasts. He stroked the tight points of my nipples.
Tired as I was, as secretly reluctant as I was to start up again,
my body had different ideas. With just a small amount of stimulation, the
intense need that had burned within me flared to life once more.
It was not the physical things he would do to me that I
should be afraid of, but his ability to touch this intense, dark part of my
soul.
“These are simple tweezer clamps.” Master Clay dangled them
where I could see. “I can adjust and control the tightness. Since this is your
first time will set them for just enough to stimulate you but not add true pain
that you will need to deal with.”
I felt the cold metal as he laid the clamps, attached by a
chain, on my back. He then tugged and rolled each of my nipples, playing with
them until they felt swollen. Chain clinked as he lifted the clamps off my back
and then there was pressure on each nipple. When he stood I could feel the
gentle weight of the clamps and chain and wished I could see my breasts. I knew
from looking at pictures on Tumblr what tweezer clamps were and could imagine
what my breasts looked like—the long metal sticks dangling from my bright-pink
nipples.
Master Clay’s hand slid over the cheeks of my ass once more.
“Have you ever been spanked?”
“No, Master.”
“But you enjoyed the idea of spanking, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master. But not the little schoolgirl spanking.”
“That’s a shame, because you alone out of every sub I ever
worked with could pull off a little schoolgirl look. But I also understand why
at your age would not want to be perceived as any younger. It is only later in
your life that you want that once more.”
I frowned, not liking the way he was describing me, and
doubting that I would ever want to play the little Catholic schoolgirl. That
just seemed creepy. Before I could get too obsessed with thinking about that
his hands slid from my butt down to the back of my knees and up again. I
stretched into his touch like a cat enjoying being petted. I didn’t mean to, I
just reacted.
“I think a good twenty spanks will be enough. You will still
feel it tomorrow, and it will hurt, but I think you’ll enjoy it too. I know I
will enjoy it and that’s why we’re doing it.”
Without further warning he spanked me. My butt jiggled from
the swat and the sound was far scarier than the actual contact. I liked it. I’d
expected I would—I loved pictures and videos of girls bent over a lap—but I
hadn’t quite imagined how
much
I would enjoy it.
I secretly wished that I were over his knee. Wished I could
squirm against him, could feel if spanking me was making him hard. I didn’t
like the stocks—at least not right now. I wanted to see what was going on. I
wanted to feel him.
Smack.
The second spank landed on my other ass cheek, the sound
just as loud, the sting just as pleasurable. He alternated cheeks, each spank a
little bit louder than the last, and as the spanking progressed I realized each
blow was a little bit harder.
My ass was warm and by the time he reached sixteen I was
jerking and jumping with each blow that fell. He was really spanking me now.
Instead of a little
crack
sound each blow made a solid
thwunk
as
it connected. He held his hand in place rather than pulling it back and that
seemed to burn the sensation into my flesh.
Another spank and I danced in place, bending my knees and
shuffling my feet.
“Ouch. Ouch.” I was unable to keep quiet any longer.
Master Clay rubbed my bottom.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Master. It hurts more than I thought.”
“Submissives are always surprised by the fact that spankings
hurt. I’m not sure why but I found this to be true. I think that’s my favorite
part.”
He rubbed one finger in my pussy. “You are enjoying this,”
he said when he felt how wet I was.
“Yes, Master.” I was once more a messy collection of desire
and dark arousal.
“I’m glad,” he said, “but you are so delectable when being
spanked that I’m afraid I would spank you no matter what.”
The masterful words had me shivering in pleasure. “Yes,
Master, I’m glad I can please you.”
“Oh you do, Leona. You do. I want you to count these last
four and thank me for each one.”
Smack.
I yelped, dancing in place. When the pain abated I did as I was
ordered. “Seventeen. Thank you, Master Clay.”
I counted out the last three, each of which was harder than
the last. By the time I whispered, “Twenty. Thank you, Master Clay,” I was
crying.
I stood there, bent at the waist, unable to move, while
Master Clay walked away. The spanking seemed to have taken the last of my
control, the last of my emotional reserves. When he took off the upper pieces
and helped me to stand, all I could do was stand there and sway. I was caught
between emotional and physical exhaustion, between a bone-deep need to come and
a strange stasis. I was so conflicted that I did nothing. Rather than crumple
to the floor or turn and jump Master Clay, I simply stood there, waiting.
“Straddle the Sybian machine, Leona. You’re going to fuck
yourself on it until you come while you suck my cock.”
I looked at the round black machine he’d placed on the
floor. It looked like half of a small barrel. Resting on the top was a
flesh-colored dildo.
I straddled it and sank down.
“Hold open your pussy lips so I can see.”
My fingers slipped as I tried to pinch my wet, swollen
labia. I finally managed it, opening myself and leaning back so my upper body
wouldn’t block the view. The chain of the nipple clamps tapped against my belly
as I moved.
I positioned myself over the dildo, then looked up. Master
Clay nodded and I sank down. I moaned in pleasure. The feeling of fullness was
almost enough to have me coming.
“No, Leona. You may not come unless you’re sucking my cock.”
I looked at Master Clay and opened my mouth. He took his
semierect cock from his pants and pressed it against my lips. I was tense, not
wanting to go through the deep throat fucking from before. Licking the head of
his cock, I felt it swell in my mouth.
“Do not bite me when I turn the machine on.”
I had a moment to wonder what he was talking about before
the things I was straddling started to vibrate. It was a thousand times more
intense than my own small vibrator. I moaned around Master Clay’s cock as
pleasure spiked through me. I started sucking him in earnest, my head bobbing
up and down on his increasingly erect cock.
“Raise your hands.”
I released my pussy lips and lifted my arms. Master Clay
hooked one finger in the D-rings on the cuffs and stretched my arms up above my
head. “Lean forward, Leona, so that your clit touches the Sybian.”
I looked up at him, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop
myself from coming if I got any more stimulation.
“I said you could come as long as you were sucking my cock.”
The instant I shifted, rocking so that my clit touched the
vibrating black surface, I came. I sucked hard on Master Clay’s cock as
pleasure washed over me. My head was bobbing up and down, his cock now hitting
the back of my throat, but I didn’t care.
The orgasm peaked and started to subside, but the
stimulation didn’t stop. I started to lift myself off but Master Clay put one
foot on my thigh, forcing me back down. I jerked and started to come again. I
ripped my mouth off his cock as my teeth clenched from the intensity of the
pleasure.
“Master,” I begged.
Dropping to one knee, Master Clay forced me down. He bent my
upper body so that my belly practically touched the Sybian. I sobbed as my clit
was bombarded with sensation. He released my arms only to force them together
behind my back. A hand on the small of my back kept me in contact with the
machine.
“You think you can’t come any more, don’t you?”
“I can’t. I can’t. Master, please.” I barely knew what I was
saying. My leg and belly muscles were shaking.
“I think you can. I think that I can make you come again and
again. You would do anything I asked of you right now, wouldn’t you, Leona?”
“Yes, Master, yes. Whatever you want.”
“You’d do it to make this stop, or you’d do it because this
isn’t enough, because you need more?”
It wasn’t until he asked that I realize the truth in his
words. There was something building inside me, something so intense and strange
that I hadn’t realized what it was—another peak, another wave of pleasure that
could and would break over me if given the chance.
I hung my head, unable or unwilling to say the truth.
“Remember that, Leona. Remember that if I wanted to I could
make you do anything I want.” There was something in his voice that I knew
should frighten me, but I couldn’t focus enough to understand what it was.
“Yes, Master, anything.”
“Good.”
The vibration slowed and I breathed a sigh of relief. Master
Clay let me sit up, then slid his hand between me and the machine. He placed a
finger on each side of my clit before turning the machine up once more. His
fingers transferred the vibration from the machine to my hypersensitive body.
Instead of being mashed between my pelvic bone and hard leather, my clit was
now cradled by sensation. I whimpered. My throat was raw, the sound tortured. I
was drowning in the feelings, but there was nowhere to go. There was nothing
more I could give him.
I was wrong.
“I’m not done with you, Leona.”
“M-master, please.”
“Being a submissive is about more than pleasure. It’s about
giving all you are over to a master. It’s about knowing that your master will
take you to the edge of your own understanding and then beyond it.”
Master Clay ripped the clamps off my nipples, fisted his
hand in my hair and jerked my head back. That control, his possession of my
body, was the thing I needed.
Pleasure so intense that my whole body shook washed over me.
Master Clay pulled me up and off the machine before my
orgasm was even done. He laid me on the floor and when I tried to curl into a
ball he forced me flat and spread my legs so he could watch my pussy clenching.
I was twitching and thrashing under him, held down by his grip on my hair, his
leg over mine and his hand on my inner thigh, one thumb pulling open my pussy.
As I came down from the impossible peak he’d forced me to
climb I blinked, staring up at the ceiling. My breathing was labored as if I’d
been running. I lay in the floor with my eyes half closed for a long time. When
I’d calmed down and my pulse rate had slowed my first thought was
what have
I gotten myself into
?